Blazing sun, a meandering river, a greener pasture. There sat reading under the lone cherry blossom tree, on the hill overlooking a rich valley, he rested. The gentle sunshine caressed his youthful features and warmed his very soul. There was no place more peaceful than there. His own little quiet place under a tree looking over a secluded valley in the middle of who knows where, reading a book. His mind's very definition of peace; you see, he had been here before. A lot, in fact, it was his dreamscape, though he didn't know that.

A solid 22 Celsius, the weather was just right. The shade given by the centuries old cherry blossom tree he lay under shielded his eyes from the harsher of the sun's rays, whilst also allowing the perfect amount of light needed to enjoy his book. The river that was overlooked by the perch he sat on wandered at a leisurely pace, the sound of moving water giving the perfect ambience. In the distance, he could see the castle, mighty and ancient yet still aesthetic and nothing short of beautiful. It looked over the sun-dappled countryside as if it was protecting all that grow there.

The sun sat high in the sky, overseeing all that was below it, giving the land its nourishing light. It was because of the sun that any on this was alive, and not just a desolate rock. The boy couldn't help but feel thankful towards the celestial body, for without its benevolence, all that stood before him would be dust. It was reassuring to the child knowing that his special hideaway was guarded by such a powerful object.

The day time full moon sat directly above the castle, looking as if it were perched on the tip of the main spire, exuding a calming white-ish aura on the afternoon canvas. Luna was watching over the ground below, helping her sister, the sun to craft the most bewitching scene one could imagine

The entire place had an air of grace about it. It felt, like an honour to be sat there. Nothing could even come close to being this pristine, not in a thousand lifetimes. Time seemed to slow in that place, it gave one a sense of overwhelming clarity, a knowledge that somehow, some way, everything was going to be okay.

A slight gust of wind tickled the boys nose as he looked away from the majestic view that was set before him. A single lone butterfly ambled through the air, daintily making its way towards him. He held out his finger to provide the butterfly purchase. It gracefully landed on the tip of his finger and looked at him with an innocent stare of curiosity. It was like a scene from a storybook.

The scent of grass and flowers and warmth was made more complex by an unknown aroma. It was deep, rich and sort of broad in a way. It was very familiar to the boy, though he couldn't place its origin. He decided to wave it off and just enjoy his time there, familiar smell and all.

The scent grew in strength, quickly becoming quite overwhelming. Exploring the sensation it gave further revealed something quite alarming: It smelled bad. Nothing was meant to be bad here, it was his peace, his perfection.

It was then when the force of the odour hit the boy in its full force. It stung his nose and throat, it burned his lungs and it irritated his eyes, the mellow earthy scent quickly morphing into something ugly and quite definitely not perfect. The sound of the easy flowing water had been twisted and warped into a hushed roar with the occasional cracking or popping sound.

As the boy started to hack and cough thanks to the smell, only two words came into his head: smoke and fire.

Just as quickly the boy had realised this, his quiet place, his peaceful escape, his embodiment of the most perfect relaxation turned dark and grey. The image of a valley populated with flowers, the great castle off in the distance and even the river all lost any semblance of vibrancy. The very walls of his dreamworld were coming apart, dissolving before his very eyes. The land was disintegrating, falling apart, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Crack

The boy shot his eyes open, though this was quickly stopped by the tears and hacking that had taken hold. The room was hot. Very hot. A menacing orange glow shone under his door, tempting him, daring him to open it and face what was lurking behind. The air was thick with smoke, he couldn't even see to the other side of his fairly small room. He tried to open the window to clear some smoke, panic gripping his very soul in a vice grip, to no avail. They were stuck.

The door finally gave way, a vicious red hellfire greeted him, spreading across the walls and engulfing the carpet. All he could do was back into a corner and stare his inevitable death in the face. He couldn't make it through the fire, not in bare feet and pyjamas. In that moment, he felt something he had not felt in a very very long time: complete and utter helplessness, something he wished he would never have to experience again.

The bed erupted in a torrent of flame, the highly flammable sheets becoming prey to the encroaching demon that had cursed the house. He couldn't even breathe now, if the fire didn't get him first, surely he would choke on the smog of poisonous gasses released by the firestorm. The boy curled up into the fetal position, tears of both choking and dread streamed down his face. His secret place couldn't help him now.

He was finished.

The flames licked at his entire being, burning, searing and melting entire areas of his body. A high pitched scream, a shriek of pain and a final cry for the sweet embrace of the reaper, was washed out by the hellish symphony of a raging inferno.

The local papers ran a special extra that contained the obituaries of all who were affected. The headline read:

FOUR FOUND DEAD IN BRITISH HOME BLAZE

Author's Note

I know its not ponies just yet, but please bear with me, it's coming :)