Brisk Bronco made his way, erratically, back up the crag and eventually found the place where the rest of his small group of ponies had camped: two elderly stallions, two mares. The mares, Sweet Leaf and Amber Drop, had also been out foraging. Sweet Leaf had brought in a slab of lichen; Amber a bit of nameless carrion.
The old stallions, Stiff Bristle and Jimbo Perhaps, sat quietly waiting for food or for death.
The mares greeted Brisk Bronco sullenly. “Where is the food you went forth to find?”
“I had a whole carcass,” said Brisk Bronco. “I could not carry it.”
Stiff Bristle had slyly stolen the slab of lichen and was cramming it into his mouth. It came alive, quivered and exuded a red ichor which was poison, and the old pony died.
“Now there is food,” said Brisk Bronco. “Let us eat this Stiff!”
But the poison created a putrescence; the body seethed with blue foam, flowed away of its own energy.
The females turned to look at the other old pony, who said in a quavering voice, “Eat me if you must—but why not choose Brisk, who is younger than I?”
Sweet Leaf, the younger of the mares, gnawing on the bit of carrion, made no reply.
Brisk said, warily, “We might not be the last Ponies. I saw two today that I thought were Monsters, but now I am not sure.” He related his encounter with the two alicorns.
“Monsters!” Jimbo exclaimed. “This is surely madness.”
“No,” Sweet Leaf replied firmly. “I believe them. We should try to find them and help.”
“We would be risking our lives for something that may not even exist,” Amber protested.
“But what do we have to lose?” Brisk cried out desperately. “We are already dead!”
“Then let us travel together,” said Sweet Leaf. “Let us try!”
So, together, they set out.
Celestia and Luna followed the trail of death and destruction left by Discord, who was traveling in fearful leaps and bounds. Then they were stunned by a vision of a bloody battle between Monsters and some form of frito banditos: they saw a great, white buffalo, but he was wounded and then fell, dying. Then they saw others, similarly wounded, and all of them died. The attackers had extracted creatures from the hearts of these proud buffalos, and left them to wither and die.
The sisters set off to follow the trail of deaths, over the hills and outward toward the sea.
Most certainly Discord had fled into the North Sea, and this was confirmed when they discovered a wrecked crude oil derrick, leaking black sludge into the water. Beyond that, he had sliced a massive gash into a steep cliff face, carving out a deep berth for himself and his followers in the sheer rock. Out from this cove peeped the head of an uprooted tree. They were surprised to see it for there were few living trees about these days. The tree quizzically looked at them, evincing no sign of fear. In fact, it seemed quite indifferent and not as though they posed any threat whatsoever. Perhaps it even thought that they were only another manifestation of its own mind.
The pair of ponies risked landing in the cove, where they came upon an outdoor dining eating area with an upscale restaurant and a buffet bar; the tablecloths were littered with tiny bits of food.
The two haggard and emaciated ponies looked around with astonishment. “Well... Perhaps we could tarry here for a little while before continuing our search,” Princess Luna suggested.
Brisk Bronco, Jimbo Perhaps, Sweet Leaf and Amber Drop approached a great hill, and at the foot of the hill they found a beautiful, golden bird, its feathers still bloodstained, its strings of pearls broken, and one side shorn of its tail feathers.
“I am the great dancer,” she said. “I sought to sing the heart of the world, and unleash the song upon the land.”
The ponies peered at her in puzzlement, but did not know what to say.
“But the song was within me,” she continued, “and I have killed myself.”
“We must follow the trail,” said Brisk.
“Then go,” she said softly. “But in the end, there is no trail. It is all destruction.”
After a hasty meal, the ponies departed and soon reached the hill.
Recognition dawned upon them. “This is. . . ” Brisk began.
“The spot where Rock Hounds once dug for gems and for the cream of the earth,” continued Sweet Leaf.
The four looked at one another, each hoping that the other would make the plunge into the hole, but each apparently too fearful to be the first.
A great wailing filled their minds suddenly, and they fell to their knees in fear. Then they saw the source of the noise: dire grackles!
These monstrous birds were composed of found bits and pieces: broken spectacles, umbrellas and coat hangers, harnesses and saddlebags, glass bottles and daguerreotypes, fur and feathers. They descended from the heavens in a raging flock, shrieking their hatred for the ponies. Their wings thundered against their foes as they swooped down to bite at Brisk Bronco's mane with razor sharp beaks. Sweet Leaf quickly reared up on her hind legs and struck out with her hooves. Jimbo Perhaps also joined them like an old war-horse making himself useful again by protecting his friends from harm’s way. The dire grackles were relentless, however. Even when all four defenders seemed to be doing everything possible, still there was no stopping these mad creatures who seemed determined to take away what precious little life spark had been left in this dread land.
