Until the world comes crashing down
Small, black boots stepped silently across a floor of blinding white. The bottom of a white hakama-like garb covering the upright creature swayed with each step. It’s two hands, dark-skinned and hairless, were clasped together in a praying fashion as it slowly walked toward a large, circular wishing well.
The unfamiliar being placed its hands on either side of the well and bent forwards into it, staring down with golden eyes at the blackness of the abyss within.
And the abyss looked away.
~~~~~~~
The land of Equestria... It was such a bright and beautiful place, once… the laughter of friends and the sounds of nature filled the air. The world was so alive, so vibrant... so powerful… I found it Intoxicating.
But such peace was never destined to last.
We have seen it, we were the instigators in fact. I sometimes wonder what could have been different, what I might have been able to do, if not marred by such ignorance as I was...
And now here I stare.
Locked Motions chapter 1:
Until the world comes crashing down
The soft light of morning was guided over the sands as it had been many other times. It was a natural thing, easy to understand and easy to forget. The hot expanse of the Appleloosian Desert shone in the sunlight, rusty pieces of iron machinery and supports barely reflected its rays. A window’s glass lit up and focused the heavenly body’s light on a bedroom.
Applejack squinted and slowly opened her eyes, lifting an orange hoof out of the covers to shield her retinas from the glare. She sat up and got off the bed, taking off her apple-themed sleeping cap and doing some stretches to prepare herself for the day. She shook her hair free to get it in front of her and tied one of her red bangles back into it. She then did the same with her tail and, content with her appearance, trotted out of the bedroom and into the upstairs corridor.
Her cousin’s house was as western as they come on the inside. Deep brown wooden planks caked the walls and floor, with the exposed rafters visible above her. The wood was all relatively new, which was no surprise considering the town it had been put to use in was barely two and a bit years in age. Shiny new furniture and decorations populated each room, coupled with a few keepsakes from their owner’s time back in Ponyville.
Applejack, however, paid no attention to any of that. Instead, she briskly cantered her way through the corridor and into her cousin’s room. There, slouched in an awkward pose and fast asleep, was Braeburn. Aww, still got this hat with him, Applejack thought with a warm smile, like one a mother would give a sleeping foal. But as she stared at the cowpony hat the smile slowly faded… she shook herself and brightened up, this was going to be a good day, and nothing would stop that.
Taking a look at the clock - five-thirty, bright and early - she took a deep breath and bellowed, “UP AND AT ‘EM SLEEPYHEAD!” The bed shook as its occupant practically flew to the ceiling, a panicked cry flying out of him before he landed on the hard floor with a thud. Applejack’s eyes went wide and she rushed over to him. “Braeburn, are ya alright?” she asked, brushing off the sheets that he had taken with him from the bed.
“Never… better…” he replied painfully, tipping back onto his haunches and rubbing his bruised head.
“I’m sorry, Ah didn’t mean to get you hurt an’ all.”
“It’s ok cus’, Ah’m fine.” Braeburn got up off the floor and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “… what time is it?” He squinted at the clock.
“It’s five-thirty,” Applejack answered for him, though this only served to confirm the other farmer’s horror.
“Five-thirty?!” he exclaimed. He glanced between his cousin and his bed, quickly choosing the latter and getting back up into the warmth and comfort.
Applejack’s expression went pointy and she rose up over the bed. “Braeburn, wake up,” she said, suddenly diving and ripping the sheets off him. He grumbled, annoyed, but complied and got back down, Applejack placed the sheets back where they belonged. “Just cos’ you don’t have to farm no more doesn’t mean you should get lazy,” she said matter-of-factly, “now come on, you were gonna show me somethin’ today, remember?”
“Erm… o-oh yeah! That thing.” A smile appeared on his face as he remembered their schedule for the day. Picking his cowcolt hat up off the floor, he tucked some of his stray bangs underneath and placed it on his head. He glanced down at his front, only to realize he had been sleeping with his jacket on. “Oh, Ah… Ah guess Ah’m ready ta go,” he said. Applejack face-hoofed.
It was a sunny day in Appleloosa, peaceful, as one would come to expect from the southern town. The inhabitants were quietly preparing themselves, fetching their best hats and feathers and generally getting ready for the excitement that was to start later that day.
“So what is this game about?” asked Applejack as the pair slowly cantered through town, passing ponies with fancy hats and fancier feather-crowned buffalo alike.
“It’s somethin’ Ah thought up to bring us and the Buffalo together a bit more. We’re already sharin’ some of our culture,” Braeburn answered as he gestured to a large store - built to accommodate its occupants - that had a plume of coloured feathers displayed in an arc above the name ‘Forehead of Fire’, “as well as space. We had a whole family of Buffalo move in jus’ last month, so we gotta step up our game to keep this sort of trend goin’.”
“Well that’s great news! So our societies are startin’ to merge into one!”
“I-it doesn’t work like that, Applejack,” Braeburn said, looking askew at her in slight bewilderment. The other farmer looked back at him, silently asking him to elaborate, “It’s completely the Buffalo’s choice whether or not they wanna move to Appleloosa. We don’t ask them to, and we don’t advertise.”
