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The dust in the air imperceptibly shifted, particles dancing under dull orange lights, swirling and twirling amongst each other in a quiet dance. The muffled thudding of hooves on flooring grew louder with each passing moment, until finally, the small metal door to the far right opened with a sigh. Pale blue light cast a shadow of figure in the doorway, the black silhouette covering a portion of the ruined carpet before it. The figure moved forwards, onto the carpeting, and the door closed with another sigh. The air was still. The dust ceased its dance.

For a few moments, the figure stood there, riveted by a small purple gem on the table. Another moment passed, before his bright teal eyes tore away to scan his journal. The brown coated and brown maned stallion moved to the table, taking calculated, careful steps around the little purple stone. He barely registered the boxes and little knick knacks he knocked around on the carpet, nor did he care for the letter opener falling off of the desk. The horn atop his head glowed in that same teal color as a quill, pulled from a nearby inkwell, glided through the air, down to the faded yellow parchment. Deftly, the quill scratched against the paper, letters and words and sentences and paragraphs taking form. After a minute, the stallion pulled his head back, away from the journal to evaluate his entry.

"I have been a scribe my whole life. Since I was raised in The Ruins of Appleloosa, my father, Burnt Page, kept a quill in my grasp. He told me, 'The Unicorns must dutifully document reality, for we are the ones who keep the knowledge.' I have done this to the best of my ability, and in my short life, I have so far managed to scour roughly five percent of the Royal Canterlot Archives, what is currently considered an immense feat. We have knowledge of what came before the Great Light, and what it truly was, but nothing of it. We know not what happened in that short time, all we have of it are the stories that old soldiers brought to their children. Just before his death, my father would tell these stories too, of our ancestors.

The wisest amongst the Elders have told me to search for knowledge amongst these old transcriptions, ancient viewings of the past. In these transcriptions I have found a gem-stone, capable of relaying sight that dates back nearly two hundred years. The knowledge to yield from the stone is uncertain, but my pursuit for history holds firm. I will survey this data shortly, but from what I already know, the gem has written the events of a stallion called Still Eye, a warrior in the Old Armies.

Perhaps this will give us an understanding of their military, or their response. Maybe even a view of the Great Light when it happened. I cannot be sure, but there is one thing to be sure of;

Ponykind will learn of this gem, and of the information stored within."

Prevalent Dictation set the quill aside, his young, alive eyes studying the stone warily through the golden dust in the air. It was almost too good to be true. Excitement finally emboldened his resolve, he took a breath as he charged the viewing spell. The purple gem violently pulsed a cyan color, before the world around Prevalent faded into white.

This stone has recorded events that should never be repeated. Warn Princess Celestia, before it is too late. Please.

Prevalent Dictation heard the strange, distorted pleading through the recesses of his mind, and slowly, from the endless void of white, land materialized. Slowly, from that land, trees began to sprout up, life that the ponies of the wasteland had never seen. From these trees, leaves of green and fruits of life began to form, and the endless sky became a palette of blue and white, clouds dashing a perfect sky. The sun was held in the sky in a big orange ball, illuminating all in a warm light of life.

Prevalent began to cry at the beauty of the world, the pureness, but could not hear his sobs through the recorded memory playing behind his eyes. An alabaster mare held up the gem before her stunning face, the gem recording through magic stimuli. She brought it before her blue eyes, threatening to spill over like an ocean, accented by a well groomed deep purple mane, three blue diamonds for a cutie mark. She smiled softly to herself, but in the distance somepony called her name, and she dropped the gem. The little gem saw the dirt before it, fading in power. Everything faded back to white for a moment. Prevalent tried calling out to her, but realized it was futile. She was in the past.

There was nothing he could say to stop her from leaving.

He regained his composure as the whiteness faded once more, the gem being retrieved by another unicorn. He could not see the spellcaster, but could feel an immense magical rush in his core. Whomever held this stone was by far the most powerful caster he had ever detected. It was overwhelming. A brief view of the sky disappeared into a brown cloth bag. A feeling of uneasiness arose in the constant shuffling and moving in the bag, and he was suddenly greeted by a purple alicorn standing in a wooden home, regarding the little stone with a small smile, "It's perfect." Prevalent was moving once more, through the air, past a bookshelf with innumerable tomes, into festive looking box. However, he could feel the gem had been activated with a very ample supply of magic, enough to keep it running for at least hundreds of years. Was it a gift?

After some time dormant, the box was opened following the sound of ripping paper. A little tan unicorn colt with vibrant yellow eyes and a dark red mane gazed into the box with wonder, and slowly brought stone before him. His smile extended from ear to ear in glee, and he practically squealed in delight.

