Anemic light filtered through the holes of a makeshift home as the sun, far and away above the omnipresent layer of grey clouds, shone what weak light it could manage onto the wasteland below. This light, which I grumpily tried to remind myself was a miracle in this day and age, managed to deposit itself right onto my sleeping eyes.

Lethargically, I sat up in my bed and rubbed my eyes with a fetlock, looking around the room still half asleep. Dreams fading and reality still just starting to assert itself, I was sorely tempted to lie back down and likely would have if not for the vague feeling that today was very important, though I couldn't yet remember why.

Grudgingly accepting that I would have to begin my day sooner-or-later, I put one hoof on the floor and almost immediately knocked over a small stack of books. Damn. I was still sleepy, but I couldn't help smiling in spite of myself. Heh, most ponies wouldn't use that word to describe it, I thought as I lifted some rather hefty tomes in a haze of magic and put them on another, already rather precarious, pile.

My already humble abode of rusty sheet metal and wood was made even smaller by the books, papers, and priceless artifacts of Pre-War Equestria that covered almost every available surface and much of the floor as well. Sure, everypony else in town thought it was a bunch of useless junk and trinkets, but I saw them for what they were. Though I would greatly appreciate some real artifacts, I thought to myself. Yawning and stretching, I wrapped my magic around my glasses and a simple vest and put them on.

"Wait!" I said, entirely to myself. "Today is that day!

Everyone in the village had heard stories about the wasteland, but it had been around for just long enough that even the youngest adults had never seen it. It was technically part of the Equestrian Wasteland of course, but its survival for so long was mainly due to the fact that it was off the beaten path, so to speak. Or at least that's what we were told. I'd read enough of what remains from the war to know that it was a brutal affair on both sides, but I knew what Equestria was like before all of that. Friendship, compassion, and harmony were what defined it, and even if those values were temporarily forgotten I couldn't believe they went away. That's why I remained skeptical when the few who have been outside tell stories about bloodthirsty raiders committing unspeakable acts for fun! Sure crime is probably rampant, and I'll admit there is likely some truth to the accounts of the wasteland, but could ponies have really changed that much? And the more fantastic stories of radioactive monsters? Well, looking around our town I found it hard to take seriously.

Walking out of my home and magically closing the sheet-metal door behind me, I blinked in the (relatively) bright sunlight for a second before my eyes adapted. The sounds of ponies going about their daily lives were all around. Two foals chased each other playfully between the dilapidated buildings, and their parents chatted on the other side of the narrow street running through the town. Nearby I saw a large, familiar stallion loading stone and wood into a rickety wooden cart.
"Good morning, Mr. Hammer," I greeted him cheerily.

He made a sound halfway between a chuckle and a grunt. "Hasn't been morning for hours, Tome. Some of us work for a living," he said.

I started in a mock-offended tone, "I will have you know that administrative tasks are essential to ensuring that things around here move smoothly!"

That almost got a smile from the older stallion. "So you keep telling us," he said.

"Besides," I continued, "after today nopony will be able to say I don't pull my weight around here."

He looked suddenly uncomfortable, one of his front hooves scraping at the cracked, brown, earth, as he said, "Yeah I, uh, heard about that. Just be careful out there, alright?"

"You'll see, I'll be perfectly fine, but thank you," I replied.

He didn't seem very reassured, but that was alright. Even if anything went wrong, which I very much doubted would happen, I wouldn't be alone anyway. On that note, I bid him farewell and trotted away to find a certain somepony.

Even if I had to search the entire settlement, it wouldn't have taken me very long to find her. For all its rustic charm and friendly neighbors, the village was not exactly a match for the majestic towers of Canterlot, or the urban sprawl of Manehattan. At least, from what I'd read about them that is.

Yes, except that those places no longer exist, the thought came unbidden to my mind. I hadn't been entirely fair. My life until this point had been good, but I wanted to see the world outside, or at least what was left of it. Which was why I was so excited that I would have the chance to do so today, at least in a small way. In my reverie, I almost walked right past the mare I was looking for.

