The moral of the story is to think before you act.
This is a story I wrote originally with no intention of publishing. It was written off a random prompt of the following words: Orange, red, apocalypse, and fall. From there I wrote a story that has a plot, but doesn't follow it. That has characters, but forgets them from time to time, and that really really just wants to teach a single moral. Think before you act.
The orange tree had stood for a very long time. It did not notice when a young boy in a red sweater dodged around it, laughing with his father. It did not notice when the boy came back so many years later, alone. It did not notice as the land around it became neglected, and the city in the distance became not so distant. The city soon embraced it in its grasp as though a father holding a child while smoking.
It was a slightly chilly day in November when the first businessmen sat under its branches to discuss the new mall, how much land would be needed and what to name it. One of them looked up to the ancient tree with a smile. “Orange Grove mall.” He proposed. It was a hit with the board, funding was found and the mall was built practically around the now towering giant, the mall grew and evolved as the tree towered up to the second, then third floor of the steel and concrete structure. The tree had survived harsh winters and scorching summers, now it was fed by a drip line and kept at ideal temperatures. Even its leaves were picked up after it dropped them.
The day came when the mall received no more visitors, when the city around it froze, as though stopped in time. The tree did not notice, it carried on. The glass panes above broke and fell to the earth around the great orange, and it grew into the sky above the fading city, a dot of green on a grey skyline.
One day, it received two visitors, and after so long being alone, it turned its attentions to the pair. An old man and a teenager. The elder of the two walked with a determination that many of his age would lack the strength to show, each footstep planted with the clear knowledge of where it would lead. His walking stick was barely noticed, until he lost hold of it. A mask of calm and strength let him survive in a world that had lost so much. His long platinum silver hair was tied back under a black fedora that had also seen better days, and his red sweater vest held back the biting air.
“So Grandfather, why did you bring us out here?” The teen asked, as he stared at the aging orange tree.
“To remind you of the past, son. To remind you of what matters. You damn well could have killed yourself yesterday.” He scolded quietly. His words had no real bite to them as he found a seat among the broken concrete blocks surrounding the tree’s massive roots.
“I would have been fine had the rope held steady!” The teenager shot back. “Besides, its just a tree.”
The old man just smiled and patted the stone next to him. “Sit, be calm. There is a great deal you have to learn about the value of stillness.”
The teenager just laughed. “No offense gramps, but I can be still when I’m dead. There’s too much to do for me to just sit around.” The teenager said, idly pacing back and forth.
His grandfather set his hat down and ran a hand through his silver hair. “Oh I understand, very well. I will speak to you, instead of with you.” He said with a glint in his eyes, his constant verbal tweaks and comparisons always driving the younger of his kin mad.
“Once, such a very long time ago, there was a young girl who found no need to wait, to be patient, or to look before she lept. Her name was Radin. She was a brash and impulsive girl, and in her clan she was the only who was not willing to tend the fields or do the housework. She knew she was destined to great things. The clan of Washab was a small one, and it took every hand and every foot to make it through the winters. But Radin was too eager to find her great destiny.”
------
“Are you joking? Instead me being out there adventuring, trying to find my destiny, you want me to scrub floors. You’re out of your mind.” The young girl said back before taking off out the front door, leaving it wide open.
The girl ran for no reason other than to run, her legs pumping wildly to push her over hills and streams until she came to a cliff looking over the valley of dreams. No one had ever been down into the valley, and the deep mists within hid everything from sight. The world below and beyond were the greatest mystery, and for all the times she had been forbidden from venturing downwards, it was her fondest desire.
“This is it. Nobody’s going to stop from finding out whatever’s down in that valley. I bet it’s something amazing! They’ll make me a hero for it!” Radin said, excitedly.
She was not an expert climber, but with a length of rope, she made her way down the cliff face, and descended into the mists.
------
“Gramps, are you making this up just to teach me a lesson? Because I get it, no rope climbing up giant trees, really I get it.” The teenager interrupted, crossing his arms impatiently.
“Oh no.” The old man chuckled, shaking his head. “A minor coincidence, son. Notice she didn't fall.” He said with a small smile, getting an embarrassed blush out of his grandson.
“Now... where was I?...”
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Descending into the mists, Radin could barely see her hand in front of her face, much less the ground. The rock wall seemed to go on forever, and eventually she reached the end of her rope, hanging by the knot with a painful decision to make. Drop the last bit in hopes that it was not that far, or climb back up?
“Just try and stop me.” She said with a grin as she let go, and luckily crashed into a large bush ten feet later.
“Ha!” She shouted as she pulled herself out of the bush, brushing off the dirt. “More proof I’m destined for greatness. Although, getting out later might be an issue.”
