The world has always been an immense place full of the impossible and the probable, a

place where one can live, or where one can stay stagnate and passive while the world passes

them by. Those who seek life, live for adventure, and those who let it pass them by idly, do so in

silence. The world is a place where the unthinkable can happen, and will happen when you least

expect it. I find myself in this position now as I wake after my world has tilted anew.

It’s foggy, it’s faded, and my entire world shifts and cracks open into a new world of

blurry, blinding confusion, so utterly different from the calming blackness my eyes are now

accustom to. There is sand beneath me I realize, rough and grating, not at all like the soft, well-
manicured sands of the tourist beaches back home. Cold water laps at my feet in receding tickles,

a cool relief from the beating sun that bares down on me overwhelmingly. I realize sluggishly,

that I should find shelter or else I’ll risk the possibility of becoming overheated, but despite this

thought, I remain motionless, oddly tired for a reason I couldn’t really remember.

A sharp shock hit me not quite a moment later when I recalled small flashbacks of a

swaying ship, ominous clouds, and lightning streaking the sky in a threat great and fierce. I

remember a voice screaming my name as I fell and the water swallowing me whole. My head

throbbed murderously against these images, and I placed a hand to my forehead tightly and

squeezed my eyes shut. It was very sore and tender, I noted absentmindedly beneath the pain,

and a tidbit of knowledge that I had picked up from some source told me that I must have hit my

head on something. Fingering it, I knew I should get up and try to find someone, which struck

me strange when I realized that no one had found me already.

I opened my eyes again, slowly as the pain dulled after a few fleeting moments of

pressure from my fingers, and tediously sat up. My field of vision swam and twirled in raging

waves for a couple seconds before it foamed, settled, and allowed me to focus. I stared, in

disbelief at the wild expanse of ocean before me. Dozens of colorful fish colonies dashing to and

fro in the numerous, vivid reefs, easily seen through the crystal clear water. I sat fascinated by

the enchanting sight quite unlike anything I had ever seen before. It was so very different from

my place of origin; a place riddled with grassy hills peppered with corn fields and pastures full

of horses, farms wide and far, and rocky, steep mountains always watching from the distance.

The ocean itself is beautiful for it is capable of being calm and peaceful, as well as dangerous

and volatilely tempered.

I blinked, and then I caught myself, and focused my mindset on finding someone instead

of admiring the deep waters. I carefully arranged my legs to stand, mindful of any injuries that I

could have received. Thankfully, by some miracle or another, I was completely unharmed

besides the throbbing migraine and the numbing tiredness.

Turning around, I was once again struck silent because surely I wasn’t seeing this

correctly. Beyond the white, craggy sands lay a hill where rocks high and steeping, both

foreboding and magnificent, rose in haughty grandeur. Even further past the rocks, there were

dense trees, small and squat, yet thick and full, and most certainly not any species of fauna that I

was familiar with. I strained my eyes to see further, but besides the trees I could see nothing else.

I could feel panic begin to pump my veins as I turned my gaze slowly around me, and

realized that I was alone and on an isle that seemed to belong more to nature than anything else.

Undiscovered, unpopulated, and untouched by humankind. The thought was both enthralling and

foreboding. I was seeing nature at its finest, but at the cost of no sign of help.

The isle itself was small, I calculated. It appeared to be surrounded by rocky beaches, at

least on the side that I could see, and was covered in a dense forest. Was there any life? I

questioned myself. I knew I had to search the isle for any sign of clean water and edible foods, if

I had any chance of surviving before help found me.

Abruptly, a snort, loud and sharp, caught my attention, and immediately I tensed and

glanced quickly in the direction of the noise. To my shock, there was a small, elegantly bodied

horse. I paused startled, studying in bewilderment the tiny horse as it gazed back at me with

equally bewildered, yet curious eyes. The horse stared, tippy ears perked and neck high and

tight, with dark eyes limpid. The horse was dark skinned with a dark coat, small and lithe, and I

found myself interested in the fact that I couldn’t discern its breed. Its withers came about to my

chest, but didn’t have the structure nor the conformation of a pony. It was small, well-built, and

athletic looking. It crossed my mind then, a small flicker of thought, that the breed might simply

not be known.

A whinny came from within the confines of the small forest, and it asserted that there

might be more than one of them on the isle. The tiny horse called back, never removing its dark

eyes off me. The rocks skidded and fell as another horse emerge from the dense foliage,

immediately stopping short upon noticing me. This one was also small and dark, lithe and agile,

but was slightly bigger with a thicker neck. As I examined the small tiny scars running along its

body, I wagered to guess that it was a stallion.

The three of us, one human and two dark horses, observed one another silently in a

fleeting span of tension. I watched as their nostrils flared, taking in my scent; attempting to

decide whether I was friend or foe. In reaction, I allowed myself to ease myself into relaxation,

knowing well that horses were very empathic to the emotions around them. With this knowledge,

I made myself as docile and unthreatening as possible, and after a few moments I noticed that

they themselves had become less tense.

