It's getting darker by the minute and colder by the second. The sunset that I had memorized when I was young seemed most alien in the blood amarillo sun that I faced. There was a time when majestic blues would shine across the horizon, illuminating the distant mountaintops that were, more often than not, topped with snow throughout the year. Father had always said he would take us to the mountains to hunt while we were older, but he hadn't lived long enough to fulfill that promise.
Neither had my brother, neither had... I can't think about that right now. It's taking all the strength I can to walk. It feels as if I'm climbing a mountain, but I know it's just a steep hill where my home rests.
Had rested. Past tense now.
Averting my eyes from the burning sun, I concentrate on my feet, willing my legs to take another step. The sound of scraping gravel is almost deafening as it breaks the realative silence around me. Seems almost a sin to break the peace, but I can't just lay down and die just yet. Not with my once home in sight.
Brother and I used to race up this hill, see who was the fastest. Aaron only ever won because I let him. The winner got the honor of falling over and rolling back down the hill where the trick was stopping before rolling into the rocks at the bottom. Never a nice sensation to roll from soft, crisp, grass into painful and hard gravel below. Didn't matter how many times father forced me to cut. It was the best playground we could have asked for.
The grass was green then as well. What I stepped on now was brown, black, and crumbled under my feet into chaff. I fell, burying my face into the dirt, finding the smell to be of ash and death. Nothing new, but it still hit hard to realize that this was once something very sacred to my memores. It was through labored breath and fatigued pain that I hoped to see this again.
But what did I expect? A magic utopia that survived the fires? The poisons? Nothing survived. Not even me. I just don't want to end alone. Just for a moment, I want something to be with me. Just a smile- no. Just a voice, just something besides the sound of my own unsteady breathing that is assaulting my ear. I just need to get to the top of this hill.
God, it just hurts to breathe. Why does it have to hurt so much? Just wish I could tell my brain to stop registering the pain and to leave a message. But I'm almost there. Almost-
There. Rubble, charcoal, brick. Whatever remained of my once home is now in cinders around the ground. No roof or frame, just debris around a square area. Expecting the worse, I continued on to try and find the one thing that I left there so long ago. Going off memories, I could just make out where the stairwell had been. Above that should have been the hallway, then a little past the hallway was...
There.
I'm surprise to find my old wooden closet still largely intact, well, compared to everything else around it. What was left of my bed was a soiled mess of fabric so stiff that it broke into pieces the moment I stepped on it on my way to inspect the aged wood.
The smell of rot assaults my nose as I crouch next to the closet. i can see the scorch marks running across the mass of it's overturned back. It's in worse shape than I had thought before. Placing my left hand under the rim, I try flipping the closet on it's side, trying my best to ignore the pain under my ribs and the splinters digging into my skin. The wood buckles and folds as I tro to lift, and it was as if the closet itself decided this was an appropriate end. The wood buckled, and easily fell in pieces away from me. How this junk was able to survive intact for this long is a mystery which I wouldn't live long enough to survive.
But I found it.
Among the dirt and rock, I can just barely make out a black corner sticking out. Knowing that time was short, and the sun would be setting soon, I clawed at the dirt around the corner, finding more and more of the black box that had been buried under the rotten wood. The rocks chew at my hands, but I finally found purchase under the box. Lifting it up, I see it being largely intact. Though covered in dirt and rusted in some areas of exposed metal, it looked exactly like it did the day I left it here.
Twisting the end to face me, I blow on the plaque above the lock. "Firesafe". An appropriate name for a little black box meant to be fireproof and able to resist the elements. I bush my hand over the keyhole, removing the protective cover and excess dirt to find pure metal underneath.
And I can't stop staring at it. Can't seem to bring myself from holding the safe close to my chest. It's heavy, and makes it harder to breathe, but I can't find myself able to move beyond gripping the metal edges. I start to realize, this is the only proof of when things were better. When dust didn't choke the air, nor fire raze the fields. When Aaron and I held onto this little secret, and kept it to ourselves and made sure to tell no one. Our secret and our little fantasy.
Was it real? Did we just make it up among ourselves? I reach a hand into what remains of my leather overcoat, gripping my hand around a small but heavy metal object. This was real. The key we found to fit this old safe, and the two objects we left inside. I remember making a promise with Aaron that we would both come back. Come back to our home and make believe...
My arms feel week. I can't hold up the safe any longer. I lower it upon the ruins and brush off what dirt remained, grimacing at the blood that's smeared. I see the shadows grow darker and curse myself for taking too long. The sun will be setting any seconds, and I won't be able to see.
