The house was cluttered and abandoned. Framed pictures of long-forgotten memories were broken and dusty. The furniture was smashed, torn, and burned. The wallpaper was nearly ripped to shreds, and there were a few burned holes from previous battles. They damaged something that would be considered beautiful in the past.
The structure was on the verge of collapsing, which wouldn’t be surprising due to the fact that the area was constantly used as a battlefield. It was the only house left standing in the barren terrain. The others were either damaged from the attacks of the Imperials, or they were forced to collapse by the efforts of the Aeros as an attempt to ambush the creatures inside. Most of the time, unfortunately, they succeeded in that attempt.
Amidst the terrain was a pony. Her coat had numerous scars, one of her ears was notched, and her horn was slightly cracked. It was a dreadful battle that day. A day that she would do anything to forget.
The pony looked at her surroundings and couldn’t help but feel that familiar tinge of sadness she had always felt whenever visiting these old, ruined grounds. History was crumbling within the buildings. Buildings that harbored memories, life, and… friendship. It would be a long time before the previous two would inhabit this wasteland of a world.
The pony then found the only house left remaining in this deserted land. She couldn’t help but feel surprised that it had survived this long when other, important sites didn’t. The Aeros probably didn’t use its walls to their advantage yet.
The pony entered the house. She couldn’t help but feel disheartened by what they saw. The pony had to watch where she was stepping in this abandoned waste of a home. There were glass shards that spread throughout its wooden floor; it seemed that no one even bothered to pick them up, but why should they?
“So many memories,” the pony mumbled to herself.
The pony teleported to a part of the house that didn’t have glass on the floor. The pony noticed that several pictures were left to rot on the floor. The pony used her telekinesis to levitate the picture, and rubbed the debris off of it. It was a picture of two ponies. One of royalty and one that was a regular pony, but important nonetheless.
Her ears flattened as they thought of this pony in the picture. It had been years since she last saw her. She had no idea where her whereabouts were, but, then again, no one did. Not that she wanted anyone to find her anyways. Who knows what would’ve happened if the Imperials had caught her?
I’ll stop this massacre from happening, and I will make sure of it.
Those were her last words before she had disappeared that one night, and hadn’t been heard from since.
Oh, Celestia, I hope she’s okay,she prayed.
Reverting back to the present, the pony softly put the framed picture away and teleported to the house’s door. She didn’t need to see anymore of this. The past made her heart ache with hurt, and this house was a clear reminder of what used to be.
Before she completely left the house, she noticed a box that was tucked in an open cupboard underneath the kitchen sink. She hesitated to peek into its contents, fearing that it would be another simple reminder of the old days. Unfortunately, her curiosity took over her fear.
With a sigh, the pony teleported the box in front of her. The box was taped shut, and, surprisingly, it was the only thing in the house that didn’t seem damaged. It was dusty, yes, but it wasn’t worn down and the elements didn’t seem to affect it either.
However, there was writing on the side of the box. She turned it, and saw what it said in big, giant black font:
PROPERTY OF
S L
When she concentrated hard enough, could only make out two letters. The rest, however, were impossible to make out. It seemed like whoever wrote wanted their name to be scribbled out, but missed those two letters. She felt a tinge of hope that maybe, just maybe, that this box felt important somehow.
She opened the box with her magic. When she did so, she saw a few sheets of paper, and a pencil. Along these contents was a note. It read:
“Send this to…”
The rest was erased.
The pony let out a frustrated sigh. She felt naive since she once thought that whatever was inside the box would save her from this nightmare that’s called Eques—, well, Malum, now.
“It’s just a piece of paper!” the pony shouted angrily as she threw the box to the ground out of frustration.
The pony turned around and walked away from the box, and the house in general. She was seething with frustration. She felt so stupid for having this feeling of hope, this feeling that maybe, just maybe, that there would be a way to stop the wars, the bloodshed; anything that the incident had caused. How would a stupid piece of paper ever do that?
As she walked, tears began to well up in their eyes as she, once again, recalled the old days. She missed everything, and all of the things that mattered the most to her were gone for good: her friends, her family, the Royal Sisters, Equestria.
“If only I was strong enough to travel through time and stop this incident from ever happening!” she vented her frustrations to the ground as they walked.
Then she stopped dead in her tracks after hearing their own words.
After thinking through what she had just shouted out of her mouth, she turned around and saw that the papers were beginning to fly away from the wind.
“No!” she worriedly exclaimed as she raced to the box and grabbed the paper within the reach of her magic. The paper was, somehow, not dirty, to which she was thankful for.
As she stared at the blank paper, she could vaguely remember the teachings and the spells of a certain unicorn that had lived before the fall of Equestria and the rise of Malum. She had his ancient books, hidden from the watchful eyes of the Imperials, who would burn those books to a crisp if they were ever found.
Why didn’t I think of this before? she thought to herself, but deep down, she felt like this was a fruitless task; she doubted that help would come, and that she shouldn’t be so hopeful over something that had the chance of not working.
However, it seemed like she would never give up that tinge of hope in a hopeless world. Whether it was stupid or not.
She grabbed the pencil, and with both the materials in their grasp, she began to flap her scarred wings and began to fly away to the north direction.
She prayed with all of their heart that this would work, and that with this act, Malum would crumble for good, and plant the seed that Equestria, its rightful name, had nurtured during its grand lifetime.
Author's Note
Special thanks to Bean’s Writing Group Discord server’s suggestions for Equestria’s new name after its downfall.
(Specifically Visharo. Thanks for the suggestion!)
