S.B.

by Unwhole Hole

Chapter 1: A Mysterious Stranger Arrives in Ponyville

The moon had been waning and had become quite thin. What little light it produced was partially hidden by a number of high, translucent clouds that swam quickly through the sky over Ponyville, moving silently in the high wind toward some unseen and unknown goal. At this hour, most if not all ponies were asleep in their warm beds, surrounded by their loved ones and protected from the hostile darkness that lurked outside.

It was from this darkness that a figure emerged, standing on the far edge of the Everfree Forest. He paused for a moment, his eyes roving as he took account of the land before him. Then, in total silence, he pushed forward into the fields of tall grass that bordered the town before him. A light breeze blew through the grass, causing it to undulate in the dim moonlight like a silver sea, hissing quietly and interrupted only by the flattened trail behind the figure who moved effortlessly through it.

The Everfree Forest was a dangerous place, and in recent times a set of spells had been assembled with the intention of keeping evil of various types out, or at least alerting the town when it tried to enter. This figure, though, did not pause or even hesitate. His body cut through the spells without slowing or without setting off even the slightest alarm.

In time, he passed into the town, finding it utterly deserted. No pony was on the streets, and no window was lit. Only the dim glow of the moon illuminated the street. It was barely enough for a pony to see, but because of this figure’s unique eyes it was as bright to him as day. He was, in fact, quite glad that he was alone.

Had another pony been walking through the street, perhaps awakened by some noise or a strange feeling of dread, they likely would not have seen him anyway. His coat was a deep jet black, save for the streaks of crimson that ran through it at various points. He stayed toward the shadows where he felt at home, but a pony might still have caught his strange silhouette: that of a pony, yes, but adorned with a pair of leathery, bat-like wings. Perhaps they might even have seen his horns: one a bony spiral emerging from his forehead, and the other a pair of demonic bovinisque projections from beneath his black and red mane.

This strange pony continued to move through the town for a moment longer, before pausing in an open area that seemed to serve as a rustic plaza. He lingered for a moment, examining a large statue of some unnamed earth-pony that seemed to stare blankly in all directions at once. The pony sniffed the air, trying to decide which direction he needed to proceed toward his goal.

That was when the world suddenly illuminated brighter than he had ever thought possible. His pupils immediately narrowed into vertical slits as a lightning bolt landed barely a few feet from him. The blast of light illuminated him plainly: a tiny red-and-black colt, not even ten years old.

He cried out immediately in pure terror and tried to run so hard that he fell over into the dirt.

“Please no give hurting!” he squealed, trying to flee from the lightning. Having been dazzled by the blast, though, he ran headlong into a wall before sprinting off down the street, crying in mortal fright.

The head of a weather-pony looked down from over one of the pair low-hanging thunderclouds, looking down with a very confused expression and just barely catching a glimpse of a red-tinged tail rounding a corner.

“Darn it, Flitter!” she said, turning to her sister on the neighboring cloud. “You almost hit a kid! Again!”

“So?” said Flitter, defensively. “Getting struck by lightning builds character!”

“Seriously? It’s Celestia-darned lightning! I’m pretty sure that’s bad for kids!”

“No it isn’t! Scootaloo survived it! Twice!” Flitter paused. “Although…that might explain why she can’t fly…hmm…I probably shouldn’t tell Rainbow Dash about that one…”

Cloudchaser put her hoof over her head. “Just please, PLEASE try not to electrocute children! If you do, working the night-shift will be the LEAST of our problems! There’ll be…” Cloudchaser shuddered. “…paperwork.”

A light suddenly ignited in one of the nearby houses and the shutters flew open. A rather sleepy looking eggshell-colored earth-pony stuck her head out of the window.

“What in the name of Luna’s moony BUTT is going on out here?” She looked up bleary-eyed at Flitter and Cloudchaser. “Are those stormclouds?! Are you seriously doing lightning field testes at NIGHT? I’m trying to sleep!”

“It builds character!” shouted Flitter.

From inside the building, Lyra suddenly appeared, standing next to Bon Bon and looking so dazed that she was nearly derping. “Bon Bon?” She muttered. “Is my hat…the elephant is in the spice-rack again…I can’t find my carpet…”

“Great!” cried Bon Bon. “You woke up Lyra! Do you have any idea how long it’s going to take me to get her to go back to sleep?”

“It’s not our problem if you can’t tolerate the sound of night lightning!” retorted Cloudchaser. She paused for a moment. “Nightning!” She looked to Flitter, and Flitter shook her head, indicating that ‘nightning’ was not a word.

The arguing continued, growing more intense as time went on and as Lyra repeatedly attempted to “buy more fencposts” by stepping out onto Bon Bon’s roof. By this time, though, the little red-and-black colt had run a substantial distance. Still terrified, he careened into an alleyway, knocking over several trashcans as he went before he eventually tripped and fell into the mud.

He looked behind him, panicked, wondering if they had followed him with their terrifying lightning. He hated the lightning. It usually hurt quite intensely. He had been lucky that their first bolt had missed.

Still frightened, he crawled into one of the overturned garbage cans. It smelled terrible, but not much worse than he did after spending many nights this way before he had been forced to cross the Everfree Forest in search of his destination. He had grown accustomed to sleeping in garbage, and had come to realize his kindship to it.

Shaking, he nestled himself amongst rotten fruit rinds and old coffee filters in the back of the can and curled up, crying himself to sleep.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it! I- -I didn’t mean to be a bad pony!”

This was the last thing he said before he drifted off into restless trash-sleep.
 

Comments

[FloydienSlip]

Oh no. This is going to end horribly.