"Thank you so much, Auntie Twilight! I've always wanted a Transcription Stone!" He then darted away, playful laughter echoing after a sudden thud. The gem rolled to the side slightly and viewed the gangly colt bouncing atop the dazed alicorn. It clicked then, Prevalent realized this alicorn must have been one of the Princesses of Equestria. He nearly keeled over and died in awe. She laid atop a shaggy blue carpet, beside a lit fireplace. The pale purple walls were lined with paintings of that same alabaster pony and another, brown pony. He couldn't make out any details. The little colt had a peculiar cutie mark; a telescope, with a map behind it.

"No need to thank me, Eye. It's Hearths Warming Eve, enjoy it." She smiled a kind smile.

He took the gem back, and ran up a flight of stairs, pounding against the wooden floorboards in a burst of joy. The awkward colt smiled into it, a faint blue glow radiating off the stone onto his face. His eyes sparkled. "Wow." The young stallion accessed the gem, and for a moment, Prevalent felt his presence beside his own. He knew though, that Still Eye could not detect him. "Wow," he echoed again, amazed at the white void, before leaving. "Eye! Get back down here!" His excited eyes darted back to the door, and he set the gem down on the desk, flying down the stairs.

Memories and brief glimpses of this colt's life flashed and weaved in and out of Prevalent's mind. By the end of Still Eye's teenage years, Prevalent was smiling with pride. He was a good colt. His smile faded. Was. Then, grief struck. Visions of a funeral, his family crying, Twilight Sparkle beside him. The little gem dangled from a necklace around his neck, viewing a long black coffin, slick in design. It took a few moments for Prevalent to register exactly what he was looking at, before his mood soured and his eyes darkened. Atop the casket, there was a picture of a handsome stallion, short brown mane, blue eyes and a light brown coat. His cutie mark was an hourglass, and he appeared to be having the time of his life in the photo.

Droplets fell in front of the gem, and Prevalent could sense they were tears.

He could feel despair and grief flood his mind, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw an older stallion with a white coat and a white blue mane, a navy blue suit adorned with medals of every shape and size and color. The older stallion had a white mustache, and spoke hushed words with Twilight Sparkle. She nodded, and looked down to the colt.

"Still Eye, this is my brother, General Shining Armor. He wants to talk to you," she said in a motherly tone.

The older stallion smiled briefly in thanks to his sister, then knelt down to the colts eye level. He took a breath, and glanced to the side. Making eye contact with the colt, his ice blue eyes flashing dangerously. The medals on his suit shined and reflected in the parlor lights. They were in the same house, it seemed.

"Son, I'm so sorry that this happened to you. It's a loss on all of our parts. We're practically family," he breathed. His eyes scanned the room.

"The world is a dangerous place, and the ponies that killed your father, they were bad ponies. The worst, and they were not from Equestria. They... Equestria will fight another country some time in the next few years. I know your father would have my ass for saying this, but think about joining the Guard. We will need every stallion we can get to fight off the-"

"Shining Armor! What dirty ideas are you filling my boys head with?!" A voice shrieked.

"Miss Rarity, I'm-"

"My husband is DEAD, Shining! And you're here talking my only foal into fighting the same damn war that killed him!"

The room silenced, the colt bowed his head.

"Get out of my boutique, you bastard!"

"Rarity!" Twilight cautioned.

The stallion looked aside with anger in his eyes, and quickly retreated out the door. The Princess rushed after him, the room still silent. The other mourners remained in an awkward silence as Rarity approached the colt. She sniffled, and smiled.

"Don't you mind him, Eye. He's just old." The wrinkles around her eyes contorted in internal pain.

The colt nodded, and thudded his way upstairs. Prevalent found contempt for that General, and could feel a frown build upon his face. What an old bastard. The foal's father just died in war, and the prick still found room for recruitment. The child collapsed upon his bed, the blue walls around him seemed to pour in on him like water.

Through the colts sobbing, Prevalent could hear the door to the room open.

"Still Eye?"

The colt turned to a little filly, yellow coat and an orange mane, and two orbs of bright blue, much like the non-visible sky from the gems first transcriptions, blank cutie mark. Prevalent felt himself lean forward.

"Pumpkin? What are you doing here?"

"My friend is up here crying, why wouldn't I be here?" She said as she trotted up to his bed and sat beside him. Ever so gently, she draped a foreleg around his back and snuggled up beside him.

"P-Pumpkin, why did this have to h-happen?" He cried.

"I don't know, Stills, I don't know," she replied back, her eyes gazing off with an empathetic sadness.

Prevalent could feel himself tearing up, but still saw the memory in crystal clear vision. He contemplated moving forward, past this bad memory, but couldn't will himself to. The colt stopped crying for a moment, and looked up to her, her blue eyes looking down at him in sorrow. However, that emotion was kindled by others, embraced by the fluttering of hearts. The colt ever so slowly moved forward, the filly doing so in return. Their lips parted, and made contact.

Happiness and sadness swirled in Prevalent's chest, he moved forward.