Moving down the road in the opposite direction was an earth pony mare, wearing scrap armor and a rifle slung at her side over a very fitting gunmetal grey coat. On her left foreleg was a StableTec Pipbuck, weathered by its time in the wasteland, but still almost entirely functional. It was one one of the few we had, and all of them, much to my dismay, were owned by members of the militia. Her sienna mane was cut short, and her expression was as it often was, determined and utterly serious. The sort that belied a sense of commitment to duty, regardless of how mundane her task. If she was happy to see me, then her expression most certainly did not show it.

I fell into step beside her and started sheepishly, "Morning, Callie."

"We leave at 0930. Be ready by then," she said shortly.

"Look, I realize you're still upset about-," I started to reply before being cut off.

"You know it isn't personal, Orphic. This is a military operation, and it should be left to military personnel," she said briskly.

I was tempted to remind her that by "military" she meant "village militia with cobbled-together armor and scavenged weapons", but thought better of it. She may have been my closest foalhood friend, but I knew she wouldn't forgive me for that comment. I decided to be a bit more diplomatic about the matter.

"I see where you're coming from, really, but the Elders feel that I should be allowed to go with you. I promise I'll do what you say without hesitation," I said.

She let out an exasperated sigh and said, "You better. Mistakes out there get you killed. We aren't sightseeing."

"Yes, yes, I've heard the lecture from mother, and Crack Shot, and practically everypony else as well," I replied with a hint of annoyance slipping into my voice. At that she shook her head, but declined to continue the same argument we'd been having since I first made my request weeks ago. She left to continue some task elsewhere after reminding me again to be ready to leave soon. I bid her farewell and began to walk back home.

On the way I couldn't get her comment out of my head. She had taken every opportunity to try to impress upon me just how dangerous the wasteland outside of town is, but she'd always come back in one piece hadn't she? Only very rarely had somepony been injured or even killed on one of their scavenging outings. I realized it must be dangerous, however simultaneously I was able to feel a bit offended at the implications that I wouldn't last an hour out there.

It wasn't about my pride though. Whenever one of the teams came back from a successful run, which wasn't every time, they brought some practical item leftover from the past. The many long years of protracted war had shaped Equestria into an industrial power whose collective unconscious was fixated on the idea that at any moment the terrifying Zebras of omnipresent Ministry propaganda posters could descend on their homes. Buildings were built with bomb shelters, food was made to last almost indefinitely, and companies like Stable-Tec represented this idea taken to its logical extreme. In short: when Pre-War Equestria built something, it was built to last. Because of this, High Caliber and the others could find ruins of civilization and bring back edible food and sometimes usable equipment as well. The problem was, that's all their practical minds thought to look for.

I shuddered to think how many priceless propaganda posters, newspapers, and worst of all, books had been left behind! And so I approached the two Elders who more-or-less ran this settlement, my mother Sophic Tome, and Crack Shot who ran the militia. I asked that I be allowed to join the next excursion into the Wasteland, to evaluate the potential historical value of any artifacts we found. After weeks of convincing, they decided to grant my request. Needless to say, this was the day of that excursion, and High Caliber was the pony I would accompany.

Deep in thought, I almost walked past my destination. Again. That tended to happen sometimes, when I was deep in thought and lost track of surroundings. I opened the door to my home and walked inside. What to bring, what to bring? I made my way through the small space, carefully avoiding any precarious piles this time, and lifted some of the objects I deemed essential in a field of heliotrope: some pre-war clothes which had been patched in places, but which were still otherwise well-preserved, saddlebags, some books for field-identification purposes, and other small things that might be useful.

Floating the assorted items with me, I trotted into the cramped bathroom and slipped on the light shirt, and dark-green checkered sweater, and put the rest into the saddlebags. Then turning the mirror- or what passed for one anyway: a sufficiently polished piece of metal attached to the wall -and thought, Now there's a nice look for official wasteland business, half-jokingly. From the surface of the mirror stared back a fairly young stallion with a deep indigo coat surrounding two olive eyes. And a mane of light chestnut that was in severe need of a brushing...

