Gallows
Stretching far beyond the limits of imagination, the desert winds blew with a baritone of harsh judgement. For every metre of rock jutting from the surface, a thousand miles of sand and pain flourished, bringing with it the songs of misery.
Neighbouring these lands was beauty in form; a lustrous green field with coloured flowers and a calm breeze. White fluffy clouds drifted lazily overhead, releasing a faint patter of vapour upon the buds and roses; too heavy not to be felt, but too light to be an annoyance. If anything, it was relaxing.
These two differing lands were separated, yet intertwined. A dead, shallow scar sat between the brilliant flowers and the burning plains, amalgamating soil and sand in a conurbation of peace and discord.
Upon the green fields, thousands of ponies walked blissfully, aimlessly throughout their domain. Unicorns, pegasi, earth ponies- all glowing in a mysterious white luminance, completely at peace with the rest of the world.
They chatted. They conversed. They shared and they loved. Their voices were soft and soothing, blessing all ears they reached, becoming one as their minds crafted genius.
Their chorus was heavenly, and all were ignorant to the scar and what waited beyond.
Except for one pony…
A single unicorn approached the scar, with little more than genuine curiosity, and his gaze was carried up to the level of eyes.
Across from him, slumped on the borders of the barren desert, there were two ponies. But they weren’t ponies. They were changelings, brandishing dirty, bright red shells. Their eyes glowed viciously from their perch, a golden yellow filled with malice and hate.
It was a strange sight to the unicorn. Another land was beyond their cornucopia, a land possibly of mystery and wonder, which held secrets. Beneath the bland, dry desert possibly lay something more- an answer, maybe.
It was something the unicorn often pondered. Their existence was limited to an endless, open field of green. The rain never ceased, and the day never ended. Their heavenly purgatory served no purpose.
It was beautiful, but it possessed nothing.
Fascinated, the unicorn beckoned the changelings. Their terrifying eyes met his, and their voices were all but greetings and salutations. They were snarls; vicious growls of disgust, and the unicorn stepped back.
Another pony met with the unicorn, this time a pegasus. She glanced ever questioningly between the unicorn and the changelings, meanwhile equally fascinated by the beckoning lands yonder.
The changelings continued their ensemble. The pegasus tried to pull the unicorn away, but his goal was set. Shrugging her off, he stepped forward, until the first hoof was on the scar. The changelings growled ever louder, but the unicorn took little notice. With another step, the growling escalated, and with a final hoof meeting the sand…
One of the changelings swiped, gnashing the lifted hoof of the unicorn and giving it a deep cut. The pegasus pulled him back to the fields, where a few other ponies had apparently been watching the small scuffle. The two gave no further looks at the changelings, in fear that they may be pleased about their self-triumph.
Overlooking, the gathered ponies glared at the offending vermin, as their white, glowing coats transcended into a dimmer, untrusting yellow.
___
The changelings watched the ponies, as they always did. There was nothing for them in the desert, nothing but nightmares and the looming threat of death. One of the changelings, with a trickle of unicorn blood lining its fang, observed much more intently.
The ponies, in a strange cluster of white and yellow, were acting differently. Indeed it had been a while since their little encounter with the insectoids, several days. They had changed, not just in colour, but also in mind.
They spoke of the changelings- those vicious creatures from beyond the borders of their carefree land. They spoke of the unicorn, whose blind attempt to cross to the unfair world ended with the inevitable mark of evil. Spilt blood and child’s tears, the light rain did nothing to cleanse.
They didn’t care, those bugs, those emotionless locusts. Their land was perfect without any ponies. They may not have a soothing rain showering their muzzles, but at least there were no ponies. They may have to tread on searing sand and not cool dirt, but at least they had peace and quiet. They may have been alone, but at least…
They were alone.
___
It had been so many weeks since the two factions had finally met. The changelings still stood their ground, sitting quietly by the scar, eyeing the ponies in case any others fancied a go at crossing to their turf.
As for the ponies, the yellow had turned a sickly orange over time, and their previously caring eyes were now departed orbs, filled with nothing but scorn for the creatures that wronged them.
The unicorn had kept his glow. His hoof had not yet healed, and still remained shrouded in liquid chaos. The pegasus remained with him, also sustaining her white beauty.
There was a distant sound in the desert. The changelings turned from the green fields toward their home. Their minds raced, as their eyes were met by a devouring sandstorm, firing toward them at colossal speed.
