Somewhere in a breezy farm in Idaho, a black stallion spends his time with his gathered friends, discussing the events of their days as usual. Many of them were wondering where in the blue blazes had Ambrose (one of them) went to.
"The last time I saw Ambrose, some human led him to a 'truck'," muttered some bony brown stallion. His face and back were dashed with streaks, and his eyes were swollen red. "Sort of a long box-like thing humans enter and control to carry things heavier than any of us, or all of us together, could carry."
"But I reckon he simply sped off into the forest," answered a third stallion. "Probably languishing in the dank shadows, and become some easy target for monsters."
The stocky horse angrily stamped his hoof of the dust, and coughed. "If Ambrose were that free, how come Léonard was still around, going about his own life instead of worrying and wasting his time in the woods yesterday?" he angrily asked. "And you guys were snoring comfortably in your stable, while I had to worry every day about this torturer Léonard and his filthy lackeys!"
The third horse yawned. "I guess I was asleep at some other barn instead. Where exactly do you think Ambrose went, Ben?"
"If some horse that I talked to some eight nights ago was right — "
"Can you just stick to the point?!"
" — he might be in the kill-place by now."
The other two horses paused. "You tend to mumble to yourself about 'the killing place'," the black stallion enquired. "What is it like, and where is it? And what did Ambrose do that made Léonard send him there?"
Ben lowered his head, as he tried to recollect his memories. "Perhaps it could be that collection of rubble next to some river," he replied. "You see, Blackie, in 'the killing place', horses are skinned, and their bones made into a grey substance humans call 'glue', which they use to join objects together." He then took a deep breath. "Ambrose, being a emanciated, tormented chum, had enough of his master's beatings, so he bit and kicked at Léonard and fled into the woods, but only for Léonard's men to catch him and bring him back to the farm."
"The same humans that broke into Master Allobrax's house and beat him up a few evenings past?" Blackie wondered. "Their faces and voices seem similar."
"If only the humans in blue would save us all by taking Léonard and his monsters far, far away, like they do to every human monster —" Ben's musings were cut short by Léonard's distant calls.
"Benny-bon, you lazy fatso," Léonard bellowed from the fence, "get your rump over here if you want some chow!" His horse immediately sped off towards him, and back to the stable, where he would be thrown hay and vegetables for his lonely dinner within his miserable pen.
"I hope to see you again, Blackie," Ben cried, as he galloped. "I have more things to talk with you about!"
"Same thing too, Old Ben," murmured Blackie. He raised a hoof to bid Ben off.
"It's getting windy around here, Lax," his friend asked, kicking Blackie's hoof. "Wanna race?"
"At least we'll see what new misadventures the pony boys gotten into!"
"First stallion to the fence may ask first!"
Off they went, to the other side of the farm, with Mr. Allobrax merrily riding his bike behind them. There the cart ponies Gin and Ale were munching on several bananas by the dirt road. By the time they reached the ponies, Blackie won his friend's impromptu challenge, as usual.
"What's up, colts?" Blackie gleefully whinnied, before he tripped and landed on a puddle of mud.
Gin snorted. "It's a horrible day for me," he answered. "Winning second place in some lousy racing event is nothing against little human rascals crawling all over me and shouting at my ear. Hope your friend Boxy's doing well."
"Sorta like me, except without some pesky young ones," Boxy continued.
"What about you, Ale?" asked Boxy.
"While playing frisbee with some humans, Bruscar the Post-Horse gave me that pink thingy dangling on my neck." The Shetland lowered and shook his head, and dropped a pink, heart-shaped capsule to the ground. He shoved it under the fence with his muzzle.
"What does it do? Is it tasty?" Blackie asked.
"I tried to crush that strange husk as it opened, and suddenly I found myself in a forest, chased by several angry, little colourful pig-horses." Boxy replied.
Seriously? All that nonsense over this little fruit? Blackie thought, snorting at what nonsense poor old Ale was muttering about by now. The object popped open as Blackie approached, causing him to spit it out, and run from shock. Mesmerised by the sheer beauty and scents of the horseshoe-sized object's contents, he approached to it slowly. As if compelled by something in his mind, he raised his right hoof, and pressed its red button.