Applejack thought for a moment. “Must be the apple pie,” she concluded with a smile. Her cousin couldn’t hold back a chortle. “Say, speakin’ of… how’s Little Strongheart doin’?” she asked.
Braeburn brightened up. “As a matter-a-fact, she’s the one organisin’ the whole thing! Well, alongside me o’ course.”
“Really?” Applejack beamed and sped up. “Then we’d best get a move on! Ah haven’t seen her in twelve months an’ a half, an’ I’d hate ta’ disappoint her by not at least droppin’ a ‘hi’!”
The two galloped their way through town, Braeburn taking the lead and directing his cousin. Little did they know another pair was watching them with smug grins on their faces from where they sat on their odd, vehicular contraption. One of them looked sideways at his brother, expecting a witty comment from the other unicorn.
“Well Flim…” said Flam as he stroked his bacon coloured moustache, “it seems that our political rival has upped the ante.”
Flim slipped down off the odd machine and hopped into the driver’s seat, which was actually a sofa that had been tied onto the front. “What’s the plan, Flam?” he asked, lounging back.
Flam did the same, coming to a rest next to his brother. He raised a hoof to make a point. “I suggest we take a look-see at this… ‘Buffalo Ball’ of theirs, and maybe… add our own flavour to mix!”
Both of their horns suddenly glowed apple green, a bolt of magic shooting from each into the Tesla coil-like protrusions jutting out from the top of the vehicle. The machine burst to life, its insides churning in chaotic harmony. The unicorns both grinned devilishly as the evil machination started to move…
The crunch of sand under hoof came to a stop as Braeburn led his cousin up a short flight of steps. Applejack gazed in awe as the middle of the stadium-like structure came into view; it was relatively small compared to the one used during the rodeo competition, but it was still a surprise to see simply due to how quickly it had been built. Everything but the supports and the two large, shining, tuba-like horns mounted on either side looked to be made of wood; seating painted a slightly weathered victory-red lined the inner circumference of the stadium, going right down into the natural bowl that the bulk of the structure had been built inside.
All around the edges, both inside and out, ran ribbons, posters, and various other little details that really made the place feel alive, despite the fact that nopony or buffalo was actually there yet. Soon, however, the noises that filled Appleloosa would move into the stadium, and the games would begin.
“Whoa nelly… when’d you get this up?” Applejack asked, gawking at the sight.
“Why jus’ last month! Would ya like me ta show ya around?” Braeburn asked excitedly.
“Oh, would Ah!” Applejack answered with a grin before taking a step down off the outer platform and onto the steps leading downwards. She stopped and glanced back. “Hold up,” she said, narrowing her eyes at Braeburn’s innocent face, “what about Little Strongheart?”
“Oh… she’s here somewhere,” he answered in what he thought had been a sly tone, “but you won’t meet ‘er till the end!” Applejack huffed and looked the other way. Braeburn trotted to her side down the steps, looking anxious over her reaction. “L-look, it’s just a little… surprise.” Applejack shot him a glare. “N-not a bad surprise! We wanted to make you feel important, cos… this is your first day back… since…”
Braeburn trailed off and went silent, the expression of pure anger on his cousin’s face trampled his argument into the dirt and then buried it under a mountain. She held it for a few moments before turning away, unable to hold onto the feeling as it was quickly replaced with a deep, cutting sadness.
Her cousin looked on with his ears pinned back, expecting a harsh response until he noticed the expression on the stricken mare. He hesitated for a moment before moving towards her and embracing his cousin in a heartfelt hug.
A few silent minutes passed before the two were interrupted by the slowly growing sounds coming from outside of the stadium. Ponies and buffalo alike were starting to filter in from all corners, ready for the day’s events. Applejack brushed her cousin off. “I’m sorry about that.”
“No, don’t wo-”
“No really, I’m sorry,” she continued, looking away from him. “Ah shouldn’t have acted like that over a simple misunderstandin’. You don’t deserve that kinda treatment.”
She looked back at him as Braeburn placed a hoof on her shoulder, a warm smile on his face. “Look, cus, we both got problems of our own. Me with losin’ most of Sweet Apple Ranch, an’ you with…” He watched for a change in her face, silently asking if he could continue.
Though calmer than before, the look he received was still that of a mare in pain, Applejack raised her own hoof to her shoulder and placed it on Braeburn’s, moving it away. “Look, Ah can’t talk about this right now.”
He sighed and buried the train of thought. “You’re our special guest, an’ Ah want you ta feel happy here, but Ah can’t help you do that if you’re dwellin’ on the past...” he lamented. “Come on... Ah’ll take ya to Little Strongheart.”
Meanwhile, down in the dugouts at the northern edge of the stadium, a rather tiny buffalo was prepping her team for the challenge ahead. A brightly coloured cloak wrapped around from her front, over her deep orange back and round again, tying into a knot just above her chest. Two other edges separate from what held it together descended her front legs to become sleeves, ending in wide cuffs that danced just above the floor.
A yet more colourful feather crown that bounced with each step adorned her forehead. She paraded with feeling in front of a line of giant buffalo warriors, mouthing off a bunch of commands. Her team was dressed in the same colours as her, comically small shirts covered their foresty chests and small, stumpy legs. The ensembles for each of them were coloured a vibrant red around the neck while the rest was a pasty tan shade. Little Strongheart’s crown however, was a rainbow of different colours, indicating her as the leader.
