That Time I conquered Equestria... As A Colt

Groggily, Frosty stood up the next morning. Sunday. Another day that he could – theoretically - spend experimenting around with his necromancy. The only Problem was that there were some slight complications that needed to be addressed… complications that he himself had brought about.

The day before, when Zecora had come into town and he had made first contact with her, he had also done something that he came to fully grasp only when he and the rest of the Apple Family returned for dinner that evening.

It wasn’t the character development that he had denied them through all this, mind you, but rather what he had done before he even met Zecora. He had chewed out Applejack. He had put her into place in a way that even her own mother (probably) never had before. Sure, he managed to get his point across that way, but at the same time, he had probably ruined his relation to Applejack, or at least severely damaged it.

Applejack, the Element of Honesty, one of the Elements of Harmony. One of the six mares he needed to know on his side, lest he risk being turned to stone once he started pursuing his goals in earnest.

Luckily, these Ponies were pretty forgiving, as far as social mishaps and the likes go, so he likely just needed to apologize to her. However, that exactly was the problem. The chewing-out he had given her didn’t just come from nowhere and the moment alone didn’t suffice to cause such a reaction. No, the things he said that day came from deeper within his own mind, from his own past experiences with xenophobia…

James was born in a small village in South Africa. His parents were farmworkers, who were severely underpaid for all the work they did and they knew that. However, when you live under such circumstances, no matter how much money the government pours into modernizations and financial aids, it is unlikely that you will ever get out of there. No matter how much financial aid you are supposed to be getting, there is always that one corrupt guy who just marks your batch as delivered and then just takes the money for himself… but that was just how it all worked. Everyone knew and yet no one did anything.

However, that was all meant to change, when one day, his mother came out with a surprise. On his twentieth birthday, his mother revealed that she had been saving money for the past few years, until that day. She wanted only the best for her son, wanted to give him an opportunity to escape this horrid mess that was their home and so, she had saved up enough money to let him study abroad.

Needless to say, James was absolutely ecstatic. That very same day, he sent applications to almost every university he could think of and, a few months later, he actually found that he had been accepted! And so, after a very hearty goodbye at the airport, he went off to study in London, the heart of the empire, where the streets are made of gold – or so they say.

Now, Great Britain is generally not hostile towards strangers, mind you. In fact, it actually is pretty welcoming, or at least indifferent towards them. However, even the most sophisticated system and the most optimally designed society has its black sheep… and James was so unfortunate to end up right in the midst of them. A whole university full of black sheep. The students, the teachers, the other staff members and likely even the principal himself.

He didn’t remember the name of the university. Not that he couldn’t, mind you, but he didn’t want to – too many painful memories connected to the name to be worth the thought.

And not just psychologically painful, but physically as well. Sometimes, he would reach his small apartment only barely alive, covered from top to bottom in bruises, cuts and sometimes even having broken bones. He tried reporting it to the police, but when everyone who could possibly be a witness denies having seen anything then that is also for naught. Even the hundreds upon hundreds of CCTV Cameras that lay on his way home never caught a glimpse of the abuse he had been subjected to.

Naturally, this all had a negative effect, not only on his health, but also on his grades and, to top it all off, there was also another factor that he had to deal with: The climate. Compared to his South African home, moving to London was like moving into a fridge. It was cold. Way colder than he was used to and to make it worse, it would rain almost every day, making him very vulnerable to the plethora of new viruses and bacteria that he wasn’t immune to.

It wasn’t only his grades that suffered greatly under the abuse, however. And while he could pride himself with a will that was – for now – strong enough to resist, his body was not, a whole lifetime in poverty having left him frail and weak to begin with. And so it came that one day, he would come home feeling slightly sick, with a light feeling of pressure in his head, a runny nose and a feeling of drowsiness.

The common cold, for a born European a harmless disease, had easily passed his body’s already weakened defences and would ultimately, only 6 hours after the first symptoms had cropped up, be his demise.

Frosty groaned in discomfort, as he could hear his classmates celebrating his death in his mind, the news of it quickly being spread throughout the whole university like a funny joke. To say that it made him sick would be an understatement.

He couldn’t forgive Applejack just like that. Not after he had actually felt where xenophobia could lead in the end.

‘But at the same time, you have to get clear with her if you want to continue pursuing your goals.’ His own mind reminded him. ‘Also, mom always told you that, no matter how much you hate someone, in the end that hatred will harm you and only you.’

He was so engrossed in his own musings that he almost didn’t notice the knocks on his door and as he went to open it, he found Applebloom standing on the other side.

“Hey, Frosty. Ya din’t come down fer breakfast, so we were wonderin’ where ya’ve been…” She said, as soon as the door cracked open. However, then she noticed the almost pained look on him and began to worry. “Frosty? What’s th’ matter? Is it b’cause of yesterday?”