Pressing forward, Radin continued into the mists in search of whatever lay hidden in this valley. She came across what appeared to be the remains a horse of some sort, the bones bleached white and half buried in the soft earth. Onwards she pressed through the thick and unyielding fog. The world around her faded in and out of existence, as though constantly being redrawn at the whim of some great power. She made her way through the trees with what caution was due, but with the eager excitement of an explorer.
------
“I’m hungry.” The teenager chimed in. “Can’t we eat?”
The old man kept his eyes closed, knowing the boy was now sitting next to him as he smiled. “Patience. Our Radin was growing hungry as well.”
------
Radin’s stomach growled, the minutes in the fog having turned into hours. She was now looking for any type of food at all, anything to sustain herself further on her journey which had become a confusing twist of maze-like branches and shrubs.
With a burst of light, she stumbled into a clearing, the likes of which she had never seen. The fog stopped as a wall in a perfect circle around the spot, and in the center sat a solitary apple tree, leaning over a perfectly still pond.
Radin rushed to the tree, trying to reach for an apple, but they all hung directly over that perfectly smooth surface of water, that she leaned further and further over in a desperate attempt to feed herself. With one last grasp, she took hold of the fruit, and only then did she look down.
Upon looking into the pit, she found herself looking into the face of the most curious creature, a startlingly bright red, of the lightest shade, with a sad gaze.
Shaken, Radin leaned too far over the water, but held tight to the apple. Finally it snapped from its branch, and Radin fell into the water.
She awoke to a bright blue sky, with delicate white clouds dotting the sky. A groan, and she rolled to her side, a sudden jolt of pain shooting across her back. She squirmed to try and relieve the pain as her vision filled with a spray of colors. She was not seeing things, literally an array of bright colors had suddenly appeared in front of her eyes. “Ah!” She tried to stand and fell to her side, another jolt of pain causing her to wince.
Suddenly the light red creature was in front of her. “Hi.” It said in the squeakiest voice she had ever heard, its voice devoid of emotion.
“Ah!” Radin pushed herself away from it, flailing wildly as she lost her balance and landed hard on her butt, and leading to yet another jab of pain up her spine.
“Ouch, that looked like it hurt.” The creature said solemnly, suddenly right in her face again.
“How are you doing that?!” Radin shouted.
“Why are we shouting?!” It replied in the same volume, it’s monotone voice and expression never wavering as it tilted its head sideways.
“Because I don’t know what you are!” She said, throwing her suddenly stubby arms up into the air. She then looked to her own arms and screamed, “I don’t know what I am!”
“I’m a pony. You are a pony too.” It said simply, raising a single eyebrow as if daring Radin to challenge her facts.
She looked around at the small clearing she sat in, with a solitary gnarled tree overlooking a viewing pool. As she looked to the pool, her many colored hair slipped in front of her eyes again. “Why is my hair so bright? It was black this morning.” She asked, trying to keep her tone even.
“You came from the rainbow pool, makes sense to me.” The thing said calmly.
There was a moment of silence between them before Radin spoke again.
“What is your name?”
“Pinkie Pie.” She replied, bowing her head slightly. “A pleasure to meet your acquaintance.”
Radin looked away from the light red pony with its long straight hair, and she looked down at the stubby sky colored thing that took the place of her hand, placing weight on it experimentally and seeing it was quite sturdy.
“My name is Radin Washob.” The girl in a pony’s body said as she stood and tried to figure out where she was.
“That is a silly name. It doesn’t make any sense.” The pony named Pinkie Pie retorted bitterly.
“You’re one to talk, What is a Pinkie Pie anyway?!” Radin barked, only causing the other pony to step closer with a frown.
“My family is the Pie family, and I am Pink. What does your name mean?” She asked.
Radin shrunk away slightly, brows creased in concentration. “Something to do with the rain, okay? I think it means rain-fall’s blessing.”
Pinkie snorted. “Really? That’s just lazy.”
“What? My name is not lazy!”
“No, not you... I... I’m calling you Rainbow Dash, okay?” The pink pony instructed, turning and walking away without waiting for an answer.
“Where are you going?!” Radin called out, trying to rush after her but tripping a few times along the way.
“Home, I am hungry and I have to cook my own food. I created you so you will help me cook.”
“You didn’t create me!” Radin shouted back angrily. “You just pulled me through some pool.” She mumbled, finally catching up with Pinkie.
“Tomatoes Potatoes.” Pinkie said snootily.
Radin stopped, looking at Pinkie as though she were crazy. “What?”
“Momma says it all the time, it means that one thing is enough like another it just doesn’t matter.”
“I think it matters that I existed before today, don’t you?” Radin asked incredulously.
“No.” The other mare replied simply, before trotting away.
With an incredulous frown, the newly named “Rainbow” followed her supposed creator into the pony’s home.