The larger buffalo snapped to attention as she reached the end of the line and performed a 180-degree turn. She raised a hoof and said, “Now, are we clear on the rules?”
“Yes, Coach!” they answered in perfect sync, stomping a hoof on the wooden floor.
Little did the group know, a malevolent darkness was encroaching on the dugouts. The rhythmic choke of an engine, barrels filled to the brim with cider, swaying from side to side.
“Good, now for the opposite team,” Strongheart continued, “since these are all ponies you know, try not to go too wild out there, but don’t be afraid to go hard on them, either. We have a duty to win this!”
As the little buffalo brought out a chart she had been given which detailed the members of the opposing team, two unicorns slipped through the back entrance, carrying with them, in their emerald magic’s grip, two kegs full of apple cider. Little Strongheart’s tough exterior shattered and she nearly leapt out of her hooves as two voices blasted a greeting through the dugouts. The buffalo all looked round a corner to see the two yellow unicorns on their way towards them. “What is this all about??” Little Strongheart exclaimed with a glare.
Flam sauntered up to her, a grin on his face. “Why, my brother and I just wanted to give you a head’s up and a little encouragement,” he tapped a hoof on one of the barrels, “before the games begin!”
“And why should we take anything, let alone in good faith, from you?” she asked with a sneer.
Flam tipped backwards slightly, his mouth agape in shock while his brother just watched with a smile. “How shocking.” The elder brother leaned back, this time bending forwards as he came within inches of her face. “A Buffalo with no room for amnesty.” He gave her back her space and leaned against the other barrel. “All we’ve come here to do is offer you dear fellows a drink after all!”
Little Strongheart held back her anger at the two, instead choosing to divert it into what she thought would make a good insult. “As if we would accept that cider from anypony but Braeburn, knowing where it’s been after all.”
The brothers passed a glance of confusion between each other for a moment. Flim stepped forwards, bringing one of the barrels with him. He opened the top and wafted the smell about with a hoof. “But don’t you see?” he asked with a grin. “This is Sweet Apple Ranch cider. When we took over the orchard and called it Flim Flam Frontier, we didn’t go so far as to replant all the trees.”
“Too expensive,” his brother added.
“Trust me, this cider is just the same quality as that from Braeburn’s little twenty-percent, maybe even better!”
Little Strongheart’s glare bore into him, and it was only getting deeper the longer the unicorn went on. Flim took the hint and backed off slightly, but he still wore the confident grin. The little buffalo noticed that he was watching something behind her while he relaxed, she twisted round only to witness the end of a conversation involving her entire team. The six of them exited their rugby huddle-like debate and turned to face the businessponies again, apparently having come to a decision.
“Erm, would this be considered a peace offering or just a donation?” asked the one at the front.
The brothers glanced at each other again, this time passing off a silent conversation. “Whichever you’d like best,” answered Flim.
“H-hey! What do you- oof!” Before Little Strongheart could protest against her team’s gluttony, they pushed past her towards the barrels and began taking large swigs of the high-quality concoction.
Their coach staggered back and shook her head, her eyes went wide in horror as she saw what they were doing. “But this will make them drunk!” she exclaimed, glancing between the two unicorns in panic.
“Oh don’t worry,” Flam dismissed with a smile, “these are big guys, they’re not just weak little earth ponies, they should be fine!”
“Besides, look at how much fun they’re having!” Flim finished with a not-so-subtle evil grin.
Not two minutes passed between Flim and Flam scampering away on their death machine, and the entrance of the two apple farmers who had been on their way down to see how their team - and its Coach - were doing. When Braeburn, with Applejack in tow, trotted into the dugouts, he came upon an odd sight.
“And you, Bill, I expected better from you!” came the voice of Little Strongheart as she gave her team the whipping they deserved.
Braeburn raised an eyebrow at the scene just before Applejack rushed past him. The other farmer grabbed the little buffalo in a big hug, eliciting a short squeal before Little Strongheart realized what was happening. “Little Strongheart!” said Applejack, beaming like a fool, “It’s been too long!”
“Wh- A-Applejack?!” she cried. Applejack placed her back on the ground, the team of buffalo now sniggering behind their hooves. “It is you! How have you been?”
“Pretty ok, fer the most part at least...”
Little Strongheart tilted her head, asking Applejack to elaborate. “Hm? Is something troubling you?”
Applejack shifted her hooves awkwardly and stayed silent. Braeburn stepped forwards, still looking curious. “Say, Strongheart...” Applejack closed her mouth again, having been cut off. “ah, sorry ta interrupt but... what was that about, just before we came in?” he asked.
The team coach gave a sigh and pointed at the empty cider barrels. Only one explanation went through Braeburn’s mind and it turned his mood sour. “Flim and Flam stopped by and offered everyone their cider.” She turned and pointed yet another glare at her team. “And these feather brains took it like it would be their last drink on Epona!”
Braeburn stomped a hoof on the wooden planks that made up the floor. “Darn those... those...! Gah!” he shook his head, trying to dispel the anger and almost tossing his hat away in the process. “Are they tryin’ ta sabotage the game?”