It seemed the battle would soon be lost, but in desperation the ponies escaped by diving into the mysterious hole, and found themselves in a tunnel where the birds would not follow. They could hear the loud squawking and screeching noises of the grackles outside, prodding them further into the tunnels.
The ponies stumbled down the darkness, their eyes barely able to discern outlines of walls and objects around them. The tunnel seemed like it went on forever. But then they began to notice a strange luminescence coming from nests in the walls: dark eggs glowing with an eerie light! Awestruck at this wondrous discovery, they crept closer to examine these mysteries more closely. One by one each egg was cracked open; inside there were seemingly living creatures that jumped out—dazzling pocket dragons adorned with diamond necklaces and jewels that sparkled in the night like stars. The ponies were amazed. They had heard of such beings but had never before seen one.
The tiny dragons recited:
Disaster looms if you remain,
We cannot let that come to pass.
Our homeland, though dangerous, is where we sustain,
It's our only chance to outlast.
If you stay to aid us, we are doomed,
Forced to defend ourselves from you.
Hate and destruction will consume,
All that once was pure and true.
So please, do not try to help,
Just leave us here in this abyss.
Where no one can see or yelp,
And our struggles will not be missed.
“What is this doggeral?” Brisk asked. “I do not know it. I do not want for long poems! I want food and drink! I want a home and family!”
“Go then!” the Diamond Beasts cried with joyous tears glistening in their eyes. “Go! May you find the world you seek! If you find it, please let us know if we may follow. And tell us if this is death.”
“All right,” said Sweet Leaf. “Wait, what? Wait, no! Wait, what? Wait!” But they were already gone. In their place was another egg, one that was not moving, and inside there was no creature, only a tiny but vicious typhoon.
Sweet Leaf took that egg, wrapped it carefully in a cloth, cradled it close to her body and kept it close to her heart—for someday she would need an extra thing that could be broken to save her own life.
The four ponies continued down the tunnel, where Jimbo slipped and almost fell into a stream of moonmilk, but was caught and pulled back by Amber Drop.
After that close call, the group came upon a stream and another group of creatures: a mob of ghostly platypuses with beaks glowing like pearls at twilight. “We are unused to visitors,” they said. “What brings you to our home?”
“We wish to continue down the tunnel but we cannot see it well enough to view what may be there for us. Will you please guide us?” said Brisk anxiously.
Eagerly the platypuses accepted the request and surrounded the ponies, whistling and singing a rather eerie tune that acted as a torch for their eyes. Then they escorted the ponies all the way down the tunnel, until they emerged onto the shore of a misty sea. The ground was soggy and strewn with many fritos from earlier in the day. Despite the sorry state of these, the platypuses and ponies eagerly gobbled them up. Then the platypuses retreated into the underground, leaving the four ponies to ponder where they should venture next.
Celesta and Luna continued grimly tracking Discord across the land, while they seemed to be slowly losing the lightness of their spirit that they had previously had been so determined to preserve. At last when both ponies were tired, they stopped and rested beneath a large paramecium. Sighing wearily, Celestia stared into the rippling cilia of organism as it slowly drifted above them. “All we see is utter desolation. How can there be anything but death and misery here?”
“Is there any place we can go where there may yet be some solace?” Luna sighed, stamping her hooves in the dirt, striving to make their seat more homely and comfortable for her tired body.
“Our prospects of joy in this place be meagre, Sister,” Celestia answered sadly. “Ballad hath said that this land is too weak to defy Apep and his following—perhaps it hast already given up and hath accepted its unavoidable destiny of sorrow.” She lowered her eyes. “It mayhap be that our mission is already doomed.”
“But this is not our first time facing Apep,” said Luna. “We have always used our greatest effort; so it is not yet time for despair. I have trust in our power and aspire that we yet may prevail.”
“Verily, I would have the same certitude, Luna; yet, I deem we are in a woeful condition anent this, for if the land be capable of healing without the malevolence of savage creatures, then Ballad supposes that the ponies and other creatures here do not wish to relive their lives as others should likely prefer. This I deem strange, for this land could not maintain its aboriginal population without end, never persisting past the inevitable end of their season of life. Howsoever can one deem which is worse for a beast: a death or the constant torment of this life of chaos?”
“The answer doth elude us still,” sighed Luna. “However, in truth there is much we do not know of the world. Whilst it be true that there was afore time a time where naught was but this borderless land, and naught did exist within it save for those that were already inside it, from whom came Apep, how are we to know what life was before this realm? Apep, thine villain! All the world is Chaos’s plaything to destroy.”
