Disclaimer; I don't own My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic. It's Hasbro's brainchild, I'm just playing with it for the time being. However, I am willing to cease and desist if they command it. Now no lawyers can come crawling out after me.
Deep within the ruins of an ancient civilization, a single pony stood against a massive army of demons, each of which were heavily armed, some with multiple arms, some with weapons for their heads, all with an odd skin color. Multiple weapons protruded from the stallion's body, his blood flowing down in rivers as he tried to stand. His normally brown coat was stained a deep red, his mane running full of bloody streaks. He thought carefully about what had led up to this point and why he was in such a deplorable position. The demons surrounding him closed in, their beady black eyes squinting in the low light, their weapons glaring off of the low moonlight, closing in on the bleeding and heavily wounded unicorn.
Avery Whooves came home from another horrible and long summer day from work. His grey mane was disheveled with fatigue, his brown coat, glistening with beads of sweat, his 4 point star cutie mark, shining silver in the lamplight. He had to run back to his home because he couldn't afford to ride a pedicab back home. His apartment was quite messy with lots of debris scattered about. He set his saddlebags on the ground, taking a long sigh. He was exhausted from his efforts at his workplace especially his extra hours. He flopped onto his couch, instantly relaxing. He flicked on his TV, and a Daring Do movie popped on.
"How I envy her," he thought. "How she goes on brilliant adventures, and earns fame throughout the planet. The only ponies I know who even come close to such fame are the Elements of Harmony."
He got up from the couch and walked to the bathroom. Looking at the mirror, he reflected upon himself. He began to think about himself, attempting to understand his very soul. He hit the first wall.
"But who am I then?" he asked himself. "I'm simply an average stallion living in this city. This city of thousands, one among thousands. A single brick in a building, used as a tower for the superior to stand upon. In all honesty, I'm no greater than the ants that infest the ground, the worms that writhe in the rain. But, these thoughts of mine, are they like that foal's game? Jenga, was it? Will the single brick be missed, or will the system collapse?"
I think I should get some sleep for now, he thought. After all, he was exhausted. He could barely move. He would pursue this philosophy tomorrow.
The next day, he awoke from his slumber and left for work. He got his morning coffee, and ate a few donuts as he left for work. As he arrived in his workplace, he saw a butterfly. A butterfly, works for his food everyday, flies cumulative miles upon miles, never complains, and yet he is set so lowly. How odd. Perhaps this philosophy of mine is not so stupid after all. Perhaps I shall continue to pursue it. As he continued, and as night began to fall, he saw a light in the distance, How big it looks, but... isn't that light coming from the Statue? That's a few hundred miles from the shoreline itself. I'm miles from the shoreline. It would be impossible to reach that place from here without a vehicle. He'd drown before he got close even.
Speaking of which, doesn't it seem that way? Stars. The peoples of this world, they put their goals up high, in hopes of reaching them. But... What happens when they age? They leave their dreams and goals where they were, and pay them no mind. They live only for their job, shedding the traces of imagination and other things that they once possessed. The dreams are crushed under the brutal weight of the future, and the world slows down. The world is peaceful, but inefficient. Many children have the will to do what they wish, but feel they need to be older to do so. However, their dreams become crushed as soon as they grow old. They stand at the bottom, unimportant, unethical, unwanted. Only those who are destined to do so achieve their dreams. Can one truly fight off their fate? Or is it by will of God. Are we pulled by strings? Are we puppets to God's will, or can we bend our fate like the breeze bends the reeds.
He left his desk, walked into his boss's office and asked his boss if he could take a vacation. His reason? He wanted to visit his parents. His boss allowed him to do so, on account of filing the rest of the shipping reports in advance for the next week. In exchange, he would only have a week to visit his parents. This was not the perfect amount of time he wished for, but it would have to do. After all, inspiration is like opportunity. It is fleeting and waits for no one. What you get is what you have.
Still, he didn't argue, accepted the chance, and left his boss's office. He began to work at an extreme pace, finishing his reports in the brief hours remaining in his time frame. Sure they might not be perfect then, but at least they were relatively accurate. By the end of his shifts, he had earned his week-long excursion. He ran off to the bank and scraped together some bits.
"Now where should I start?" he questioned. Then he had it. His old home in Trottingham would do quite nicely. He ran off to the train station and bought a ticket to Trottingham.
His mind was abuzz with new thoughts and realizations. He jumped aboard the train, with his new realizations firmly in mind. I must get back my dreams. I must return to the time when I was still a foal. I'll achieve my dreams, and shoot down the stars, to light the way of my descendants. A step on the stairway to heaven. This time around... No holds barred! I'll do anything in my power to light the way! he thought.