For the final time, I reach in and grasp the key, gripping so hard that the metal cuts ino my skin, but I don't want to risk even the slightest chance of dropping it. I can see the shadows darken as the world becomes darker. Going more by feel than by sight, I place the key into the hole and hear a satisfying click as it slides into place. The key turns easy. Easy as the day I first found it and discovered it's power.
It's dark. So dark that I cannot even see the handle and have to continue to feel around for it. I try to pull, but I'm just so... tired.
In the darkness, I hear scraping. I can hear... voices.
Aaron?
Aaron... is that...?
"Now, calm down."
"How can I calm down! The last time it got real dark for no reason, Equestria was almost smothered in eternal darkness! Why should I keep calm?"
"Look here. There's light over in that corner there, just a little. You magic must have just sent us into a box or something."
"But I didn't cast it on purpose! Also, that's not how teleportation works! You need a clear image of where you want to be. I can assure you, this is the last place that I would ever want to be."
"Just no use gettin' uppity over something we haven't figured out yet. Here, I think this is a door. It's budgin' a little, and I can feel a breeze through the crack."
"..."
"Umph! Gah!"
"What's wrong?"
"It's a bit hard to push. Would you mind giving me some help?"
"Alright. Alright. On the count of three, push."
"How bout we just push now and get this over with?"
"Okay. Now!"
The sliver of light grew larger by the second as the two voices pushed ever harder against the door in front of them. The door was resistant to their force, but little by little they made progress. Light flooded the room, blinding but also illuminating the two figures inside. A purple four legged beast with inteligent eyes steps out, shielding her eyes from the sun with a hoof. She is followed by an orange one who simply lowers a large leather stetson.
"Twilight, what do you see?" the orange one asks while rubbing her eyes."
"Give me a moment, Applejack. I didn't expect to get an eye full of sun coming out of that thing. Was it this late before my magic went haywire?"
"Last I remember, it was mid afternoon. Looks like we lost about six hours or so."
"That can't be right. Teleportation magic only effects space, not-" Twilight's eyes go wide as she turns to face her friend. Applejack, seeing Twilight's distress, turns a curious eye behind her.
The room they were in was a black box nearly the size of a small house. They had managed to only open the front hatch only a small crack, and even that surprised her by how bulky the whole thing looked. Metal from bottom to top, it seemed like this thing could weather a storm that even the strongest of Pegasi stormsmiths could create. But what has Twilight looking so...
A drop from above, crimson red, falls from the tree that is propped against the hatch. Falling with an audible splash only a few yards away from them. Applejack stepped closer to the newly formed puddle, dipping her hoof into the liquid. She brought her hoof up and gave a sniff. Horror and confusion clouds her face as she hurriedly rubs the liquid off in the dirt while quickly back stepping away from the puddle.
The smell is overwhelming of iron rust.
Applejack now understood Twilight's reaction. What she had believed to be a tree is actually a large... something, made of flesh. And it's hurt.
Applejack gives one last kick into the dirt before taking in a deep breath to regain her composure., but that wasn't going to happen anytime soon while adrenaline was still coursing through her body. Thinking it best to take advantage of the moment, she turns to Twilight, her friend, to see her eyes still transfixed on the mass above the both of them.
"Twi. Twilight snap out of it!" Applejack shouts, clopping her hooves together.
Twilight's eyes move from the above appendage and focus on her friend, but it still seems to take a moment before alertness is regained in her eyes.
"That... it... It's an arm, AJ."
The sky is becoming darker by the moment, and Applejack found it hard to be able to distinguish much among the shadows of the bleeding tree above her. All she could make out was a long black limb that seemed to have grown around a small handle next to the latch. Far too dark to make out any of the details, and waiting till morning doesn't seem like a good option.
"Twilight. Could you give us a little light?"
Twilight spoke in nearly a whisper. "AJ I... I don't think I want to see what's over there."
"Please, sugarcube. I think it's best we find out where we are so we can find a way back home before it gets dark."
Applejack tries to find an expression on Twilight's face, but finds her face far too dark to make out anything. After several moments, Twilight lets out a loud sigh before standing standing back up on four hooves.
"Okay. Close your eyes a second, it's going to be bright."
Closing her eyes in concentrations, Twilight lowers her head and horn towards the bleeding tree. Light erupts from the base of the horn before traveling to the tip where it flares in a blindingly bright whiteness. A bulb of withe seems to hover at the tip before being launched forward like a magical flare, illuminating the entire area.
Applejack had lowered her stetson to shield her eyes, but wished she had kept the hat low to avoid what is now a brightly lit and bleeding arm attached to an even larger mass. A body.
What they had both assumed to be a hill or some sort of wall was a giant whose outstreched arm had a hand that is clasped around the latch in front of the box. The blood was coming from broken and torn fingertips and knuckles that were wrapped around the same latch in what was now to be described as a death grip.