This building was larger than anything Rainbow had ever seen before in her life, it was easily two great huts tall, and maybe four wide. The whole thing was made of unnaturally smooth and colorless pieces of wood, the color of dried bone.
“How many people do you have living here?” She asked, looking around in awe and fear at the massive structure. “A hundred?!”
Pinkie reappeared right in front of Rainbow’s face, causing her to leap backwards and fall into a heap of limbs.
“Ponies. How many ponies. The answer is five, stop being so loud,” she demanded, before turning and making her way back into the kitchen. Rainbow followed while looking at the odd flat surfaces that were placed around the room on stilts. One had flowers on it, another had flat objects with eerily lifelike drawings of these ponies on them, and another that was even bigger had circles of white stuff with knives and such next to them. So much room just taken up with raised surfaces.
As she finally got into the kitchen, Pinkie shoved a huge cold metal thing into her arms, followed by a thin metal thing that looked like a flower of some sort.
“Stir,” she demanded, before shuffling back to the bizarre equipment all around them.
Rainbow sighed. This was not only far from her idea of an adventure, but it was the same sort of repetitive tasks that she had always been forced to do back at home. With a huff, she dropped the metal things with a clatter on the floor. White powder and an egg slid out of the big round metal thing onto the floor.
“No.”
Pinkie Pie turned around wide eyed.
“What did you do?”
“I’m not going to--”
“WHAT DID YOU DO!?”
Pinkie Pie took a flat metal thing and started scraping the powder off the floor into the round one again, wide eyed and looking around frantically. Rainbow stepped back in fear, the expression on Pinkie’s face terrifying her.
“You don’t… Don’t waste food. This… This is food, you can’t waste it! We don’t have bread, ever, and I’m not going to be blamed for not having it AGAIN!”
Pinkie was crying as she gathered the egg and flour back in the bowl, and carefully picked out bits of wood that had been scraped up, little bits of dirt, until it was pure white again. She then looked up to Rainbow with suspicion.
“Don’t. Do. That. You stir. You move your hoof back and forth while holding the whisk. You keep doing that, I’ll add milk when I decide it’s time. Then… Then you keep stirring until I tell you to stop.”
She carefully placed the things back in Rainbow’s hooves, and in stunned silence, Rainbow did exactly what she was told, stirring carefully until Pinkie added an amount of a white liquid. Then it got harder to stir, but she kept going. A bit later, more white liquid, the stuff Pinkie had called milk. Finally, as Rainbow’s arm was getting tired and starting to ache, Pinkie yanked the bowl and whisk out of her grasp and gently pushed the thick dough into a square wood frame on one of those flat wooden surfaces. She then washed the bowl and came back to Rainbow with a rock.
“Here. Eat this. The bread won’t be ready to bake until tomorrow.”
Incredulously, Rainbow took the rock and tried to nibble on it, but it only hurt her teeth.
“She tried to eat a rock?” the old man’s grandson said in shock. “Why would she do that? You can’t eat rocks!”
The man chuckled and picked up a not too badly bruised orange off the grassy ground and held it out to the boy.
“She was in a world that didn’t make sense, she was a pony of all things, of course she tried. Besides, a Pie can be quite intimidating when they want to.”
The boy rolled his eyes and began eating the orange as the old man continued.
“I can’t… I can’t eat this,” Rainbow said meekly.
Pinkie sighed and took the rock back, munching on it as easily as fruit.
“Pegasus, of course you can’t, should have known you’d be too delicate.”
Pinkie beckoned for Rainbow to follow her, and led her to a separate room. This room was the size of Rainbow’s whole hut back home, but the walls were covered in shelves full of things, some recognizable, some not. Quickly, she spotted the apple she had picked from the tree.
“Hey, that’s mine!”
“I figured we could save it, but if you can’t eat our rocks, then you might as well have it,” Pinkie said with a shrug, turning away to sit in front of a small fire in a stone box.
Rainbow took back the apple and began eating it, quickly sitting taller and smiling as the juice dripped down her chin, and she ate even the core from how hungry she was. She then joined Pinkie next to the fire box.
“How does the fire not burn down your house?” she asked.
Pinkie looked to Rainbow, then up at the chimney, then back to Rainbow. She shook her head and sighed.
“It’s magic.”
“Oh.”
Rainbow settled in and warmed herself in front of the magic fire.
Pinkie didn’t react to the determined statement, and continued taking some rocks out of the ground and putting them in a pile while inexplicably leaving other rocks in the ground, forming lines of rocks.
“I’m going back to the pool. I’ll go back, and I’ll go home.”
This time, as Rainbow started walking towards the pool she noticed Pinkie following her, that same blank expression on her face, as though she was bored.