Applejack gritted her teeth. “After all they’ve done...”
Little Strongheart sighed again and glanced at her guilty-looking team. The lead buffalo rubbed his mouth and spoke up, “We should be alright, Coach. I am not feeling any worse for wear yet.”
“Ah hope you’re right,” said Applejack, “Ah don’t think any of us want the Flim Flam Brothers messin’ with your first game.”
Braeburn nodded, “Let’s hope that’s the last we see of them,” a few moments of silence passed, as each of them knew that wouldn’t be the case, “come ta think of it... what time is it?”
The blaring sound of a pair of large trumpets suddenly echoed through the dugouts. Little Strongheart’s eyes went wide and she turned back to her team, who were all standing to attention. “It’s time!” she exclaimed. “Get out there and do us proud! And don’t let that cider get the best of you!”
“Yes Coach!” they answered loudly before marching out in single file, into the centre of the stadium.
The Appleloosa Stadium was packed, at least by Appleloosa standards. Most seats remained empty due to the town’s meager population, but nevertheless the air was filled with roaring cheers of excitement as the two teams lined up on either side of a short net. One of ponies, the other of buffalo, they both bowed to each other and got into their positions, ready for the game to begin.
The ball curled oddly through the air with each bounce, the chunk of wood in its centre giving it an off-centre gravity while the spider silk surrounding it caused it to bounce high into the air as the players fought to reach it before it could perform a second bounce, awarding a point to the opposing team.
Most of the players had little to no experience in the Volleyball-like game, tumbling over each other as the buffalo - who had trained every night and day for this moment - scored point after point. Eventually the ponies’ rather pitiable performance began to turn around, the buffalo’s reign of terror slowing down before stopping entirely when one of them crashed through the side of the stadium.
Everyone looked on in shock as the stumbling beast picked himself up and went for another try, crashing into the wall directly next to the hole he had just created. Little Strongheart held a hoof to her mouth, knowing exactly what was wrong. “Oh no, this is bad,” she said.
“That’s a drunken buffalo if Ah’ve ever seen one,” said Braeburn gravely. He looked at his friend. “Do ya wanna call off the game?”
“No use, we’re nearly at the end now,” she replied.
The score broke draw and passed into the ponies’ favour as more buffalo fell to the cider’s effects. Some lost their balance and tumbled over trying to strike the ball as it whizzed over their heads, some tottered around like a stack of dinner plates before coming to rest on the edge of the stadium, causing yet more destruction. Some even butted heads with one another, throwing insults in a drunken rage.
Watching from one of the dugout entrances stood the Flim Flam Brothers, giving each other a wink over a job well done. “Well, Flam, I’d say it’s about time we brought an end to this charade...”
“Indeed, brother, now where’s the megaphone?”
The crowd tossed apples, hats and various other objects into the ring in protest of the events taking place within. Flim and Flam sauntered through the storm, calm and smiling confidently, just like they always were.
Somewhere on the other side of Equestria, there was a calamitous crash.
“What are they doing...?” Braeburn seethed under his breath. He along with Little Strongheart and Applejack were all leaning forwards in their seats, each ready to give a memorable pounding to the two.
Flam raised the megaphone, politely waiting for the crowds to notice their presence before chuckling. “Well... wasn’t that a show?” he called. The audience stayed silent. “You’re probably wondering; ‘What are Flim and Flam doing in the field? Aren’t we supposed to be watching Buffalo Ball?’ well you see...” he said, offering a hoof out in front of him, “that’s the point.”
The three friends watched on in horror and rage. Little Strongheart’s face started to twitch. The headrest of the seat in front of her was showing cracks as she twisted it in her hooves.
“After all the work that went into this. The training, the advertising, even the construction of this magnificent stadium!” Flam continued. “It seems to be all for naught; Buffalo Ball has proven itself to be a failure, and now this place has lost its meaning.”
As the boos and insults rained down from the stands, Flam passed the megaphone to his brother. “But please! Do not despair, my fellow Equestrians! For we, the Flim-Flam Brothers, have come up with an alternative!”
“So THAT’S what they were planning!” shouted Little Strongheart, her two friends flinching away as she smashed the entire seat ahead of her.
“That’s right, folks! We can still make good use, heck, better use of this place with what we call... Dust Hockey!”
The last shadows of morning were vanquished as something massive tore around the nation.
“I’m putting a stop to this!” said Little Strongheart as she threw her cloak off, hopping out of her seat and down into the rows.
“Count me in!” said Applejack, getting up out of her seat before she was stopped by her cousin.
“H-hey, ain’t this dangerous?” he asked, holding onto her arm.
Applejack raised an eyebrow at him.. “You sayin’ Ah can’t handle a little drop distance? ‘Sides, don’t you wanna bust ‘em up too?”
Braeburn paused for a moment, mentally slapping himself for talking like a fool. “O’ course Ah do!” he answered, his brow furrowing into a frown.
Little Strongheart wore a look of thunder as she slowly stalked towards the brothers. They had been listing the rules and making them seem fun and dramatic for a while now, and they were still doing it. Flim stopped and looked down as the buffalo tapped him on the chest, quickly finding himself tumbling through the air as a result of her turning around and kicking her back legs into him.