The colt was a stallion. He had grown bigger, stronger. He was gazing into the mirror, examining his own tired eyes. He looked down to the sink and sighed. Toweling off his wet hair in that magical yellow glow, he stepped out of the bathroom, his mother, Rarity, waiting in the hallway.

"You look so handsome, darling."

He smiled a small, bashful smile. He shook his head.

"When will you stop with that praise, mom?"

She smiled back, the wrinkles in her muzzle scrunching up, "Not until you accept it."

He moved forward and nuzzled her, breathing in contently, draping a foreleg around her in the embrace. The gemstone sat in a nest of purple hair for a moment, before Still Eye pulled back. He looked down to the bags on the floor beside the door, the little Guardspony cap atop the largest bag. He shuffled his hooves in the two-shaded carpet beneath, gazing at the curtains and mannequins that filled the room. Eventually, his eyes settled back on his mother, whose expression turned sad.

"You know, they say I'm the best shot they've seen so fa-"

"Please don't go."

Those deep blue eyes could sway anypony to her cause, but Still Eye himself sighed sadly.

"I have to, mom. We both know that..."

"Yeah..."

She abruptly darted forward into a hug, sobbing uncontrollably. She held him tightly, cradling his head.

"Please, Celestia, don't let my boy die... Please..." She sobbed.

Still Eye hugged his mother tighter, whispering, "I won't. I promise." They stood there in the hall for several moments before he broke away. He frowned, gathered his things, tears in his eyes. His hooves dutifully placed themselves in front of each other, leaving the house. His mother watched from the doorway, he didn't see, but Prevalent did. She extended a hoof longingly toward him, but it gingerly set down upon the floor.

Prevalent couldn't take it, he pushed forwards, beyond saying goodbye to Pumpkin Cake, beyond the memories of Training, landing into the war.

"ARTILLERY! TAKE COVER!"

The Battle for Whitetail Woods.

Thousands of Royal Guardsponies charged through the blackened fields and forests below, battling against a wall of changelings, at least one hundred thousand strong. Lights flashed and explosions of every color sprung up on the battlefield. On the mountain beside the valley, Still Eye and the 2nd Regiment of the Equestrian Royal Sniper Corps observed the battle, occasionally firing into the giant heap of bodies and fire. The skies were tainted by black clouds and smoke, the sun gray. Still Eye marched over to Captain Blackshield, being the designated runner for the squad, taking orders.

The Captain was booming over comms-spell to a frontpony.

"Put General Armor on the horn, damn it! We don't know what we're supposed to be shooting at!"

"I can't sir, Armor rode out into battle on a War Carriage, I'm the commanding officer and I-"

The communications spell shut off abruptly, terminated from the other end. The Captain sat dumbly for a moment, Still Eye watching him expectantly, awaiting a command. The Captain formulated a plan, his black mane slick with sweat, crazy eyes twitching. He seemed unfazed by the artillery shells screeching down from the sky, or the dead pegasi dropping from the sky, often followed by dead changelings.

"Recruit, take this message," he handed over a letter in a metal case, "to your squad leader, he'll know what to do. What are you doing looking at me, you shit, RUN!"

"Yes sir!"

Another body landed two feet to the right of the Captain, who looked at the dying changeling, and gave it a friendly pat atop the head with his automated spell rifle.

Still Eye trudged through the mud on the hill, his combat gauntlets caked in the brown sludge. The rifle mounted to his right shoulder shook and rattled against the combat harness as he galloped. In the grass one hundred yards away, a sniper squad fired into the valley. They took positions away from each other to reduce chance of being hit together. Potions exploded in the air above them, draconic mounts firing upon their positions, and the Guardsponies firing back.

A black mount, with a changeling firecaster, slammed into the steep hillside beneath them, shaking the ground.

"Got one! Haha, I got one!" Rough Waters laughed.

"One on the right, adjust angle, twenty degrees, air current negligible. Fire."

Crack! A cloud of red went up into the air.

"Confirmed kill!"

The hill suddenly became a target as rounds slapped the dirt and mud around them. The rookies in the front, Rough Waters among them, began screaming. He rolled about in the mud, blood soaking into the dirt. His front hooves had been taken clean off. Still Eye gazed in horror, then vomited in the grass away from him.

Another barrage of shots ended Rough Waters screaming.

Still Eye spit into the grass, the gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach growing. Looking back, he saw nothing that resembled a pony there.

"S-Sergeant, we lost Rough!" Somepony up front called.

The Sergeant nodded, before firing into the chaos.

"Got the bastard that shot him."

General Shining's War Carriage sped by, bolts and rounds shooting out of the inner cabin.

Still Eye plodded through the mud and knelt beside the Sergeant, keeping his head low. His nervous eyes feasted upon the sight of the battle. He looked over and removed the letter from his saddlebag.

"Sir, for you!"