Blackie found himself out of the stormy grey of his home, but on top of a hill on a summer's day. An accompanying tower looms next to him, like a giant sentinel observing the magnificent view. Before him, beyond the sea of sharp, green, trees broken by rivers and ponds, and beyond a cluster of white tents by a glimmering lake towards the other side of a bridge, is a burning city of wooden buildings congregating around something like a drum or a barrel. On some of the buildings he would find a streak of white and gold, or dark blue. And swarming above this commotion are a storm of colourful specks, a blur of glittering gold, midnight blue, and greenish-black. Occasionally it rained a possible casualty or two from what appeared to be fighting. Another swarm, of cobalt and other sullen Idaho hues, approached the burning city, and shot down several flying creatures as it entered.
Aside from the distant battle, much of it was all too familiar to him. Blackie paused for a moment and was horrified when he realised where he was. As he galloped down the grassy hill, dodging cottages and leaping over fences, he noticed several creatures in the sky, suddenly turning towards him. They resembled somewhat like whimsical fat Shetlands with pointy manes and wings, and with fruity eyes all glaring at him. Two of them had angular snouts, and the third a more rounded snout, and a rainbow mane and tail. All three of them were wearing golden armor that almost blinded Blackie's poor eyes from the sunlight. One of them, from further behind, exploded past the other two as an equine meteor that left a rainbow ring at its wake, causing a spectacle so vivid and nauseatingly loud, that Blackie tumbled over and fumbled down the hill.
The capsule around his big neck flew off and bounced with its keeper to the dark trees. Blackie got up and tried to look for it, but he suddenly found himself being cornered by these same two winged ones, surrounding and pointed spears at him. The rainbow-mane horse sternly paced between the two.
"What are you doing here in the woods, earth pony?" the rainbow-maned horse muttered. Her raspy voice was that of an adolescent human who is about to beat up a victim with her friends. "Are you a spy for that traitor Luna, or for the wicked, parasitical Chrysalis?"
"I just happened to end up right there, no thanks to the fruit - it is on your neck!" Blackie flimsily raised his leg to point at his capsule, which the rainbow-mane horse is wearing around her neck.
"I don't want any tricks, sir," Rainbow-horse said back. "State your purposes."
"I am lost, and I want to go home." Blackie replied. "The fruit on your neck brought me here."
"Captain Rainbow Spectra Dash," one of the companion horses broke in. "We should take this tall wanderer and his device back to our base. Captain Ocean Pastry will question him further, and our scholars will bring the device to Canterlot for Captain Twilight to study it further."
"Fine," the rainbow-horse responded. She immediately snapped at one of her companions, "And don't you forget that my name is 'Rainbow Danger Dash', not 'Spectra', idiot. Don't you get it right?!"
"Was 'Danger' an actual part of your birth name?" the companion questioned her. "It might have been left out in publications."
"That is my actual name on my own identity card, Private Steel Glass!", the rainbow-mare lashed out.
"Yes, madam, I will not forget!" he whimpered.
"Good. The next time you forget my name again, I will make you do one hundred and fifty push-ups — Hey!" Blackie bolted along the rainbow-mare, and tore the capsule off her neck. Both her soldiers' forgetfulness, and the lanky horse's little trick, caused her to explode in livid rage.
"Where do you think you're going?" she cried. "Get back here!"
Just as Blackie thought he could easily outwit these squabbling colourful dwarves, their cries of "Get back here!" echoed behind him. He tried to evade the two horses, and dodged any occasional brash streak of blue-gold that resulted in that rainbow horse crashing to a tree or the ground, before it shot up again to catch him. Blackie leaped, jumped, and dodged his way past the bushes, debris, and gaps in the woods, until the dreaded flying horses were nowhere to be seen. Only a frustrated grunt, and a cracked tree trunk, could be faintly heard past the leaves.
He galloped into a cave, hoping that his ridiculously short captors will not find him there. He dropped the capsule from his mouth and tapped it with his right hoof. It popped open. He tried pressing its button several times; if pressing it sent him out of his home into this nightmare, it could send him back home. Yet nothing happened, not even after pressing it several times, so he stamped angrily.
"I might as well stay here, so that the rainbow horses won't catch me and make me fight their battles." Blackie mumbled to himself. "I might as well be alone, without friends, or family — " He felt something hit his back, then splashes behind him, and he got startled. He quickly got up and shoved the capsule under him. "And now there is nowhere safe, as I have to deal with any monsters who live in these caves!" he cried.