A face belonged to the giant, and Applejack found herself drawing closer out of morbid curiosity to see. She can see the pale skin that held a strong contrast to the dirt that lightly covered every inch of it. His; for it was obvious his features are masculine, eyes were closed in such a way that one could mistake him for sleeping, but he obviously did not draw breath. Applejack stands only inches away, lifting a hoof to the closed eye of the beast. Lifting the lid, seeing the dead eyes that once shined blue.
"No..."
Twilight, who had been immobile before, was now standing next to Applejack, looking for herself at the giant, the human, in front of her.
"Applejack, it's... I think it's John."
Applejack moved the eyelid down, closing off the man's sight for the final time.
"But I thought... we... It has been so long. Seemed like just a dream." Applejack took a step back, never keeping her eyes off the face of the dead man.
"He was alot younger then. Applejack, you know what this means, right?"
Applejack looked to her friend as Twilight put a hoof on her shoulder.
"We're in his world. This was his room. look around."
Applejack did so, and what she could see reminded her of the many times her of the old farmhouses that dots some of the abandoned areas of her orchard. Rotting, blackened wood and the putrid remains of blankets or anything that dared retain water. All that remains is fallen lumber that's strewn about a small area where a house once stood.
"What happened here, Twilight?"
"I don't know, I just have a real bad feeling about this place," Twilight's voice had a tinge of worry behind it. "I think we should get back home as soon as possible."
Applejack agreed with Twilight, but she didn't feel right about leaving just yet.
"I need to find out what happened to him. Can't just leave him like this without first knowin'."
Twilight knew better than to try and convince Applejack otherwise, but that didn't stop her from trying.
"AJ, please. This place doesn't smell right. Not to mention the others must be worried about Don't you think you need to get back to your family as soon as possible?"
Twilight continued to give every reason she could to leave this place, trying her best to appeal to Applejack's sense of responsibility. This place didn't feel right. Wanting to leave as soon as possible, doing whatever she could not to think about the dead in front of her.
Applejack continued unabated, walking beside John's still torso, searching around his jacket for any sort of explanation of why he was here, why he died,
And why he broke the promise.
Applejack found herself following a stain that was still wet and running to the ground. She sees his hand which is pinned under his body, and stained with blood that currently pooled on the ground around him. It becomes obvious to Applejack that the wound would have bled profusely if not treated with care. Judging by the haphazard way the soaked cloth was strewn about his hand, John had not been able to stop the bleeding himself.
Under the jacket, Applejack caught some white among the red blood and brown clothing.
Twilight shifts her hooves under herself impatiently. She constantly tests the air, but finds her senses muddled by the smell of rotten wood, putrid cloth, and the beginning rank of a decomposing body. Twilight can't help but think about John's state before death. For him to start the process this quickly after death means he would have been very unclean and possibly contracted a few fungal infections, not to mention the acceleration caused by the open wound and...
He was dying. He was dying before he opened the box again. The realization causing Twilight's hoof to cover her mouth as her breath caught in her throat.
Applejack digs her hoofs hard into the ground, pulling the paper from the inner folds of John's jacket while inadvertently dragging it through some of the blood staining the ground around him. Applejack sees a light purple aura creeping along the paper as Twilight moved to assist her friend in pulling the awkward document from the darkened folds into the light of Twilight's flare.
Folding back with ease, Applejack began unfolding and creasing the seams as she went while Twilight mindlessly held the edges down with many of the stones she could find around her hooves.
Applejack stands next to her friend, trying to make sense of the semi-coherent writing. Marveling at the perfect typeface and spacing, Applejack couldn't help but wonder what machine could have lain the words so perfectly. Even the best typewriter she saw would have made at least a few mistakes.
Applejack saw the blood smearing the other side of the paper, feeling her mental reverie shatter with the stark reminder of her and her friend's situation.
"Think you can read any of this, Twi?"
Twilight narrows her eyes and looks closely at the paper, leaving small muddy hoofprints in the whiteness as she steps among the words.
"I... do remember learning how their language worked the second time we came. It's like ours, and has the same alphabet, but what changes is how the letters are written. Much easier to write in our language with a mouth than it is theirs."
"Twilight, I appreciate the lecture and all, but we're kinda in a bad place right now." Applejack says as she steps around the perimeter of the paper, half out of impatience, half just trying to wipe off the blood from her hooves. The dirt coats her hooves more than cleanses, but she takes heart in the fact she can no longer recognize the color nor the smell.