The Sergeant paled as he received the letter, knowing something the rest of the squad didn't. He read the text promptly, and swallowed. Taking his canteen in a blue magical grip, he drank greedily, water spilling out onto his camouflage face paint. He tucked his head into the space between his forelegs, and shook violently.

Sergeant Lucky Days brought his empty eyes up, and gazed into those of Still Eye for a minute.

"Ponyville is under Gryphon assault... Luna has fallen in it's defense."

The armies stopped in their tracks.

Still Eye froze, his heart dropping. Prevalent tensed up. Still Eye reeled back, and rubbed his muzzle with his shoulder. The world shook and the sun became three times as bright. A scream rolled from the hillside, through the valley. All who heard it stopped fighting, and sank to their knees in agony. As soon as it came, it went. The sun dimmed. The skies clouded. A red light seemed to cast off in every direction.

From beyond the mountains, a light expanded into the air. Waves of fire poured through the valley, wiping away the armies that had been fighting there moments before. In the deep, thundering shriek, it rolled through, consuming all. Prevalent saw the wave coming closer, and could not watch Still Eye succumb to the fire. Before Prevalent could cancel the viewing spell, a sphere of pink surrounded the soldiers on the mountain. A loud humming filled the air, like the calm before the storm. The fire hit the shield, howling across the surface, searing away any evidence around that soldiers had fought there. Rifles and bullets melted down, only metal. Ponies and changelings became dust.

The magical concussion rattled the gemstone, and pulled power away. The vision dimmed as Still Eye blacked out, collapsing on the ground. The gem kept transcribing. The fire swarmed around the shield, Shining Armor standing in the middle, his eyes red and his nose and ears bleeding. His armor was cracked and scorched from battle, and his mane was singed. His legs twitched erratically as he groaned in agony. The shield flickered, but held. The gem stopped working for a few moments, before being reactivated twenty minutes later. Still Eye awoke, and pulled himself up from the muddy ground. His head pounded and the adrenaline in his system vanished, leaving him exhausted.

He laid there, completely exposed, and wondered how he hadn't been killed. He then remembered what had happened.

The wave of fire had passed, and smoke surrounded them. Nopony dared move, lest they broke General Armor's concentration. The red smoke drifted down from the skies and hovered above the ground like a fog, pouring into the valley. Still Eye approached Armor to inform him of Ponyville, a knot in his chest, then noticed that Shining had not moved an inch since erecting the shield.

The glow on his horn faded, the shield fell.

"S-Shining?"

The light in his eyes faded, and his body collapsed in the mud, a spear head lodged in his underbelly, blood pooled around him. He had been dead for a while, his magical reserves kept his spell and his mind active long enough to keep it up.

Upon looking around, he noticed that many other soldiers had died in upright positions. What seemed like a thirty pony unit became little more than a five. The other soldiers abandoned the field as sluggishly, in shock, trying to find shelter in the now magically scorched world. The Sergeant stood, shell shocked, overlooking the red fog in the valley. His hind hooves shook against the ground as he watched the fires burning past. Weapons and shields and swords and blades littered the ground, soldiers navigating in an almost drunken manner, trying to get home.

Still Eye stepped in Rough Water's blood. His eye almost unnoticeably twitched, the entire world seemed to tilt in his mind.

"Sergeant," he began, breathless and shocked, "we need to go back to Ponyville, we need to help. We need to."

"They're all dead..."

Before Still Eye could say anything else, Lucky Days removed his rifle. It fell onto the ground beside him, and he sat on his haunches. He stared into nothingness.

"Go boy, it was my place to die amongst my soldiers. I'm going to do that now."

Still Eye felt numb. Prevalent watched in silence. Eye distantly operated his body, propelling in the general direction of Ponyville, seventy miles away from the battlefield. As he reached a pocket of clean air on the ground, he heard a single rifle shot, then silence, but it did nothing to stop the stallion from his shamble.

The red smoke stung and burned away flesh. The only safe route was through the mountains. Still Eye shuffled, with all of his strength diminishing, from hillside to hillside, trying to reach Ponyville. They were intentionally posted many miles out, trying to reduce the chance of enemy artillery hitting them. They hadn't even erected defenses against an aerial assault. Their efforts in a changeling defense were in vain.

Still Eye's breathing was ragged, the oxygen in the air had been burned away by the blast. Ponyville was only over this hill. With his remaining strength, having walked for hours, he finally heaved himself to the top of the hill.

There was only rubble and bodies and fire.

His legs gave out under him, eyes staring lifelessly into the red smoke in the streets. He didn't register the burnt grass scratching against his underbelly, or the winds of death carrying their promises with clouds of the red smoke. He couldn't cry. He couldn't breathe. His heart slowed, and his mind left him. Slowly, he slumped down, into unconsciousness. Prevalent watched without resting, in complete shock, for the next two hours. Watching the smoke rise, hearing the sound of death in it's silent vigil. The city of Canterlot, never before seen by anypony after the Great Light, had fires raging, but there was still a fight. Arcs of spells dashed into the air, and plumes of fire followed them.