“But enough of this persiflage! Look yonder!" Celestia pointed toward the horizon, where a great pink structure loomed up like a fantastic, crystalline castle. “That abomination can only be the work of Apep. Let us vanquish him first, and then see what can be done with the land.” She magically pulled out three magnificent, colorful gems from her equinventory, and they hovered before her. “Are you ready?” She looked to her sister.
Luna nodded and summoned her own three magical gems, then spread her wings and took flight once again, and her sister followed.
The four haggard ponies, Brisk Bronco, Amber Drop, Sweet Leaf and Jimbo Perhaps, wandered aimlessly along the shoreline of the sea, which was foul with the odor of salt, seaweed and blue raspberry gummi sharks. Suddenly they heard the sound of trumpets and military drums! The four looked up to see a large object emerging from the mist ahead. It looked like a nautical riverboat, ribbed with metal and plated all around with sharp-looking metal spikes. The boat was being pulled by a group of sea horses that hissed as they swam, a group that snickered like hyenas and had faces pockmarked with boils, tentacles in place of lips, too many eyes to count and curved spines bunching out the backs of their fishy lizard-like bodies.
“The Red Tide has come!” shrieked an old sailor donkey as he emerged from the dock upon which the boat was pulling into. “Hide yourself and run! Be not too late!” he cried, flinging down his cap.
From the riverboat poured a herd of Monsters, a motley crue of all descriptions. Their leader, however, was recognized. Brisk Bronco exclaimed, “That is the Monster I saw before, when I was foraging.”
Indeed, it was Loco-in-the-Coco, and he was accompanied by other Monsters that he had found or created during the intervening time.
The Monsters dispersed, with some of them wandering toward the small group. The ponies tried to escape, but the ground was slippery, and they lost their footing. They slid upward, to the top of a small outcrop of soft, slimy, yellow glass, while the Monsters seemed to have no difficulty surrounding them.
The ponies cowered, sensing their luck had run out. However, attack did not come. Brisk Bronco said, “Look at the monsters!”
The other ponies looked. The monsters were staring upward.
“Look at the sky!”
A great rainbow had arced upward from some origin point over the horizon, and its colors rippled across the sky. The frosted glass was cracking, breaking, curling aside while the rainbow faded.
“The blue! The blue sky of old times!”
A terribly bright light burnt down, seared their eyes. The rays warmed their naked backs.
“The sun," they said in awed voices. “The sun has come back to Earth.”
The shrouded sky was gone; the sun rode proud and bright in a sea of blue. The ground below churned, cracked, heaved, solidified. They felt the obsidian harden under their hooves; its color shifted to glossy black.
“This is Old Earth,” cried Brisk. “We are the Ponies of Old Earth! The land is once again ours!”
Jimbo asked, “And what about the Monsters?”
“If this is the Earth of old, then let the Monsters beware!”
Confused, the monsters retreated to the shoreline. Loco-in-the-Coco cried to his comrades, “Here is my intuition! It is exactly as I knew. The freedom is gone; the tightness, the constriction are back!”
“How will we defeat it?” asked Screwball.
“Easily,” said Bedlam. “Each must fight a part of the battle. I plan to hurl myself at the sun, and blot it from existence.” And he crouched, threw himself into the air. He fell on his back and broke his neck.
“The fault,” said Loco, “is in the air; because the air surrounds all things.”
Six Monsters ran off in search of air, and stumbling into the sea, drowned.
“In any event,” said Loco, “I am hungry.” He looked around for suitable food. He seized an insect, which stung him. He dropped it. “My hunger remains.”
He spied Brisk Bronco and the other ponies descending from the hill. “I will eat one of the ponies,” he said. “Come, let us all eat!”
Three of them started off—as usual, in random directions. By chance Loco came face to face with Brisk. He prepared to eat, but Brisk whirled on his hooves and gave a forceful buck with both hind legs. Loco died with a crushed skull. One of the other Monsters attempted to step across a crevasse six meters wide and was engulfed; the other sat down, swallowed rocks to assuage his hunger, and presently went into convulsions.
Brisk Bronco led the other Ponies up the hill again, and then he sat, and with a hoof he pointed here and there around the fresh new land. “In that quarter, the new city, like that of the legends. Over here the farms, the orchards.”
“We have none of these,” protested Sweet Leaf.
“No,” said Brisk. “Not now. But once more the sun rises and sets, once more rock has weight and the air has none. Once more water falls as rain and flows to the sea.” He stepped over a fallen Monster. “Let us make plans!”