Frosty nodded absent-mindedly. “Yeah. Sorry, it just… it brought some very bad memories back into mind and… I guess it’s still affecting me a bit.”

Applebloom gave a long, understanding nod. “Oh… do ya… wanna talk ‘bout it?” She asked him, to which, after short contemplation, he answered:

“Yes, might as well…”

He opened the door a bit wider to allow Applebloom access, before closing it again. They both sat down side by side on his bed, before Frosty began to explain vaguely.

“You know… back before I came here, I met quite a few peop— ponies who… weren’t really nice.” He took a short breath and then continued on. “You know… the world out there isn’t as nice as it’s always made to seem. Some are lucky, like you. They have a good family, always have something to eat and they have friends… I, however, had none of that for a long time. There was no one who would protect me when I got hurt and food was only very scarce, even though I lived in a rich city… It wasn’t pretty, but I got by. I could always scavenge for food if I didn’t have any and shelter wasn’t really a problem. What was a problem, however, was this constant xenophobia. I looked different, so I had to be evil – period. It really is amazing what a normally pacifist society can come up with when they’re given the opportunity…”

Frosty hung his head slightly forward, falling into silence.

“Ah dunno what ya’ve seen out there, Frosty…” Applebloom said after a while. “An’ ah dunno what these ponies did t’you that you’re hurtin’ so much… but ah know that Applejack ain’t one o’ them.”

Frosty sighed. “Yeah, I know, Applebloom. It’s just… I didn’t mind her being slightly anxious about Zecora, you know? What really bugged me was that she wanted to keep us from making contact as well.”

“She wanted t’ keep us safe. She was afraid that Zecora would do something t’ us. She has already admitted that it was stupid, but… Ah guess she was just stubborn back then.” Applebloom explained.

“’Back then’? Huh, makes it sound like it’s already been years since it happened.”

“Yeah… maybe ya should treat it that way? Maybe ya should just leave it behind ya?” She offered.

“I’m sorry, Applebloom, but I just can’t get over what happened – yesterday as well as before I came here.”

“But ahm not askin’ ya to ‘get over it’…” Frosty suddenly looked up at Applebloom, who was seemingly staring off into space. “All ah’m asking ya is t’ forgive mah sister. Ya don’t need to forget what she did fer that… just be okay with it, tell yerself that it was a mistake and see that she’s sorry.”

She looked over at Frosty and smiled at him. “We all really like you, Frosty, and we will all forgive all tha things you do wrong… but in turn, we ask you t’ also fergive us.”

A small smile appeared on Frosty’s face and, before she knew it, Applebloom found herself in a hug with him.

“Thanks, Applebloom. I like you too.”

A blush formed on Appleblooms face from the sudden close contact and she barely managed to squeak out a reply. “Y-yeah, yer welcome.”

Frosty let her go and jumped off the bed. “Now, if you would excuse me, I have an apology to make.” Before he then left the room, leaving Applebloom sitting rosy-cheeked on his bed.

“Uh… yeah.”

“So… what have you called us here for?” Scootaloo asked, when she, Sweetie Belle and Applebloom sat in the Clubhouse together that evening.

“Yeah, uhm… y’all remember when Frosty touched us, right? That weird feelin’?” Applebloom started.

“Ugh, yeah, but I thought we’ve already shared everything we knew? Wait… did you find something?” Scootaloo interjected.

“Uhm… maybe. Ah think, this weird feeling might be… love.” Applebloom explained, making the other two fillies in the room go slack-jawed.

“R-Really? You think it might be love?” Sweetie asked. “But… but I thought love only grew over a long time. We only know Frosty for… two weeks I think. Maybe a bit longer?”

“Yeah, what makes you think that?” Scootaloo joined in.

“Well… every time ah think ‘bout him, ah feel so… warm…”

“Yeah, we know that already. Anything more?” Scootaloo interrupted.

“Uh, and… when he touches me, ah feel… funny. Like… ah don’t want him t’ stop and ah wanna hug him… kinda.”

“And that makes you think that you love him?” Scootaloo asked sceptically.

“Well… yeah. Ah mean, imagine him hugging y’all, alright?”

“O… kay...?”

Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle both closed their eyes for a moment, before opening them again at the same time with a slight blush on their faces.

“Okay, I think I see your point.” Scootaloo said.

“But is that actually love?” Sweetie asked. “I mean, can we really be sure?”

“Ah dunno… have ya ever been in love? Ah haven’t…” Applebloom asked and the other two fillies shook their heads in response.

“Maybe we should… you know… just wait for a bit? See how it all turns out?” Sweetie offered, to which Scootaloo and Applebloom just looked at each other and shrugged.

“Yeah… not that there’s anything else we can do…”