Still Eye awoke, his entire body ached. He was hungry, thirsty, tired and defeated. He didn't even bother lifting his head to fully analyze the situation. He laid out there for a while, just staring out into nothing, much like Prevalent. Dictation was roused by his awakening, and began to panic. He started whispering at first, to himself, "Get up... get up..."

Still Eye remained still, his breathing slow, his eyelids heavy. The fires waged their wars in the buildings beyond. Something moved, something alive, in the shadows of that strange confection-adorned house.

"Get up... please," Dictation rasped. He could hear Still Eye fading away into death.

Still Eye heard someone calling in the distance, far away, crying. He thought he could hear crying. He looked away, hid his face, nopony would have survived that blast in this town.

"Get up," he said, stronger, "Get up! Get up!"

Still Eye looked down to the little gem around his neck, as if he could hear Prevalent Dictation speaking to him. The hopelessness in those yellow eyes searched the gem, implored it to give him strength. The sound of crying and coughing emanated from that building, the windows blasted, scorched, but there was somepony alive.

"GET UP!" He shouted, his voice cracking, tears in his eyes. Prevalent stood up, screaming. His chair crashed to the side, but he didn't notice.

"GET UP!"

Still Eye rose, hooves extending, his gaze scanning the town. The red smoke still filled the streets. The stench of death filled his nostrils. He snorted, and brought his squad cloth around his muzzle, for protection from the fumes. The crying grew louder. He galloped into the fumes, rifle ready, holding his breath.

"YES! Yes!" Prevalent screamed, crying in joy. He collapsed against his chair, but was still completely rapt with attention to the scene unfolding. His heart beat through his chest as he watched the stallion dash through the smoke. The sound of sizzling filled the air as minuscule patches of fur began burning off in the red. Prevalent's eyes widened as he saw flesh become exposed on the upper forelegs, exposed to the air. Still Eye began yelling, picking up volume and speed as he honed in on the front door to the building. Little rivulets of blood ran down from dissolved skin.

He threw himself at it with full force, breaking down the door completely. Shards and splinters of the door flew through the air like shrapnel. He landed smack dab in the middle of the room, the eyes of Rarity, Pound and Pumpkin Cake staring at him in surprise and fear. He groaned, and looked up in a daze. Pumpkin came into focus, looking shellshocked, then Pound, then Rarity. Her mane was frizzled, her eyes were red rimmed and tired. Her coat was dirty with dust. He coughed, and smiled through a grimace.

Prevalent felt his heart swell.

"M-mom..." He pushed himself up and hugged her. She had been crying, tears matted her fur, and she began crying once more. They held each other tightly, Still began crying as well. Prevalent felt tears on his own cheeks. Pumpkin came around and joined the embrace, all of them enjoying this moment of peace in a time of chaos.

"Mom," he pushed himself back, "where are your friends? Where is Princess Twilight?"

She lowered her head, eyes glazing over. "I... Twilight took Rainbow and Fluttershy Southwest with the other survivors, b-before..."

Silence.

"She told me not to follow her, to... to, wait until she found a solution..."

Still Eye nodded, and shut his eyes. He looked around the darkened room, beams of light coming in between boards covering the windows. He walked toward Pumpkin, embracing her. She cried into his shoulder, moaning the name, "Pinkie Pie." He shushed her, and rubbed her withers with his foreleg. He nuzzled her, taking in the scent of her mane, the smell of baked goods. He pulled away after a few moments, Pumpkin sniffling and wiping away tears.

"We have to get out of here," he said quietly, "Is this everypony?"

They nodded, and gazed at him with fearful expressions. He shook his head and furrowed his brow, "Mom, do you still remember that shield spell I taught you?"

Rarity nodded, looking back and forth between Pumpkin and Still, "Darling, I know what you're thinking..." She looked uneasy.

"It's the only way to get through that red fog, I got burned coming in, and I was running full speed. You have to trust me. Please," he begged.

She sighed, "Alright, darling. We'll do it your way."

Slowly navigating through the town in pairs, they successfully managed to reach an enormous orchard. The pockets of red fog were not present here, but a rain set in, and the world was submerged in black. Following Still Eye, the crept up upon the porch of the farmhouse, all together under the porch roof. Still Eye knocked on the door.

There was no answer.

"Maybe they got out?" He said, hoping it was the truth.

Rarity opened the door with her magic, and they all filed in to the living room. The house was dark, silent. Pound Cake immediately went into the kitchen, searching the pantry. Pumpkin closed the door and locked it, looking out the window into the storm. Rarity sat in Granny Smith's old rocking chair, and smiled, "One day, son, I'll need one of these."

Still Eye laughed quietly, "You need one now, grandma."