The changelings were overrun by fear. If there was one thing they knew about weather, it was that it did not ever traverse passed the border. The scar wasn’t a boundary for living essence; it was a boundary for all of nature.
Then it was clear. The changeling with the bloodied fang was hit with brilliance as its shell transformed from blood red to the same sickening orange as the ponies. If they crossed the scar, the sandstorm would only engulf the desert, and their lives would be spared.
And so they jumped, entering the turf of the ponies. The dirt upon their hooves was an experience, as both changelings, out of mind, relished in the soft feeling of grass. It was fascinating, so much greater than chafing sand.
But too soon were they celebrating, for the orange ponies had spotted them. Anger flooded their bodies as a whole, transforming them from their orange to hate filled, pain seeking, peace silencing red. As one they marched toward the intruders, like a great army advancing upon a pair of wild animals. They pushed the changelings back to the sand, back to the gravel they so deeply wanted to defend.
If the changelings wouldn’t allow pony migration, then the ponies would acknowledge in their own right.
Now the changelings quivered. The bloody-fanged changeling begged, pleaded for the ponies to reconsider, while the other thrashed at them, trying in vain to enter the land by force. But the ponies resented. These creatures had sinned, and were to be punished. And all the while, the storm grew ever closer.
The unicorn, in his glorious white, and the pegasus in hers, pushed through the crowd to find the source of the commotion. Upon reaching the front, they found the changelings, and the thing they feared in the distance.
The changeling with the bloodied fang, now engulfed in a dim yellow light, backed away as the unicorn it had injured emerged from the crowd before it. His hoof remained bloodied from their meeting, and the changeling knew then, that he would not be welcomed. This was where his life ended.
But the unicorn did something amazing. Defying everything the ponies were fighting for, he reached out to the changeling. He called for it, to enter the safety of the great plains it was being denied.
The changeling stared in disbelief, shell turning a bright, glowing white as it comprehended what it was seeing. It reached for the unicorn’s hoof, but was pulled back by its comrade, the red changeling.
The other ponies denied the unicorn’s offer, as they did the changelings’ entry. And the red changeling refused their hospitality, despite what it meant in the face of life and death.
But the white changeling didn’t care about life anymore. Life in the desert was torturous, and spending a lifetime watching the ponies in envy through empty walls…
This wasn’t about surviving anymore. This was about making amends.
The white changeling grabbed the unicorn’s hoof. It was pulled in, becoming engulfed in an embrace with the unicorn it hurt. The pegasus joined them, in an effort to keep the red ponies from casting it out again.
The storm grew deathly close, drowning out the shouts from the red ponies. The unicorn held out his hoof once more, reaching for the second changeling to join, to be saved.
The red changeling took no notice, staring not hatefully at its once comrade, but mournfully. It stood at the border, unmoving, awaiting its fate. The red ponies backed away from the scar, remaining distant from the storm.
The storm, in the blink of an eye, engulfed the red changeling in its jaws. The creatures shell appeared to crumble and dissipate within the whirling sand, becoming one with the onslaught of destruction, and ceasing to be all at once.
And it continued, the storm, racing past the border that should have been its end. The unicorn, the pegasus and the white changeling closed in to each other, caught off guard by the unexpected tangent. It passed over the red ponies as well, as every last one of them suffered like the red changeling; disappearing into nothingness.
The unicorn, the pegasus and the white changeling huddled ever closer, expecting that they themselves would cease to be. But it never came. The sand passed over them harmlessly, like the rain of the fields that were once undisturbed. The three felt the winds slow to a crawl, and as the final remnants of the storm settled, they opened their eyes.
There was nothing to be said of the plains. They had vanished beneath a thicket of infinite sand. Gone were the flowers, gone was the soil, but the rain still fell.
The pegasus and the changeling remained huddled for some time, in quiet applause of their survival. The unicorn separated for a moment, and with a warmest of smiles, personally hugged the changeling in a warm embrace.
The once injured hoof had now healed, returning to its former brilliance.
The pegasus chimed from a distance, ushering the duo from where they sat toward where the scar once existed. The desert had vanished…
And in its place was the hidden secret. A gorge opened where the sand once filled, revealing a bustling white city.
From what they could now only call a mountaintop, the three united looked upon their new home.
They would share it.
They would cherish it.
They would never keep it from anypony else.