"What monsters?" a shrill voice replied back. "And who are you talking to?"
"And who are you, anyway?" Blackie asked.
"Just come over here and say that to my face!" the voice taunted back. "Come over here, won't you?"
"You're so tall, we could see you from the entrance!" another voice joined in. Blackie looked closely into the cave's shadow, beyond any sunlight that shone upon its stream. Among the stalactites and stalagmites he could see three dim shapes; one of them is eating an apple, the second is standing, and the third is flying. They resembled the short winged horses that tried to catch him earlier, but they had bats' wings, darker armor, and shaggier manes and tails. Their amber eyes beckoned to him, like six lanterns in the shadows.
"I see that you have a tasty fruit just between your front hooves, Brush-tail," the standing bat pony stallion spoke. "Just come here and let me have a bite, and you can have all the fruit that you want when the War is over. Or, maybe now."
"I don't think you'll even want to eat it, bat-horse," the black Earth stallion grumbled. "I need that fruit, otherwise I will have to stay in the dark with you three forever."
"At least it's better than getting hunted by Celestia's Royal Guards, and getting subjected to hours of her fwendship lectures and group singing," the apple-eating bat pony jibed. "You'll still have fruit and mushrooms."
The very thought of eating mushrooms disgusted Blackie. "Then I'd get out of here," he replied. "I don't trust you three." He picked up the capsule and ran to the cave's mouth. He could hear flapping behind him: the bat ponies are after him and especially the "fruit" on his mouth. One of the bat ponies was about to catch him when he dived into a river just outside the cave. It and the other two bat ponies flew towards him as he swam to a river bank, but were knocked down by several flying horses, whom they started fighting against. Blackie thought he was safe when he waded out of the river and galloped into the forest. But he heard a familiar voice ringing through the leaves.
"You think you could escape from me?!" it shrieked. Before long he found himself running more quickly than before, and he felt as if something is lifting him off the ground. He looked up, and he recognized that his catcher was the same rainbow horse that he tried to run away from.
"If my troops could not do it, I will take you to Captain Orange Pastry myself!" the rainbow horse said to Blackie. "Hang on there, fellow, 'cause we'll be there in ten seconds — "
But in a flash of light he suddenly found himself back at the very same spot, with Boxy (and and their master Allobrax on his back) beside him. The two Shetlands had already left down the muddy road, somewhere into the vast fields beyond. His pink fruit is still with him, but is now dangling on a bigger chain on his neck. It is starting to rain.
"My dear Blackie," cried Allobrox, "whatever happened to you? I'll get ya some din-din." He hopped on to Boxy's back and rode to home against the furious torrent. "Keep up against the storm, boys!" he yelled.
Lightning danced in the skies above them, somewhat helping the two frightened steeds find their way back to the stables.
"Everything just went mad today, Lax," Boxy cried, as he dashed past the grass. "After you disappeared with your pink fruit-rock thing — " He swiveled before a bolt would fry him and Allobrax. "Some flying rainbow pig-horse crashed at Léonard's home, and scared the ponies and their master off. While they were lucky to make it out unscathed — " Boxy avoided yet another bolt. "Allobrax threw stones at that blue pig, but before the pig could attack him, it vanished!"
"Won't you just shut up, and get to the stable?!" Blackie yelled. The rolling thunder ahead grew with each passing incident, and the two horses had to quickly dodge the frequent bolts blasting and burning the soggy fields. "You're gonna get yourself killed — !"
But at this very moment, Blackie was struck by lightning. That very bolt that hit him was rather extraordinary, as it seemed big. Not just big, but big enough to fry Blackie's whole body, and bright enough to appear as a brief pillar of sunlight. And he was gone: the massive pillar of lightning consumed him without a trace. But neither some ash, or even some scorch marks were present on that very spot; there was only intact grass and trodden mud. He suddenly disappeared.
The storm immediately dissipated to a juicy evening sky. Yet not even a welcome sight from that dreary afternoon was not enough to console the two friends, horse and human, from the loss of their best companion.
Author's note: The previous version of this chapter, which I did a few years ago, seemed awful, so I had to begin my story again to improve it.