Yes, I thought, if I act like I belong, if I treat this like a normality, they will reflect what

they see. They will take note, and after some initial caution, treat me as an everyday occurrence.

The thought was eerie, with the knowledge that unless I was found soon, it could very

well become an everyday occurrence. The first dark horse nickered to me. Curiosity alight in its,

her, I inwardly corrected, dark eyes. Strangely, as I eyed her I felt a connection that seemed

justifiably impossible, but entirely undeniable. I couldn’t quite define what it was. Freedom,

kindness, trust? They all seemed elementary in description, and not quite accurate.

The stallion called to the mare, a soft intonation that was a designated summons. The

mare paused and glanced at him, before returning her gaze again to me. We stared a second

longer before she answered lightly, and turned to trot up the steeping rocks along what I now

vaguely recognized as a well-used pathway.

Without my bidding, my legs followed suit. Both mare and stallion stopped and eyed me,

but otherwise appeared less cautious than earlier and within moments continued along the trail

into forest. Without any thought, still not quite thinking through the haze of my throbbing head, I

followed. A sudden desire to not want to be alone bubbled and brewed along with some strange

instinct that nagged at me that wherever they were going would have food, water, and shelter.

All of which I desperately needed to survive.

The forest was dense, thick, and full of foliage. The trees strange and squat, the leaves a

darker green than what I considered the norm, and oddly entirely devoid of any color other than

striking green on dull brown. The ground itself was lush with thick grass though, tall and thin,

plush and abundant, and growing from every free patch of ground. Pushed and bent aside to form

the rough trail that I now followed the twin dark horses upon.

The horses paused every now and then to glance at me, but queerly, they seemed rather

unperturbed, and I briefly considered the value of that notion. If they lacked fear of something

they had never saw before, being a prey object, than that must infer that they had nothing really

to fear. A hidden relief washed over me at the thought that nothing truly dangerous and

predatory lurked on this tiny, undiscovered isle.

The noise of running water hit my ears then, crisp and piercing, and I dazedly gazed

ahead as the trees opened up into a clearing. The two horses trotted into the clearing, and as they

cleared the way, I stopped, taken aback, as the twins suddenly became part of an entire set: all of

which were tiny, elegant, and darkly colored. At least twenty to thirty stood in a small, loosely

structured herd, watching me with intense fixation. I held my breath, waiting. For what, I wasn’t

completely sure.

The stallion snorted, and trotted to the middle of the herd, confident and easy, clearly the

crowned king of the herd; regaling himself high with a stance both proud and handsome. He

stared me down, untouchable for a sheer, glittering second, before promptly ignoring me to

graze. The others observed him, and watched me warily. The tiny mare nickered to me again,

and considered me with youthful eyes as the herd slowly resumed movement. Cautious, but

trusting of their leader.

As the air eased and lightened, I examined them closer. Noting the similarities, noting the

differences, and most of all trying to categorize what they resembled. To my bemusement, and

slight exhilaration, I couldn’t place them with any known breed that I had ever seen before.

I took a deep breath, inhaling and exhaling slowly, and took further interest in my

surroundings. The clearing was wide, and filled with trimmed, yet wild grass, the same that grew

haphazardly and lush all over the forest, and had a stream that trickled from the opposite end of

the clearing and into a small, mirror-like pool to my close right. I stared in silent admiration as

the sun reflected into sparkling, micro-sized diamonds on its surface. Bushes popped up

randomly along the edges of the pool, growing purplish-pink berries. Evidence that they were

considered a delicacy was apparent by the chew marks and missing bushels.

The clearing was peaceful, lovely, wild, and dreamlike. To me, it tasted like freedom

from society, from the norm, from the hectic and somewhat cruel expectancy of human life. My

smile widened into a deep and sincere grin, as I made a brash, but uncannily correct decision to

make the most of being lost on an unknown isle. With my positivity brimming, I ignored the dull

and painful throb that still resonated through my skull and set to work; mindful and careful to be

respectful of the horses and their space.

Later, as I laid back that evening to get some rest, the burning fire keeping me warm as I

watched the small herd of dark horses. They themselves settled down to sleep as I began to

drowse, and I realized in this small moment of peace that I wouldn’t mind so much keeping this

little haven to myself, and that the outside world could wait for a while.

“What on Horse Isle is this place?” The captain asked a question that even I, StewFace,

could not answer. We both stood in awe as our confused expressions turned into smiles. Every

worry about the most recent events of the day had suddenly disappeared. We had truly

discovered something incredible. Of course, even if I told you, you wouldn’t believe it without

seeing it for yourself.

Just an hour before our discovery, my horse, Boardwalk, and I boarded a boat on Tiger

Isle in hopes of reaching Plains Isle for a Jockey competition. It was a clear, sunny day, but I

knew something was off by the way Boardwalk acted; I literally had to shove him aboard the

As we traveled along, the waters began to make the boat ride much less pleasant. We

figured someone must have angered Zeus, as the waters on Horse Isle are generally calm.