Rarity shot him a glare, but smiled. After a while, the mood died down, and they lit the fireplace. Pumpkin sat beside Still Eye, Rarity occupied the rocking chair and Pound Cake was still rummaging around in the kitchen, preparing food for the night. They were enjoying the silence, for once, it wasn't awkward. It was earned. It was a special moment, given the circumstances.

Pound Cake came back with the food, and true to cutie mark on his flank, he was a good cook. They scarfed down their apple chips and ate hot oatmeal, leaving them full for the first time in the past two days. True to Pumpkin Cake's cutie mark, she certainly did bring a warm, welcome feeling to the room and it's occupants, leaving them calm and relaxed, telling stories of her experiences at the Sugarcube Corner. What started as a laughing tale became one of mourning, remembrance for Pinkie Pie.

Something shifted.

Pumpkin sniffled, then smiled, "Remember that time you knocked over Rarity's ponnequin with that silver and black gala dress on it? You were so scared." She laughed, joined by Still.

Prevalent snapped back to attention. What was that?

Rarity snapped, "Well it wasn't funny to me. I'll have you know, that dress took WEEKS to perfect!"

They didn't seem to hear it, but outside, Prevalent could see a face in that barn window. It stared with dead eyes at him, watching. Waiting. Prevalent felt his heart rate increase.

"Oh Celestia, the Barn! Check the BARN!" He practically yelled.

A thunderclap vibrated through the house, the windows rattling in their brackets. Pumpkin jumped, and Rarity gasped. A moment passed, and all was silent, tense. The face lit up in the lightning, the barn illuminated for a moment, before darkness again. A crash outside, in the barn.

Still Eye noticed the barn too, but not the creature within.

"Mom, what if somepony's hiding in the barn?"

Rarity was silent, peering at the barn through the window. They all were staring at it, as if they were trying to see through, validate their suspicions. Sadly, they did not possess that ability. Still Eye opened the door, and stood vigilant outside, trying to find clues that somepony might be there. He took aim with his rifle, preparing the magic trigger, just in case.

"Pound, follow me."

"Stop telling me what to do, you're not better than me," Pound mumbled.

Pound's lanky form nervously trailed Still to the barn, nervously hovering behind him with gentle wingbeats.

Closer they got, trudging through the mud. The dead trees in the orchard shook violently in the wind, barren branches moving like monstrous limbs, sharp and evil.

Ten yards away.

Prevalent saw the barn door move slightly in the low light.

Eight yards away.

Prevalents heart began thumping in his chest, mirroring that of Still Eye. Closer, closer.

Six yards away. A foul smell reached Still's nostrils, flaring them.

Still Eye motioned towards the door, mouthing the words to open on his mark.

Four.

Upon the door, weapon drawn, eye down the sights. Pound Cake in position.

Two.

"Breach."

Pound Cake bucked the door with his hind legs, sending both of the wooden doors flying open, slamming against the walls of the scorched barn. Four figures loomed above them, threatening to descend down upon them. Still Eye brought his rifle up. Before firing, lightning. Flash. Fear. Prevalent screamed for a long time, Pound Cake stopped in place, frozen by the sight.

Four ponies were wrung up, nooses tied around their necks, dangling from the ceiling. Their bodies were burnt, but not before the hanging.

One of them, her face was before the window. The creature was her.

Applejack.

Her family.

Still Eye felt bile rise to his throat, while Pound Cake was still rooted to the ground, watching in silent horror. They stood there, unmoving, much like the bodies. Watching. One of them was a foal... a little colt named Adanac Apple. Son to Applejack Apple, nephew to Applebloom Apple and Macintosh Apple. Prevalent sank to the floor.

"W-we..." Still cleared his throat, "We can't tell Rarity of this..."

Pound Cake rounded to him.

"Are you fucking crazy?! Look at that! LOOK AT IT! THE DAMN APPLE FAMILY ARE HANGING FROM THE RAFTERS IN THEIR OWN BARN!"

Still Eye brought his hoof across Pound's face, sending him sprawling to the floor.

"You coward, you think I don't know that? You think I can't see with my own two eyes the ponies I grew up with were lynched? In their own barn? My mother is verging on the brink of insanity! I can see it, she won't take this. She can't. Get up and act like a stallion, not a colt! We're the only ones out here, damn it! There's nopony else! We're all we have, and the sooner we get out of here, the sooner you can play moral superiority," Still growled.

Pound got his bearing back and stood up, "I never liked you to begin with, getting with my sister to make it worse, you want to fight?! Come on, show me what you're made of!" Pound swooped in quickly with a flap of his wings, knocking Still down to the ground. Still rolled to the side, trying to get back up, but Pound was too fast.

Pound attacked relentlessly while Still tried to defend himself, hooves raining down in an uncoordinated flurry, but still effective. Still charged his horn, and used a telekinetic blast to keep him at bay, sending him flying through the barn doors.

Still got his bearings and activated his harness again, the rifle clicking into position, just as Pound opened the doors.

