If someone ever told you that farm work was hard, you never tried. And as William Fields got out of his tractor, he too felt it. His son, Albert hunched over and panted. Wet spots of sweat on his shirt and his dark brown hair clamped to his skull. Today was a warm day, even for late September. William stood next to him, breathing heavily as they looked to the fields they yet had to work on. On the fields next to them was a recently plowed potato field and, judging by Albert’s mudded hands, was their recent accomplishment.
“You did good, son. Nice work.” He said and patted Albert on the shoulder, eliciting a pained groan. “We’ll work the cornfield later. Take a breather.” Upon looking at his son, however, he chuckled.
Albert moaned in exhaust in the mere thought. His muscles ached, his fingers burned and his legs barely held him up. He looked around. So much had been done since they started Monday. Being Thursday, he felt like falling asleep just thinking about the 100 or more things they had to do by the end of the month.
“Can’t believe Ben managed to do this day in and day out with you, while having an injury. I can’t feel my fingers.” Albert said after straightening, his back popping as he did.
Will’s smile faded when he thought about it. Ben never complained. Even when he worked close to keeling over. The farm was his life. Helping his family was his passion. He missed Ben’s attitude. His spark and dedication. He felt a twinge of pain in his heart when he realized that it’s been more than a year since Ben’s death. He let out a melancholy sigh at the thought and brought an arm around Albert’s shoulder.
He looked towards the house as if expecting to see Ben descend the stairs with his bottle of water by his belt. A bit of a signature was that Ben never got to work without his green silicone bottle. A gift from Lucy when Ben turned 16 and started riding his bike to school instead of his scooter. Whenever he asked he said: “Now I have a reason to stay healthier.” Followed by a laugh.
He smiled at the memory and Albert felt the nostalgia. A flash of green fire appeared at the end of the doorstep and left something on the ground. His eyebrows lifted in confusion and slowly started towards the house, Albert limping after if his shuffling in the dirt path was any indication.
When he stopped at the end of the stairs and looked on the ground. Just looked… then raised an eye-brow. On the ground was a scroll. Wrapped in a purple ribbon and with a red seal. He picked it up and eyed it.
“The hell is that?” Albert asked once he stood next to his dad.
Will twirled it in his hand.
“Looks like a scroll. Question is: Where did it come from?” He returned the question.
He removed the ribbon with a smirk. The smirk died when he unfurled the scroll. The pictures on the scroll turned him pale and weak. His breathing picked up as his hand covered his mouth.
“Is that Ben?” Albert asked in disbelief.
“Oh, my God! Oh, my God!” He repeated, tears now visible and a smile creeping its way to him. “Beth? BETH! GET OUT HERE!”
From inside the house Albert could hear a female groan and footsteps. Not three second after the door opened, revealing a young teen girl with black hair tied in a pony-tail. She looked annoyed.
“What? Dinner’s almost ready, what’s the hurry?” she asked, huffing but softening at her father’s teary eyes.
“Come, come! Look, look, look!” He excitedly waved his hand.
As she did she gasped and her eyes opened wide. The picture indeed had Ben, smiling wide and true. What seemed odd was the creatures on them; ponies. But stranger. They had big intelligent eyes, sentient smiles and, judging by the smile adorning Ben, they seemed to actually care for him.
Will read the scroll that indeed had Ben’s handwriting.
Dear family. If you’re reading this then Celestia managed to get the letter through. I know I’ve been gone for about a year but I’m far from dead. Still have my heart-injury but I fare better here than where you are. I know you have questions on where I am and what happened so I’m going to explain no matter how ridiculous it sounds:
The thunderstorm that happened a year ago was the result of a God named Discord and as his namesake suggest; He’s the God of Chaos and his power leaked into our world until he was stopped by the ponies (yes they are, honest to God, ponies) you see on the picture bellow (Sadly, Twilight didn’t have a longer scroll so I take it in the next letter). They are also the ones who take care of me. The one on the picture took me in and let me live with them while staying here. Let me introduce you to them:
Their gazes shifted to the ponies on his either sides. On his left was a big red stallion with dark blond mane and tail. His green eyes showed cheer and judging by how his hoof was draped over a kneeling Ben and the sheer smile on his muzzle he was very fond of Ben.
The next was a filly perched on Ben’s shoulder. Her red mane and pale olive coat clearly visible on Ben’s dark hair. But most noticeable was her pink bow. Her smile almost split her face when her hooves were placed on Ben’s head showed her affection, evident in her amber eyes.
Probably the most noticeable was the smiling green eyed mare on his right. Her fore-and back legs crossed she gave the camera a smirk, Ben’s left arm draped over her. The tan coat and blond hair tied she seemed to radiate a warmth. What made her stand out was the Stetson on her head.
The final pony on the picture was an elder green mare with greyed mane and tail tied in a bun. Despite her old appearance she gave a motherly smile.
What William noticed was how Ben gave the camera a very toothy grin. A grin he hasn’t seen since Lucy before Lucy’s death. When Ben was happy.
On the picture you see Big Macintosh, Apple Bloom, Applejack and Granny Smith. Big Macintosh or just Big Mac is the oldest of the siblings. He’s very calm but also very quiet. Kinda reminds me of you, Albert, just more for working. He and I, more often than not, tend to work together. While not going along at first he soon warmed up to me. And actually treated me as family. The filly on top of me is the youngest, named Apple Bloom. She’s still in grade school but she’s a big help on the farm I’m working for. Though the last to trust me she and I get along more than the others, funny enough. She reminds me of you, Elizabeth.
The mare with the Stetson kinda sticks out like a sore thumb. She was the one who welcomed me to this farm and we get along just fine… at times. Turns out we’re both the same; Stubborn, hard-headed and too proud to admit to fault. But she’s one of the kindest and hardworking ponies I’ve met and, judging by the town I now live in, that says a lot. Her hat was not a gift from her family; it was funny enough won in a contest. The last one is the grandmother of this family; simply named Granny Smith. She’s the kindest elder I have ever met (Please don’t tell Grandpa Arnold I said that) and have done everything she could to make me comfortable here. Don’t ask me how old she is because these ponies live WAY longer than normal.
I have a lot more to write but I’ll save that for the next letter. As for how to come back… Princess Celestia and Princess Luna are working with a portal to send me back to you… unfortunately; it’s going to take 30 years to fully open the portal back to you. But I will be able to send letters to you on how I’m doing. Still love you all. And Dad… sorry for what I said. I was angry but I went too far.
Will stared at the letter with tears in his eyes but a big smile on his face. Next to him, Elizabeth did the same. Albert let out a sigh of relief on knowing that Ben was alive and well.
“He’s alive.” Will said, looking up at the clear sky. “My boy is still alive.”
There was no feeling in the world that could describe the happiness he was feeling right now. Lucy leaned onto Albert with tears in her eyes but a smile. Albert, suddenly feeling more tired than before sighed but noticed something by the end of the scroll.
“Look.” He said; pointing with a shaky hand on the last paragraph on the scroll.
Will was snapped out of his relief on a small but oddly shaky writing at the end. As if it was written with heavy sadness
And if you see Madeleine, tell her I…