Rainbow got to the pool and looked into it, a sudden anxiety growing in her heart. It was suddenly apparent that it was incredibly deep, even though it had seemed shallow and reflective before. But, never one to obey or listen to her fears, she dove in.
There was no quick arrival on the other side, there was no swirl of color, or other side to arrive on. Instead, Rainbow suddenly realized she didn’t know how to swim, with hooves.
Flailing, water working its way into her nose and mouth, she felt a hard tug on her tail, and she was dragged out onto the ground. Coughing and panting, it took her a moment to see Pinkie, sitting next to her and looking genuinely worried.
“You can’t go back,” Pinkie said softly. “You can’t… I can’t, nopony can.”
“Well I’m not just a pony!” Rainbow shouted as she struggled to stand and backed away. “I’m Rainbow Dash, I’m better than anyone or anypony else, and I’ll find a way to go back!”
Pinkie had to restrain Rainbow as she charged towards the water again, keeping her from flinging herself back into the depths.
“Please, don’t… You don’t understand!”
Rainbow beat her wings, trying to add force to her push, but instead she found herself flung over the pool, gliding over the tree and over the fields, until she landed with a short trot, confused.
Looking back to Pinkie, she saw that the other pony was looking at her in surprise, from across the pool.
“You know what, if I can’t go back, then I’m leaving!” Rainbow decided, spreading her wings and blasting off straight up, in such a rush of speed that for a moment she completely forgot about her prior life, her old name, Pinkie, and the hunger in her belly.
She was flying. She was flying with such an incredible speed, unlike anything she’d ever experienced before. Turning over onto her back she moved from a vertical climb to a flat path over the tops of the clouds, but it wasn’t enough. She knew she could do more. She felt how even this blistering speed wasn’t enough, because there was a pain she was running from.
Faster and faster, the clouds rippled behind her, blown apart by her passing. Pouring on the speed, she wanted to stop thinking, stop feeling, and let go of it all. So, as she approached an impossible level of speed and she felt her body stretching against it’s limits, she closed her eyes, grit her teeth, and pushed even harder.
The old man closed the book and sighed, stretching a bit.
“That can’t be the end,” the boy groaned. “We’re just getting to the interesting bits!”
“You’re right,” the old man nodded. “But the sun is going down, and I’d rather be inside before it gets dark.”
“Yeah, yeah,” the boy sighed as he stood. “But… Could we come back and keep reading tomorrow?”
“Sure,” the man chuckled, leaning on his cane while he waited for the boy to lead the way. “Or maybe I’ll have you read it to me.”
“Noooo, is this all just some way of tricking me into reading?” the boy whined as he started to walk. “Reading is for eggheads.”
“But if only an egghead gets to finish the story, is it really so bad to be an egghead?” the man asked, as they left the old shopping mall, and the shade of the orange tree.
Rainbow Dash woke up in a sterile white room, under comfortable sheets, her head resting on a soft pillow. Somewhere in the distance there was a melody playing, and voices. But she could only think of the pounding in her head, and the aching in her wings.
It was like she’d woken up from a bad dream, only to be stuck in a bad life.
“Ah! You’re awake!”
The larger pony that was suddenly standing over Dash was the color of the sea, with wings and a white coat. Her mane and eyes were yellow, and she was altogether too close to Dash.
So Dash frowned, scooted away, and looked at the mare suspiciously.
“Oh, are you alright? What is your name, little filly?”
Rainbow remembered she’d had a name before, but it was so hard to remember, her headache getting worse whenever she thought about it. So she gave the name that was given to her.
“Rainbow Dash.”
“Well, Rainbow Dash. You were found crashed in the forest after an explosion was reported, do you remember what happened?” she asked as she checked the splint that held Dash’s wings stretched out straight.
“No,” she said simply, looking around. “I want to leave.”
“Well, we need to find your parents to do that. What are their names?”
Rainbow paused before glaring at the doctor.
“I don’t have any parents,” she said firmly.
That simple phrase began a week’s worth of investigation. At first, they thought she was a runaway, but they couldn’t find any reports of a rainbow-maned pegasus filly going missing, or even any record of a filly named Rainbow Dash ever existing. For a glorious moment, Rainbow Dash got to enjoy not existing, as far as society was concerned. She healed in the hospital, was given all the sympathy of an orphan, but left alone due to her brash attitude. She thought that surely they’d let her just leave once she was healed, like any wild animal back in the village. It looked like she was going to get what she wanted, until the day of her “release” arrived, and she was led into a small room with a very soft couch, where a mare and stallion were waiting.
The doctor sat across from them, behind a fancy desk, and as Rainbow entered she smiled and gestured to the two ponies.
“Rainbow Dash, these are going to be your new parents.”