With all of that taken care of I trotted out towards the edge of town, where the others would see myself and Caliber off. I practically bounced as I traveled down the road, this was going to be so exciting! However as I neared where they would no doubt be waiting, I tried to put on a serious expression. Anything less than absolute seriousness would surely lead to a lecture on the dangers of the outside world and cast aspersions on their perception of my readiness for this.
As I turned a corner around a short building, I saw the three of them waiting for me. High Caliber and the two Elders that ran the town, the militia commander and my mother, Sophic Tome. The former two looked on impatiently, while the latter at least greeted me happily. "Orphic, dear! How are you?"

"I'm fine, ready to get underway. How are you?" I asked in reply. Alright doing well so far.

He sneered at that. "Hah. The only thing ya look ready for is a leisurely stroll. See Lieutenant Caliber?" I looked over to my friend in her usual barding. "That's how ya dress for the wasteland," he said. Even without her facial expression changing, I could feel smug satisfaction radiating.

"Well," I replied, "I don't normally have overmuch use for armor. Besides isn't that why she'll be with me anyway? In case something goes wrong?"

"Fine, suit yourself," he said with an irritated sigh. "At least you'll have a sidearm,"

I blanched at that. "Er...well, no, but-"

At that mother had to jump in, "Orphic Tome," Oh no, I thought, "you are lucky that we're allowing you to leave at all. I will not allow you to go out into that hellscape unarmed." My ears folded down and I felt a rush of embarrassment at being scolded like a colt. As soon as we left, my traveling companion was going to have a field day with this.

"Sisters above, boy, are ya trying to get yerself killed out there?" He levitated the large pistol from a holster on his shoulder towards me, grip first. I held it with my magic by one corner and dropped it into my saddlebag. I think it was a 10mm, but couldn't be sure. Firearms weren't really my area of expertise. In fact, I'd hardly even used one outside of the few times Callie had tried to teach me.

I thanked him briefly and with that settled, we were almost ready to leave. Although we would almost certainly be back before nightfall, mom was understandably emotional at the situation. She looked at me teary-eyed and hugged me, saying, "I'm so proud of you, and he would be too."

Knowing she meant my father, I returned the hug and simply said, "I know, thank you,"

She took a step back and placed a hoof on High Caliber's withers while turning to look at her. "And you too, dear. He thought of you as the daughter he never had."

Her stoic expression softened upon hearing that. She gave a slight nod and said, "Thank you, ma'am."

After finishing our farewells, we left through the gate and began our walk out into the wasteland.

No less than ten minutes after the beginning of our wonderful journey, I began to wonder how much longer it would take. Normally I wasn't so impatient, but so far the scenery hadn't been as interesting as I had hoped. Dead and twisted husks of trees surrounded us in all directions, in what was once surely a lovely forest. Really, it shouldn't be so unnerving. After all, these are the same trees I'd seen all the my life, the only trees I'd seen. But they weren't the ones I knew.

The ones I knew only existed in books and pictures. Beautiful, living, things with rich brown trunks and full of vibrant, verdant green leaves. Other ponies never understood why I couldn't let go of things that hadn't existed in generations. My mother used to say that I was born in the wrong time, I guess that's as good an explanation as any.

I was jerked out of my thoughts as my front left hoof caught on a root and I almost lost my balance. Woah, Orphic, watch where you're going. There were no roads leading to our village, as that would have defeated the purpose of keeping hidden, so we walked slowly through the closely spaced trees and uneven ground. High Caliber looked back at me questioningly. I shook my head and said, "Oh nothing, just lost my footing. How much further is it now?"

"Few hours yet," she replied tersely.

"Hours?!"

She continued walking and replied evenly, "Hours. This area was rural before the war. Closest ruins are a small town twelve klicks east of here."