A rumble. A light appears in the distance.
Flam screamed in terror, rushing over to his fallen comrade and holding up a limp hoof, feeling his brother’s wrist to check for a pulse. Little Strongheart rolled her eyes and crept closer, a menacing smile on her face. To the cheers of the crowd, Flam crawled back as his brother sat up, holding a hoof to where the buffalo had hit him. “N-now now! No need to get violent!” his brother cried, shaking his other hoof in front of him to keep her away.
“We’ll do anything you want! We can work something out, some compensation perhaps?”
Little Strongheart stopped. “You can start by apologising to me, my team and all of Appleloosa for what you have done today!”
Flam raised the megaphone with his magic and called a quick, “We’re sorry!” He dropped it again and laughed nervously as the buffalo snarled at him.
“And to do that,” she continued, “you can start by giving...” She thought for a moment, “seventy percent of Braeburn’s orchard back.”
“WHAT?!” cried Flam.
“Deal!” said his brother. Flam’s face went pale and he passed out on the ground.
The watering hole stirred, the sand began to vibrate. A rusty windmill’s turbine found its way off of its tower. A sound met the ears of the audience as the sunrise appeared for a second time.
“Second,” said Braeburn as he and Applejack reached them, “you are banned from entering the Appleloosa Stadium, and you can’t venture onto my lands once you hoof them over.”
“Aha... i-is that not-”
“No,” Strongheart answered for him.
Applejack looked down at the ground with a frown, an odd sensation running through her hooves. “Hey Braeburn...”
“And third- hm? What?” he asked before noticing the ground.
“The sand is hoppin’ all over the place, what’s goin’ on?”
The cheers from the audience suddenly transformed into screams of terror as everything lit up in a bright flash of light. Without warning, two walls of blinding energy met just behind the stadium, bringing with them a horrific, chaotic noise that wracked through the minds of everyone who heard it. Applejack shouted and held her ears in pain, trying to block out the sound as it tore mercilessly through her thoughts. The brothers seemed to be faring even worse, their horns glowing brightly and crackling with magical discharges. As her vision began to blotch and darken, she saw a number of large, hairy forms rush towards her and the others. She felt herself being lifted into the air just before blacking out.
~~~~~~~
It hit them in a manner akin to a storm, the violent shockwaves of foreign energy tore at their very essence like the beasts I call family upon their brethren. It drew them away from their utopia and into a place from out of their deepest nightmares. The very place I once called home.
Now the cruelest of fates falls upon them, for to exist in this world is to know the meaning of torture itself.
And they are not prepared.
“Your life becomes as the Sands of Time. Inevitable. Unstoppable. Struggle to scream so as not to fall to the great black. Reaper! Reaper! Spare me your toll as you gaze at me from the sky. A great display of birth heralds the hour of despair.“
~~~~~~~
In that single moment, a great many things happened.
Canterlot lost an alicorn.
Equestria lost Appleloosa.
And the planet lost Equestria.
Day 1, one hour after transportation.
Applejack screamed inside her head as she opened her eyes. The excruciating pain still battered about her thoughts like a hurricane tearing up a forest. The room she lay in spun slowly as she rolled over on the bed, all the while moving her eyes across it in a dreary pattern. She could barely make anything out, the colours were all merging together into a sickening mess while her body itself felt as numb as a corpse.
The hairy figure, which she soon realized was a buffalo, suddenly filled her vision as she felt herself impact the floor. His voice slowly grew clearer. “-plejack, wake up!” She shook her head, expressionless. “Are you alright? Can you hear me?”
“Y-y-... yes...” she whispered in reply, unable to force out anything louder, “where... where is... everyone?” she asked.
The buffalo went silent for a minute, Applejack slowly leaned upwards, her arms struggling to keep her steady. The buffalo gently pushed her back down on the bed. “You will see them soon...” he answered, “but for now, you are injured, so you should stay still.”
“N-no... Ah can’t, Ah have to know if everyone’s alri-alright. What hap-... happened?”
“... I don’t know.”
A minute passed before Applejack lost her patience. Pushing herself up with a painful groan, the farmer rolled onto her stomach and got off the bed. Rather than send her back, the buffalo helped her up this time. “Can you walk?” he asked.
“I’ll be fine...” she answered, rubbing her aching forehead. Her senses were beginning to return now. She was in one of the buffalo’s teepees, it was dark out, and very, very cold. “How long have Ah been asleep?”
“Just an hour or so.”
The buffalo lead her out of the teepee and into the freezing open, hoofing her a bed sheet to keep her warm. Applejack still shivered, she looked around as her vision started to return some more. She frowned. “Just an hour?” she asked, “Then why’s it so dark?”
The teepee’s surroundings were dull and greyed out. The sand no longer reflected the bright light of the sun, and instead lay a depressing grey with only a hint of its former hue visible. Along with the darkness and cold came a blustering wind, whipping past her and blowing her hair in front of her face. Both of her red bangles were missing.
The buffalo guided her over to a familiar pony sitting a few metres away from the tribal hut. Braeburn sat with his back turned, gazing out into the distance. The kind buffalo let her go and Applejack rushed over to him, stumbling slightly but keeping her footing. She wrapped him in her hooves. “Braeburn, you’re alright!” she cried.