He froze.

"Go ahead, shoot. I dare you. Explain to my sister how you gunned her brother down in cold blood for a lie. For a lie!"

Suddenly, a scream tore through the storm, the two soaked stallions looking at each other in horror. They both quickly galloped out of the barn, Still taking the lead. Still rounded up to the house and slammed through the door with his left shoulder, wood scraps flying everywhere. A changeling stood in the center of the room, dashing over to Pound Cake and kicking him over. The rifle clicked, and with the magic sensitive trigger, two rounds slammed into the black creature, green blood spattering against the wall. It stumbled backwards.

He stood for another moment, before Still reared around and bucked it in the face, breaking its neck instantly.

Everything slowed to a crawl. The drops falling from his mane, the shell casings bouncing around on the wooden floor. Blood. Blood. His mother, impaled with a changeling scabbard. The blade still rested in her chest, her blue eyes fading, looking down at it in horror, pain and confusion.

"MOM!"

He fell forwards, before her, cradling her form on the wooden floor. His eyes, wide in panic. He looked down to the wound. Prevalent threw his body down to the floor, hitting the carpet he could not see, screaming for the death of a mother that wasn't his. He felt the pain, knew the sorrow that he had never known, nor, would ever have known without this gem. He cried and he cried as Still cried and cried holding her body.

"P-plea-ase, b-b-be a dear and-d k-k-keep that promi-se, w-will you?" She asked him with a grim smile, tears in her eyes, shivering.

He leaned down, resting his forehead against hers, touching their horns together. With his magic, he cast a delusion spell into her mind, causing her to see all of her friends and family, in her most cherished memories. She smiled softly, the pain fading, as she slipped away on the floor. As she finally went out, he screamed at the top of his lungs, holding her close. He thrashed about, moving away, destroying the furniture and items on the shelves, throwing glasses, breaking everything in his path.

He charged through the hallway and bucked down the master bedroom door, marching in, kicking out all of the windows. The gun fell from the harness, clattering on the floor.

"NO, PLEASE NO! WHY?! WHY?!" He screamed.

He slumped down to the floor, tears streaming down his face.

"WHY?! W-why? W-why?" He trailed off into sobbing.

Prevalent wailed on the floor, his voice broken from screaming. The two stallions, who had never met, shared the same sorrow, saw the same things. Lived the same lives. Prevalent, the scribe, Still, the warrior. The pain was unbearable. Prevalent felt his own emotions, and those of Still. Bound, by this gemstone.

Time became impossible to document.

All there was in the world was sadness, death.

Both the gemstone, the wearer and the viewer all gave out in exhaustion.

All went black.

Prevalent awoke, but not in his own bed, or his own town, for that matter. He awoke as the eye of the gemstone, the spell had not been reversed. Still Eye wore the gem around his neck still, his dead eyes searching the air before him for answers. Nothing. Prevalent watched the pony not with a hollow mind, but with a full heart, no longer motivated by knowledge but by this bond that one of them didn't know existed. Still Eye heard hoofsteps and whispering.

"I'm not letting you stay here with that creep!" Still pushed himself up to stand, sluggishly moving back to the living room. His eyes caught sight of the two twins arguing.

"Just because you don't like him doesn't me-"

"Doesn't mean what?" He asked in a monotone.

"Doesn't mean your trustworthy, Still." Pound finished.

Still Eye glanced down to the bags of supplies beside his hooves.

"So you're going to leave? Where? Tell me a place you think is unscathed."

Pound suddenly shifted from passive aggressive to aggressive.

"Do you think you're going to follow us there? Be a hero, like you played when you were a kid? Huh?"

Adrenaline rushed into his system, Still moved in closer, their muzzles touching as the fires of Tartarus burned behind his eyes. His voice lowered, and eyes darkened, his body language became dangerous.

"You want to say something, say it. Say. It."

"Well, given how everypony around you dies, your Dad, now your Mom, I find it hard to-"

Still Eye rammed the thin pegasus up against the wall, smashing through the cabinet, pinning him with his thick forelegs. Then, haymakers, right, left, right, left. The pegasus slumped down, trying to raise his forelegs to defend. No avail. Right, left, right, left.

Still Eye kept landing hits until blood began to spill, where Pumpkin Cake pushed him away. She knelt down to tend to her brother's wounds, while Still Eye retrieved the rifle from the bedroom floor, returning and aiming the gun at Pound Cake. Pound Cake glared back, before snarling, "DO IT! DOOOOO IT! JUST FUCKING SHOOT ME ALREADY! WE'RE ALL DEAD ALREADY!"

"Pound Cake!"

Still Eye lowered the gun, his brow furrowing.

"SHOOT ME!"

Still swallowed, looking at Pumpkin.

"You're not worth the ammo."