Alright, I can certainly wait that long. It'll be worth it, no doubt.

It was hours as she said, until we came to the edge of the forest and could see the open wasteland stretch out before us. Under a sky of grey, it stretched in every direction: a field of browns broken only by the occasional mountain of stone or metal. Everywhere, and to each horizon were the colors of dead earth, rust, and ruin.

Not far from where we stood just outside the trees, were a few clustered buildings on either side of a dirt road. The rotting wood and general state of poor repair indicated that the buildings were from before the war. It didn't look like they suffered damage directly from the war, and from my maps there didn't seem to be any population centers or military installations worth bombing around here anyway, I thought while examining the buildings from afar. Rather, decay and entropy were the likely culprits.

Apparently unwilling to wait for my train of thoughts to end, Caliber had already started approaching the ruins. She looked back at me. "You coming?"

Yes, I'll admit, the sight of the wasteland staggered me. It didn't diminish my curiosity though, and I still could not wait to see what sort of precious things I could find in these untouched caches of-

"Orphic! Come on!" she yelled back, again without stopping to wait.

Oh, there I go again. I suddenly came to the realization that she was leaving me behind, and she was the one meant to fend off the vicious monsters that supposedly populated the wasteland...not that I was ready to believe in such things of course.

A branch behind me creaked, and I broke into a full gallop after her.

It was outside the nearest building that I caught up to her, trying unsuccessfully to play off the fact that I had just ran after her like a scared foal running after its mother. She looked at me from the corner of her eye, and the corner of her mouth raised in what threatened to be an actual smirk.

The building we stood outside seemed to be the remains of a General Store of some kind. "So, are we going in there?" I asked, while gesturing with a hoof.

She walked past it however and answered, "No, we've picked that one clean. We need to go further."

Again? I suppressed a sigh and continued to follow. Thankfully we didn't need to go overmuch further. A few buildings down she stopped in front of an old one-room school. This town was clearly too small to have warranted anything bigger.
She turned around to face me, her face bearing its normal no-nonsense expression. "Alright, Orphic, here it is. I don't see anything on EFS, but there's no way to know for sure from out here. I'll go in first, you'll follow. Stay low, and stay quiet, until I know it's clear. Questions?"

I believe she expected me to ask about the EFS, or something that she felt should be similarly obvious. Well, technology may not have been my forte, but I knew that much at least. The magical spell-matrix of the Pipbuck that allowed the user to identify threats or important locations, I thought. Time to show her I can handle my self.

"No, I understand," I answered with false confidence.

"Good," she replied simply and faced the door, "And for the Sisters' sake, Orphic, draw your sidearm."

Oh.

Annoyed at myself, I took the pistol out of my saddlebag with my telekinesis and followed High Caliber through the door. Inside was dark and dusty, and most of what little light there was disappeared when I closed the door quietly behind me, and the rest came only from cracks in the wall and filtered through windows covered in centuries of dust and grime. She crouched down against a wall across from the door which blocked the rest of the room from view. I ducked against the wall behind her as she turned to whisper, "One red mark, 2 o'clock."

I was glad then for the darkness, so my friend wouldn't see when I was sure the color had drained from my face. I was sure we were about to be eaten by some irradiated wasteland monster in a cruel cosmic joke about my doubts.

Alright, think, Orphic, 8 o'clock is straight ahead...2 is to the right through the wall then, I tried to overpower my terror through thought.

It didn't help. My breathing quickened. Callie readied her gun and leaned around the corner.

With a visible sigh of relief, she slung the gun back around her trunk and stepped behind the wall. "It's alright, Orphic, you can come out."

Upon hearing that I followed her around the corner. Then I saw what had set off the EFS. I would very much like to say that I didn't scream and back against the wall. Unfortunately...

"GAAHHH, what the hell is that?!" I yelled and gestured frantically from my spot curled-up on the floor at the enormous insect skittering towards High Caliber. It moved so quickly with all its legs, and its dark carapace shone in the dim light as it let out a hiss.