Braeburn didn’t reply. He didn’t even react.
Applejack watched him for a few seconds before becoming worried. “Braeburn...?”
“Applejack,” he replied at last, but in a voice completely unlike him, devoid of life. His eyes gazed off into the distance, empty and mournful. “Have your eyes adjusted yet?”
Applejack looked past him at the blur that was the horizon. “No, they haven’t...” She looked up away from the desaturated sands into the dark sky. A strange, crescent-shaped moon shining down upon them. “Say... what time is it? Ah was only asleep for an hour, wasn’t Ah?”
“Yes. It’s just past noon now.”
She frowned and let go of him. She trotted around him, showing her growing irritation with each step. She came to a stop in front of him. “Now look, this ain’t like you! Quit acting like you’ve just lost your favorite hat down the waterin’ hole or somethin’!”
Without warning, Braeburn grabbed her by the shoulders and turned her around, pointing a hoof at Appleloosa. Applejack squinted for a few moments and brushed the hair out of her face, trying to figure out what she was looking at.
The colour drained from her face.
Appleloosa was gone. Her growing panic and horror suddenly deepened as her eyes scanned past the missing town, only to find that the horizon was a lot closer than it used to be.
“Appleloosa is gone. It’s all gone,” said Braeburn, his voice beginning to shake, “everything I’ve ever done. It was all taken in that flash of light.”
Applejack held a hoof to her mouth in absolute shock. She didn’t say anything, she couldn’t. No words came to mind that would snap Braeburn - or even herself as she was finding - out of this spiral of remorse. They sat in silence as their tears became streams.
She swallowed and asked the question that had begun to plague her mind. “Where... where is everyone?”
Braeburn didn’t answer.
She shot round with a furious glare. “Braeburn! Don’t you DARE stay silent now!!”
“We...” he slowly began, “we couldn’t save everyone.” Her eyes went wide, her body froze in shock. “The Macintosh Hills vanished,” Braeburn explained, “the stadium was right on the edge and-... and it fell. Some of us couldn’t get out in time... and then...” He choked on his tears. “th-the sand... began to flow off of the edge... a-and then Appleloosa went with it...”
“Is... is Little Strongheart...?”
He stared at her. “She’s still here. So are the Flim and Flam brothers.” He held his head in his hooves, his body was visibly shaking. “But it doesn’t matter, we’re already dead. We all are! The ponies and Buffalo who fell off the edge were the lucky ones, now we’re all left alo-”
*SMACK*
“The Braeburn Ah know doesn’t talk like that...”
“...”
“Why’re you panicking... when there are still,” she held back a whimper as the tears rained down again, “w-when there’s... s-still ponies to save?”
They collapsed onto each other, breaking down with an indescribable sense of mourning hanging over them.
A very nearly blank expanse stared back at the two ponies as they ventured across the wide slope leading down to the edge. Applejack turned over a tiny wind farm’s blade, it was one of the lucky few pieces of Appleloosa remaining. The rest were nothing but bits of trash and materials scattered across the terrifying dip; pieces of wood, violently torn parts of what were once homes, shattered carriages, produce and many other possessions.
The wind blew past them and over the edge, taking with it all the warmth of the day that had so suddenly vanished. Up in the sky shone, instead of a sun, the crescent moon. The light it cast was not the brilliant, kind embrace of Princess Luna, as humble as it was beautiful. It was instead a glare that scorned the foreign land, causing the shadows to grow long and sharp, and the starless night sky to seem unfriendly and dead.
Braeburn walked behind his cousin, keeping a close eye on where they were stepping. “No one’s been to the edge yet. Everyone’s been too scared after what... happened,” he explained. He looked at what had previously been somepony’s home before tearing his eyes away. “Everythin’s... gah.” he rubbed his forehead, trying to keep further tears from falling.
Applejack turned round and looked him in the eyes. A few seconds passed, but she couldn’t think of anything to say in order to sooth her cousin. Eventually she gave up, simply settling on a question that had been bugging her for a while now. “What did happen, exactly?” she asked.
Braeburn passed her a rather hurt look. He didn’t want to have to go through it again. “... Didn’t Ah already tell you?”
“Well yeah, but... you were kind of... in a rut at the time.”
Braeburn stared at her for a minute before letting out a sigh. “Fine, what happe-”
“A-Ah mean, you don’t have to if you don’t wanna! Ah know it must be hard...”
He nodded before continuing. “... in the stadium, that wall of light appeared, right?” She nodded. “When that happened, this weird... this horrible sound went through everyone’s heads. A lot o’ ponies started passin’ out, like you did, but the Buffalo seemed to bear it a lot easier. They’re the ones who saved us, even some of Strongheart’s team managed to break through their cider stump.”
Applejack’s face turned white all of a sudden. “Some...?”
Braeburn went silent. “... Yes. Some.” He left little time for the revelation to sink in before continuing. “Ah stayed awake longer than most since they got me and Little Strongheart away from the wall pretty quickly, but everyone who was sitting at the southern end of the stadium? They weren’t so lucky...”
“Ah see...”
