> Desolation > by Writer12577 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Desolation > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Carrot Top slowly walked towards the small uphill in front of her. The darkness of the night would have made it a hard task any other day, but now the glow caused by the events happening behind her illuminated the path enough for her to see where she was going. She kept the same peaceful pace, the same emotionless look on her face and took the first step of the long rise. The uphill was known to be the longest and steepest in Ponyville and its surroundings, and therefore the hill it led to was the highest spot there was nearby, the optimal spot for her to stand on and look at the events happening behind her. The events she had caused. Well, not completely, but she had been a part of it. The rest had been done by the ignorant fools known as the citizens of Ponyville, the fools that had called themselves her friends before she had started the events, the traitors that had tried to kill her just because she was different in a different way. An earth pony is not supposed to have magic. Not that powerful, at least. Some do have their fair share of it, but they are unable to use it because either they are unaware of it or do not have the mental capacity to understand the basics of it, let alone utilizing it in advanced ways. If she remembered correctly, there was this one crazy mare who could use them, but even she didn’t understand that she was actually using them and called them something like her special senses or so. And for that, for the little trick Carrot Top was able to do naturally by the powers granted to her when she was born, a trick that every well-educated unicorn would be able to do if he or she would just bother studying the simpler magic, for that trick they had attacked her, calling her names, demanding for justice, her friends in the front line, bloodlust clearly visible in their eyes. They had called her a witch. They had called her a freak. They had destroyed her house. They had ruined her garden. They had burnt her home and the surroundings of it down. All of this because she had made her carrots grow in the dead land. All of this because she was able to use her special earth pony magic along with her special talent. She had fled. She had lived in the outskirts of the town. All the time, for the whole six months, she had planned. She had plotted her revenge. She had formed the perfect plan. She would get her revenge. The ponies, the ones who had lived in the same town with her, the ones who she had called friends, they were going to pay for their actions. The uphill was getting steeper. That meant that she was getting closer to the top. The glow was getting weaker and weaker, making the path even harder to travel, but that didn’t matter. She wouldn’t fall. She wanted to see the town face its destiny. She wanted to see the ponies panic, she wanted to hear them scream, she wanted to see the havoc, she wanted to enjoy her revenge. Six months in the outskirts, living on what she found from the fields. Sometimes she ate a couple of apples that had been left on the road by that hick who had been in the front line with her dog and her fork. Sometimes she ate the plants and wheat that grew naturally around the town. Sometimes she ate nothing, as she couldn’t find a thing that would go down her throat. Those times had been hard. Those times had been the kind of times that change a pony radically. Whole six months of living alone, six months with no interaction with other intelligent beings, six months without being able to read, write or do anything cultural, anything she loved. But the sight that was awaiting her was going to be worth it. All the rotten apples that had given her stomach aches, all the dry and tasteless hay, all the weeks filled with starvation, all the long nights full of despair, all the weeks of depression and self-destructive thoughts, all the time without having the possibility to have a civilized and sensible chat, they would be compensated. All of a sudden the uphill ended. As soon as it did, Carrot Top stopped dead on her tracks. She looked forward for a while, thinking of all the things she had gone through, took a deep breath, and turned around to face the town of Ponyville. The flames were devouring the hay-roofed buildings fast. Many of them were already missing their roof and the fire was starting to take down the walls. The whole town was already on fire, which was a bit of a surprise, as Carrot Top had only lit two of the buildings on fire. Ponies were running around, panicking, of course, some screaming of terror, some of pain as the fire was feeding on their fur and flesh. Some of the screams came from complete strangers. Some of the screams were a bit more familiar and Carrot Top could throw a few guesses who it had been. Some of the screams were so familiar that she recognized the source of the voice immediately and could tell that one of her so-called friends would not be hating ponies any more. And for hours the same kept on, four hours she watched, listened and enjoyed the sight of the town burning down to ashes, the ponies desperately trying to put it out, the buildings collapsing on the ones who were trying their best to put out the fire or to rescue ponies that were stuck inside, the ponies slowly getting devoured alive by the fire, the scenery in front of her turning black when the fire kept on doing its job. And when the screams ended, when the crackling of the fire finally stopped, when nothing stood higher than the piles of debris and ashes, when she couldn’t see a living thing anymore, she turned away from the sight and started walking down the path that had been a tough uphill to her some hours ago. Now it was an easy downhill, leading to a whole new life, a life free of hate, a life where she would be free to be herself, a life where nopony would, or could, judge her. The only one capable of judging her was herself. As she arrived at the base of the hill, as she saw the ruined town from close proximity, as she could smell the glorious smell of burnt wood and charred corpses, all she could do was smile.