She looked at me with a bemused expression as she nonchalantly stomped on the Radroach threatening to bite her ankles. This time she couldn't help herself and bursted out laughing at me. "Hahaha, really? It's just a Radroach."

Rare and lovely though it may have been, I much preferred to hear it when it wasn't directed at me. "That's a Radroach?!"

"They said they were big, not gargantuan! It's the size of a dog," I said still trying to calm myself.

Her face changed to an expression of incredulity as she replied, "A small dog, Orphic. Heh, that almost made it worth bringing you out here. When they hear about it back home..."

What?!

"Come on, Callie, nopony needs to hear about it," I pleaded while getting back on all four feet.

But they were going to.

Even without seeing her face I could sense the cruel smirk. "You would not!" I said.

She definitely would. I gave out a small sigh, resigned to my fate of undignified mockery. Well at least somepony is enjoying themselves.

As it turned out, the schoolhouse did not hold anything in the way of valuable salvage by either of our definitions. We had to check another building, a house this time, before we found anything of note.

Rifling through broken buildings, looking for once mundane treasures from a world long gone. A toaster? Two hundred years ago it was nothing special, but now? It's a relic from a time long past.

"It's a toaster," she deigned to inform me as I cradled the appliance in my front legs.

"It's an artifact!"

"It's just a toaster," she repeated, almost derisively.

My brow furrowed and my excitement waned as I replied, "I know you don't exactly share my love of the past, but you'll usually at least humor me..."

"You know how I feel about these expeditions. We risk exposing ourselves to the enemy every time we come out here. No time for junk," she said tersely as she looked instead at a gunmetal grey box on the shelf in front of her.

Oh yes, the enemy, like that radroach, I thought, just barely restraining myself from saying as much to her for the second time in a day. This was another age-old argument that I wasn't going to win against her. And now was certainly not the time to remind her of the tired disagreement.

I stood by as she set her two front hooves on the rusted shelving unit and leaned up to reach for the box. Normally, most earth ponies became proficient in dexterously manipulating objects with their hooves and mouths, but, well, sometimes there's no replacement for magic. Still staring blankly, I watched as my friend overbalanced and tipped the light shelf over onto herself. I started, but it was apparent only her pride was wounded. Quickly I turned around and pretended both to have not noticed her trouble and that I was certainly not suppressing a snicker.

The icy feeling on my crest told me that she wasn't buying it. I looked back just long enough to see that her trouble earned her a small pile of junk: a few bottlecaps, some bobby pins and some scrap metal. The grunt and muttered curse accompanying the sound of a metal box being kicked was my cue to start examining the other side of the room.

After making my hasty retreat, I founded myself looking at one of the walls in another room. Again, the combined forces of the war itself, centuries of exposure, and periodic scavenging had left little recognizable, let alone valuable. Wait. Suddenly, I drew in a sharp, excited, breath. Apparently something survived, as I saw a scrap of color under the accumulated dirt and grime.

Igniting my horn, I took a small brush out of a saddlebag and began brushing away the covering. As I wiped the bristles back-and-forth gently over the surface, the picture revealed itself and my heart beat faster.

A spot of cerulean under the dirt, then another. Two eyes watching from the sky, enormous and disembodied, but their body well-known to any who saw them. Eyebrows arched in authoritarian survey, the Ministry Mare of the pre-war Ministry of Morale watched in judgement. A Pinkie Pie pantocrator sat above the silhouette of a dark and lanky zebra carrying some sort of case in a stylized cityscape. The words "MoM KEEPS YOU SAFE" were printed in a large font near the bottom, and the balloon logo of the Ministry was in the lower corner.
I gasped and took the poster off the wall in my magic. I couldn't believe I'd actually found something of value so quickly! Gingerly, I rolled it up and set it into a saddlebag. This most certainly made up for earlier's embarrassing incident. I opened my mouth, but closed it without saying anything. I could show her later, when she was in a better mood. Happily I trotted back to see if she was ready to move on with our search.