The two stayed in silence for a few minutes longer. Applejack looked about the vanished ruins of Appleloosa. “And then... the Macintosh Hills vanished, right?” Braeburn nodded. “And then the sand...” she turned back to face the edge, “flowed south to fill the gap...”
The pair then trotted slowly towards the edge, their hooves scratched on the bare rock that had been revealed underneath the sand as they reached the bottom of the slope. Applejack slowly made her way to a point that was slightly tilted upwards, rather than down, and risked a glance over the edge of the world.
Nothing but grey. She couldn’t tell what it was thanks to her damaged eyesight, but judging by how the moonlight reflected off of it in a steady wave pattern, one could have almost mistaken the landscape down below for dunes.
“Woah nelly...” she said, Braeburn caught her to stop her from leaning any further, “ain’t that a hauntin’ sight?”
Closer to the edge shone a very bright region, sparkling white near the outer edge with a reddish glow coming from further in.
Applejack sat down on her haunches a couple of feet away from the edge and shook herself back to reality. “Ah think Ah’m ready ta go back now...” She flinched as she realized what she had said. There wasn’t anywhere to go back to anymore, it was all... she leaned again... over the edge. She snapped back, she didn’t want to know how far Appleloosa had fallen before meeting the grey desert below.
Braeburn seemed to have gotten the message, he stood up and motioned for her to follow him. “Come on, it’s too cold out here, and it’s dangerous too. We should head back to the other survivors, last Ah saw they were putting up some shelters with the scraps they could salvage.”
Applejack nodded and began to follow him.
Inside one of the buffalo tribe’s teepees lay Flam, rolling around in his bed with sweat dripping off of him. Like Applejack, he had the owner of the tent watching over him. The young-looking buffalo swallowed nervously as he watched, discharges of black magic still crackled along the length of Flam’s horn, and he was clearly suffering because of it.
The teepee opposite Flam’s was occupied by his awake, and very lively brother.
“Don’t touch it!!” came a panicked cry from within the tent, the broken unicorn thrashed at the grime covered hoof, trying to hide his now black horn from the buffalo herbalist.
“Stay still! It will never get better if you do not let me help you!” the buffalo exclaimed in response before going in again for another shot.
Flim batted it away again and then covered his severely blackened horn with his hooves, only to yelp in pain.
The large buffalo narrowed her eyes. “Show a little courage, losing your horn is not the end of the world. We Buffalo live without Magic every day!”
“And look how far that got you!” Flim retorted.
A scream was heard from inside the tent, echoing slightly off of the rock formation the survivors had taken shelter behind. Teepees from the Buffalo’s tribe were being carried over in order to provide warmth as well as some extra mental defence against the horrors of the day. As Braeburn had said, the few remaining pieces of Appleloosa had been picked up by the town’s former inhabitants and were being placed back together in a slowly growing slum type setup.
The largest of the teepees was surrounded by worried looking buffalo, for inside lay a broken Thunderhooves, his body covered in bandages and his heart peppered with scars. Little Strongheart finished squeezing the small, white cloth and used it to replace the one on his forehead. The giant buffalo was groaning in pain, the bandages around his waist had turned red and his coat was matted with sweat.
“Chief, please stay strong. The tribe cannot function without its leader,” said the tiny buffalo, shaking him slightly to stop him from dozing off.
The Chief’s breaths had become labored in the past half hour, and despite Strongheart’s best efforts, his situation was declining. He gave a groan as he turned his head to face her, then raising a hoof to place it on her cheek. “Little... Strongheart...” he spoke weakly, “do not worry... if the tribe... loses its leader...”
“Don’t say that, you know we will never let that happen!” the tiny buffalo assured him in spite of his condition.
He smiled warmly for a moment before the expression of affection was suddenly marred by a fit of coughing. He ignored her protest and looked back at her with a now steely expression, one that he had become known for when times got rough, “If the tribe loses its... l-leader... my heart must live on...” he placed the hoof to her chest, “in you... You mus- *hurk-k-uk* m-must live up to your name! If I am to die-”
Strongheart’s heart clenched and her eyes went wide. “Don’t say that!!” she shouted. The room went silent, tears flowed freely down the young buffalo’s face. She took her chief’s hoof in her own and held it close to her for the longest time.
Eventually she laid it back down by his side and noticed that he had drifted off to sleep. After a flight of panic, she heard his heart beating strongly, yet slowly inside his chest. She wiped the tears from the edges of her eyes and began to replace his cloth again.
A few minutes passed before the sound of hoofsteps came towards the large tent. Little Strongheart turned to see two sets of hooves at the door. One orange, the other yellow. “May we come in?” came Braeburn’s voice.
The little buffalo stayed silent for a moment, still buried in her thoughts. “You can come in.” she answered.
The decorated flap that served at the teepee’s entrance was moved aside as the two walked in. The insides of the tent were littered with gifts of all kinds, some of them with a small, pink feather attached, and other with a paper heart. The dusty ground had been covered by a woven rug, while a lantern dimly shone atop its stand next to the bed.
A small wave of relief washed over Applejack as she saw Little Strongheart, alive and well. Her cousin walked past her and up to the bed. “How is he?” asked Braeburn.