Still Eye walked out of the front door and sat on the steps to the porch, looking out to the grey, burnt wasteland. Everything smelled of ozone and smoke, a strange blend between life and death. He remained out there and stared up at the sandy, orange sky, waiting for many moments. No birds, no crickets, no noise. Just wind.

Pumpkin Cake came out, aggravated, "What in Tartarus is wrong with you?! You nearly killed him! He's a bit of a dick sometimes but that's no excuse to beat him out in the dining room! Is it because we're not a thing anymore? Huh?! What's you problem?!" She pushed his withers, but he remained in the same spot.

"Appleloosa."

...

"What? Did you hear a word I said?"

"Appleloosa, that's the only place I reckon hasn't been destroyed. The blast was huge, but given the damage done to Ponyville, it looks like this was the edge of it. We can continue on the ground moving that way. It will take weeks. Months even, but that is the closest thing to sanctuary at the moment."

Pumpkin Cake scoffed.

"I don't care if you like me anymore, Pum. I love you, I always have, always will. I will always do what's best for you and your family. You know that your brother deserved it, and do you want to know why we were fighting? The entire Apple clan in Ponyville were hung by that Changeling, they're dangling by ropes in that barn. I couldn't tell Mom, she'd..." He trailed off, shaking his head.

"The fucking world is ending, Pum. I'm going to cut them down, and bury them and my mom, properly. It's what they deserve. You can leave if you want after you've said something for them. It's the decent thing to do."

Still stood, and went off to the barn, a shocked Pumpkin Cake watching him go.

Still Eye stood over the five fresh graves, the burnt soil was hard to dig through, and took most of the afternoon, but it was done. His brown mane, slicked down with sweat, rain and dried blood in some placed. His coat was filthy, but so were Pound and Pumpkin. He put his head against the mound of dirt that held Applejack.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here, I wish we could have spent more time together," He whispered.

Pumpkin said some brief things about the Apples, from what brief interactions they had, she considered them friends.

"But, Rarity... Rarity w-was more than a friend," Pumpkin choked up, "She was like a mother to me, t-to my brother... Please, Celestia, have mercy on her..."

Before Still Eyes could move forward to soothe her, she practically leapt onto him, crying into his shoulder.

"I don't want to leave you alone, Stills, I can't..."

"I don't think I can either," he murmured, nuzzling her. He took in that scent, that sweet smell, her orange mane in his face. He closed his eyes in their embrace. He hugged tighter, "not while my heart still beats." Prevalent watched with a bittersweet happiness.

The gemstone slowly fizzled out, the end of the transcription was damaged before arrival.

Prevalent Dictation jolted on his floor, no longer absorbed by the vision. He looked around, examining every last detail in his room. Every little note, little drawing, little crevasse, crack, creak, nook, cranny. The lighting, the light bulb. He sat there, alone, taken in his thoughts. He stood, and undid the buckle that held his Scribes cloak to him. He trudged through the hallways, into the archives. He heard the gasps of fellow scribes, disbelieving of the fact that one of them was prowling around without a cloak.

A disgrace.

Prevalent retrieved a map of Equestria, with the location of Appleloosa highlighted in a big red circle. He found the legend, and the location of Ponyville. It was in the forbidden lands, ridden with the threat of Changelings and Dragons, amongst other creatures. He moved his compass to the Southwest, where it was labeled, 'Tree of Harmony/Everfree Forest'. Three hundred miles out.

Prevalent opened his saddle bags and stuffed the map in, tucking it beside bottles of water and packets of food.

Guards came into the room, armed with batons as the Eldest Scribe, Balanced Bookcase, came down himself.

"Son, what is the meaning of this? My old heart, it isn't as strong as it used to be, don't scare me with such things."

"Elder Bookcase, the gemstone, it gave to me a transcription, one that detailed our ancestors, one that revealed to me the Great Light, the horrors that preceded it! It's all here," he levitated a stack of papers over, written hastily.

"I know where Princess Twilight is!"

The hall went silent.

The Tree of Harmony went dimmer and dimmer over the years, time eroding away the peace and order in the world. Princess Twilight had realized that these ponies would not last to see salvation, and put herself, and all of them, into a powerful stasis spell, that would only be undone once they had been found, or until Twilight's magical reserve depleted.

In the dim cave, the tree dimmed more and more, until it exploded with light. The cavern looked like a day outside, little crystalline materials in the walls glinting and glowing with it. The tree swelled, stronger and stronger, power and life flowing back into the world outside.

Eyelids pulled back, revealing two orbs of beautiful purple.

Author's Note

I'm an asshole for writing this.

Who new?

Anyways, I hope you've enjoyed this. I originally wanted to make it more spaced out, length wise, but I dunno. I was possessed to write this entire thing in three days. That weird writers inspiration, you know. Anyways, this is the product, I hope you like it, and I hope the judges like it. :) As Truman said,

See ya.

P.S: First time writing a story about de pones, so I know it'll be a little rough.

-Clock