Twilight ignores Applejack and continues to study the paper. Applejack, in turn, studies her friend, though she cannot seem to read the pattern of expressions that come across Twilight's face. Concentration... confusion? Is she rereading the letter now? Applejack thinks it's best to leave Twilight to her work, but the farmpony cannot simply sit still and wait. Thinking it's best to look for their way out, she walks over to the box.
This thing had been the reason for them coming here, so many years ago. It was also the very thing that sent them back whenever John and his brother got tired of playing around, or after a headed tongue lashing from either Twilight or Applejack.
Applejack closes her eyes in concentration, trying to remember how it worked. Just shutting the door never seemed to be the trigger. No, it wasn't that. The door was shut when they had arrived. Took quite a bit of force to be able to open it just enough from the to squeeze out the crack.
Looking up, Applejack could see why. The arm was limply wedged against the door. A thought occurs to her, followed by a shiver at the realization. A few hours, maybe even a few minutes more, and the arm would have been so stiff that it would have taken a crowbar to pry open the fingers. Applejack doesn't allow herself to remember how she knew that.
No, it was the key they had used. An old key that looked like something Granny would have used back in her days as a filly. Old, heavy iron with a bunch of fancy letterin' on it. Aaron had let her take a close look at it when she'd asked, only after he made her promise not to try and leave without him and his brother knowin'.
She kept that promise, despite her intentions at the time. Couldn't be lettin' them think she didn't enjoy their company. Just that she always had other things to do, and didn't always appreciate being wisked back into another world that only reminded her of the time she got a little too close to that poisoned joke. Though she didn't mind it so much when they brought her out an apple pie that was half the size of what her barn would be.
Applejack taps her head with a hoof. "Concentrate, girl." she says aloud. "Y'all need to be looking for that key."
Applejack takes off her hat and bites down on something inside. A neatly coiled rope slithers out of the hat like a rising snake as she pulls. The rope is thin, but strong for it's size. Applejack never met a situation that couldn't be solved with a suitable length of rope. Even times she can remember having been solved differently, she would swear would have been easier had a rope been involved.
Applejack ties the end of the rope into a suitable honda knot, and then eyes the darkened mass above her that still lies just beyond the illumination. She gives the rope a toss in the air before grabbing the longer end with her tail and spinning it around her head, rapidly gaining momentum before letting the lasso fly. Applejack nearly let out a cry of triumph as she felt the rope snag, and gave a mighty pull with her hooves and teeth.
The triumph quickly sank into a new pit in her stomach as the arm fell. It has the mass of an old oak from the forest near her home, but the sound of an oak falling in the forest was like thunder. Wood splinters, branches snap, and it comes to a clattering halt to the ground. The arm fell, but hit the ground with a dull thud with a slight bounce, giving the illusion of life returning in the limb. The sound was sickeningly quiet.
Applejack ignores the churning in her gut and tries to make out the hole that the arm would have been covering. The sun had gone down completely, and the flickering purple of the magical flare only went so far in illuminating the box they came out of. Applejack squints, and can just make out a small protrusion in the dark and grey masses above her. Probably a half-full moon today, because the light doesn't seem to fade...
But moonlight isn't orange.
Forgetting her momentary goal, Applejack found herself curious as to why the night is so bright tonight. They can just make out the stars against a contrasting black sky, but the horizon is blocked by debris and John's body. She walks back past Twilight, who gave no indication of seeing Applejack, simply absorbed in trying to make sense of what she was reading.
Stepping around the rotten wood and crumbly dry white mess that must have been the walls of the house, Applejack makes her way around the worn boots that John had been wearing, and finds herself unable to move by what she sees. Applejack simply falls back onto her haunches and stares at the horizon before her.
Several minutes pass before she gathers up the strength the speak.
"Twilight?" Applejack realizes her voice is hoarse, and coughs to clear her throat, then speaks louder. "Twilight. You... you better come see this."
Applejack can hear the scraping and sliding of paper along with the sound of rocks clattering as they make way for moving hooves. A flash of purple moves from the edge of Johns feet, and finds iteself next to Applejack with an equally disturbed and surprised expression.
The sky was on fire.
Fire rages miles away from the hill which they sit on. The fires rage high into the sky and give off billows of smoke that are blacker than death. The fires span over the horizon, consuming and leaving very little to be recognized behind. The glow is so great that it's almost as if Celestia herself is raising the sun again, but this glow leaves a black sky to contrast the angry red that moves ever onward past the length of sight.
Despite the brightness of the fire, all the two can feel is the increased coldness the night brings, and the chilling wind that blows and threatens to freeze the two where they sit. Twilight, in her stupor and in her need of warmth, reaches out next to her and embraces Applejack. Applejack, in turn moves a hoof around her friend's neck. Neither of them say a word and they silently watch the spectacle that is a world on fire.