Little Strongheart glanced between her friends, her chief, and his wounds before answering, “... I’m doing all I can,” she replied quietly.
“... And?”
A mournful look crossed over her face. “He isn’t well.” She raised a hoof past the cloth and stroked the back of his head. “He got stuck when the stadium fell, trapped in the exit of all places. We- the other buffalo couldn’t get him out before Appleloosa began to fall, and...”
She stopped as Braeburn placed a hoof on her shoulder. The understanding was clear on his face, his green eyes had become dull and let the sadness he felt show through. “Ah understand how you feel,” he said, his voice missing the usual perkiness that gave him his confidence and charm, “Ah’ve lost... a lot today, everythin’ Ah worked on...” he shook his head and took a breath, “but even so, I’ll try mah best to help those Ah still can, in any way Ah can... what can Ah can do ta help?”
Strongheart gave a weak smile. “Thanks...” She turned back to the chief. “I have done all I can for him, but these injuries are past what most of my tribe’s doctors can heal... We need a proper healer. Even our skills with medicine can do no more than slow down his wounds and if Chief Thunderhooves doesn’t get proper treatment... he... m-might not make it.”
The former farmer stood back up, a shadow of determination now showing in his eyes. “We’ll do our best to find someone who can help,” he answered, “but until then... stay strong, Strongheart.”
Braeburn tipped his hat and made his way out of the tent with the silent Applejack in tow. “How is he?” asked one of the buffalo crowded around the outside.
Braeburn rubbed the back of his mane and replied with a sigh. “Ah’ll tell ya the truth... he ain’t doin’ well,” he explained quietly, “tell me, do you know of anypony with good medical expertise?”
The buffalo and ponies looked between each other, the question was passed from face to face, but all shook their heads. But before Braeburn could curse his luck, Applejack spoke up, “Ah might know somepony.”
The crowd brightened up. “Who?”
She tapped a hoof to her chin. “Well, not somepony, but someplace. The Hospital in Ponyville is the first thing that comes to mind. Maybe they’ll be able ta spare someone ta come down and help out Chief Thunderhooves?”
Braeburn put a hoof to her chest, now looking excited. “How fast could you send them here?”
Applejack paused, suddenly realizing that in that one instant the crowd had placed all their hope and trust on her shoulders, “Ah... Ah guess Ah could ask as soon as Ah get back ta Ponyville.”
A smile spread over her cousin’s face, and that caused a smile to spread over her own face as well.
Until she realized something.
“Ponyville.” Her pupils shrunk and her mouth hung agape. Braeburn seemed to have had the same thoughts as he was wearing an identical expression. The crowd moved aside as they galloped through.
To the edge of the remnant-made village they ran, kicking up sand in great plumes and braving the rapidly chilling environment to take a look at the horizon. The other one. They shared a glance at each other as they stared over the sands stretching out ahead of them. Everything to the South had vanished in the strange wall of light, but in every other direction the land remained pristine.
“Ah think we’d better get to a carriage, if the desert North of Appleloosa is still here...” began Applejack.
“Then maybe everything past that will be as well!” Braeburn finished.
“We might be able to do you better than a carriage,” came a deep voice from behind them. They turned to see one of the buffalo standing with a smile on his face. He pointed to a number of shapes heading towards them. “The train fell along with Appleloosa, but a few of the carts survived. My friends are now putting them back on the rails for you to travel in, is that ok?”
They wore a mixture of surprise and appreciation. “It sure is!” Applejack replied, “Ah guess this is as much your fight as ours.”
Within a few minutes the three had reached the intact section of the railway leading from the western town. They watched as the three buffalo who had tied themselves to the train carriage beat down the uneven ends of the rail and slowly guided the carriage onto it. Applejack turned to her cousin. “Are ya ready ta go?”
A slightly awkward look covered his face and he rubbed the back of his neck. “Actually... Ah’ll probably be stayin’ here. This here town needs me, no matter if half of its gone.” He looked up at her as she leaned on the edge of the car’s door and smiled, he didn’t need to tell her any of this, she already knew. “... see ya cus’.”
She tipped her hat as the buffalo began to move. “Good luck, Braeburn. Ah promise I’ll bring back help for ya!”
“You better! But don’t worry too much, as long as we stand together, we can make it through anythin’!”
The lone train cart slowly shrank into the distance as Braeburn waved his hat to his cousin, wishing her a safe journey and a happy reunion. He breathed a deep sigh and placed it back on his head, now staring up into the sky once again at the bright, menacing moon. “Stay safe, Applejack.”
~~~~~~~
I think back and realize that they were fools, just as we were. They thought their garden of Eden would remain forever more a haven, just as our graveyard would never lose its envy of the living.
Fate is not selective, fate is cruel to all.
And so the despair begins.
Author's Note
“So things are finally off the drawing board and onto digital paper... One and three-quarter years ago, I had an RP with my friends. It was a silly little thing: “This guys a Griffon!” “This guy’s a blacksmith with an EPIC PAST!” “And I’m me!” A Bleach/MLP crossover, what a fun idea, what contrasting themes, what... potential.
Hold onto your butts, that potential has broken free from its cage and has grown into an absolute monster. This is The Blacksmith Saga.”