Powerful waves smacked the boat and sent us off course. Suddenly, the boat came to a stop. As

we looked up, we saw that we had hit land. We never paid attention to the isle as we scrambled

under some palm trees to escape the rain. Once the storm calmed, we began to look around,

trying to figure out which isle we landed on. Neither the captain nor I could figure out where on

Horse Isle we were.

“I’m not entirely sure where we are in relation to the other isles,” I replied once I finally

found my voice, “but I believe I know the purpose of this isle.”

“Well, what is it then?!”

“Do you recognize any of these horses? They are all grazing too calmly to be wild. And

there is no house here, so this isn’t someone’s ranch.”

The captain pondered for a moment before a single tear ran down his cheek. He pointed

to a rather old Clydesdale. “Why, I don’t belive it,” he mumbled, his voice shaky. “That’s my

old stallion, Bruno! He used to pull my boat to shore when I would get it stuck on rocks. I never

thought I would see him again.”

I watched in awe as the captain ran to meet Bruno, who happily galloped to meet him

halfway. Then I saw something else. In my peripheral vision, I saw a dark grey muzzle coming

to rest on my shoulder. I turned and saw Silver Maiden, the beautiful Westphalian mare I sold to

the foreign bidder. Suddenly, I understood everything: the reason for this isle and the reason no

one knows about this isle. No one knows what happens to the horses that they sell to the foreign

bidder... until now.

The captain and I said our goodbyes to our horses and returned to the boat. Once we

finally were back on course to Plains Isle, we decided to keep the location of the isle, which we

rightfully decided to call the “Isle of Foreign Retirement,” a secret. Letting the location of the

foreign bidder’s horses be known could possibly disrupt the bidding system, cause inflation, and

disrupt the beautiful, luscious, bright green isle that the horses graze happily on. This was

certainly an adventure for the books, but for the sake of Horse Isle, the location can never be

revealed.

The sweltering heat of the hot desert sun started to really get to me- my horse was traveling so slow, and was weak and dehydrated, as was I. The shifting sands restricted mobility by a great amount, and if you stopped, you’d be suffocated by the sand. And to make matters worse, I was out of food, water, and horse feed. Any time now and my companion and I would drown in the golden crystallized earth.
It must’ve been at least 130° Fahrenheit, almost breaking the top highest temperature to date. Or maybe it did. I didn’t have any way of knowing- my thermometer was about to break from the intense heat, and my compass needle was flailing in all directions. Plus, my map was blown away in the recent sandstorm.
I was losing all hope when my horse started to slow down, and we were covered up to his knees in sand. It couldn’t get any worse- then, of course, it did (the world just LOVES proving me wrong, doesn’t it?). A fat tailed scorpion, one of the most venomous of the arachnid family, approached my horse. He tried to stomp on it, which only aggravated the scorpion. It stung his inner gaskin, putting him into immense pain. He bolted off, leaving me on my rear with no supplies. Now there really was no hope. I carefully crawled away from the scorpion, although at this point it didn’t matter. I was up to my shoulders in the sand.
Struggling for air, even though it was 80% sand, I was soon about to give up. I was soon about to say my prayers and goodbyes. Evergreen the explorer would be no more. I allowed the sand to suck me in. There was no other way. It was over.
Closing my eyes, I was ingested by the sand, expecting to die. But just then, I landed on my rear with a loud thunk. “What… I’m… alive?!” I thought. Though the sand in my eyes made me temporarily blinded, I felt my way around the area.
There were tall, giant columns and pillars, with some sort of engravings on them. The stone I was standing on felt polished and smooth. The walls had imprints, possibly cave drawings. I rubbed the sand from my eyes, and investigated my surroundings while squinting. It then occurred to me that I was in some sort of temple. The imprints on the walls were, in fact, cave drawings, which depicted people building this giant tower. At the time, it was a lush prairie. It must have been the beginning of time when this structure was built. It showed some sort of temple room, so using the engravings as a guide, I walked into the depths of the temple.
One hallway had jewels and metals encrusted into the walls and flooring, including an old rusted iron door. Busting it open, I came across an opening to a whole new world. It was a subterranean paradise island. There were trees, grass, flowers, ponds, and diverse creatures. I had never seen this wildlife before. The trees beared an unknown fruit. It was large, purple, and shaped like a pear. There was a bird in the tree with feathers of white and black, with silver glisten. I cautiously picked one of the fruits off the tree and opened it. It didn’t seem to be harmful- taking a bite, it was one of the most amazing things I had ever eaten. I named it “Everfruit”, after myself, of course. It then occurred to me that I had fallen through the surface, below the sand, into an underground island. There was so much to do and see, I didn’t even have time to ponder the logic.
The water was sweet, like it had never been drunk before. Everything existed in undisturbed peace and harmony. The people that used to live here must’ve been very intelligent and respectful.
After gathering more Everfruit and crafting a container for it and water, I climbed up back into the sandstorm. With renewed energy and motivation to return home with my discovery, I trudged off, back into the wretched land.