With our saddlebags nearly full and the day growing short, we left the building and began towards home. Suddenly High Caliber stopped in her tracks and held up a hoof.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Another mark on EFS," she replied.

Not another one. "Another radroach?" I asked more tentatively.

"No. Green this time," she answered, as if she expects me to know what that means. At least it isn't red... I hoped it was a good thing anyway.

To put my fears to rest I opened my mouth to inquire after an explanation, but she cut me off.

"Get your gun. You can never be too sure."

I dug through my saddlebag for the weapon for the second time that day. Shifting through the things I had brought, and trying to ignore the feeling that I was the target of a particularly unamused look, until I found it back at the bottom. By then she had moved into cover between the two nearest buildings and was waving for me to do the same.

We waited in a small alley between the house we had just left and one directly next to it. Without a Pipbuck I was practically blind from our hiding spot. I became uncomfortably aware of my heart beating. I knew the thumps were coming faster than normal, yet each one passed more slowly. Incessant reminders that I could see nothing of whatever was on the other side of the walls. I stared at High Caliber, searching for any sign of relief or fear or action from my friend.

She peeked out past the wall, looking past where I could see. By then I could hear a faint sound: that of wooden wheels on a road. She let out an almost imperceptible breath and began to stand. Keeping her voice just above a low whisper, she said, "It's a stallion hauling a cart full of supplies. I can't tell what from here. EFS says he's friendly."

I let out a much more perceptible sigh of relief and stood up on my hooves as well. After brushing off some of the dirt, I said, "Well then, a friendly pony is nothing to worry about. Likely he's simply doing the same as us."

"He's an outsider, Orphic. He can't be trusted," she said. "Besides, a wastelander shouldn't be out this far..."

"Well unless you plan to shoot him outright, we may as well introduce ourselves," I walked past her out into the street to greet the new pony.

The pony stopped in his tracks, his wagon coming to an abrupt halt as he saw me come out into the open. It only took a second before his reflexes kicked in and he said in a gruff voice, "I don't want any trouble ya hear?!"

I stopped likewise and sat on my docks with my front hooves raised in the air, in what was hopefully a placating gesture. "Neither do we. My name is Orphic Tome, we're just here seeking salvage."

The other stallion narrowed his eyes, but was still calm enough at least to not be reaching for his gun. Good, that's progress, now to just keep it that way. He opened his mouth to speak again, "Who's we? How many of ya are there?"

In response I looked back to the alley and said, "It's alright, Caliber, he's friendly."

Earlier she had been irritated, now she was angry. The difference in her gait, her posture, and her facial expression would have been too slight and too similar to her normal impassive one for most ponies to notice, but I did and it terrified me. She walked into the street with her rifle slung across her chest and a look that said she couldn't believe what I'd just done.

"Why?! What would make you think it was a good idea to give our position away to any fucking wastelander that wanders by?" she shouted as she walked towards me. I reflexively took a few steps back and sank lower to the ground under the withering criticism. "I swear," she continued, "for somepony so smart, you can be a real dumbass."

That was the final straw. I could not restrain it anymore, couldn't stay polite this time. "Oh, am I? Well then, where are all the monsters? Where's the deadly radiation, and the death? I haven't seen any evidence to convince me that the horror stories are anything other than exaggerations. Keep playing soldier if you so desire, the only thing you need to 'protect' us from are the radroaches," I said, turning away from her and kicking a hoof in frustration.

The merchant had been waiting while we argued, and stood scratching a hoof back-and-forth in the desiccated ground, not quite looking at either of us. As the silence between the three of us stretched on, and threatened to continue doing so, he opened his mouth to add his two bits, so to speak. "Yuh should listen to yer friend there, son. Wasteland's a dangerous place. Y'all two seem like decent enough folks though. Tell ya what, if ya found anything of value around here, I'm willing to trade for supplies."

I was clearly outnumbered, and saw no chance in arguing further. I looked over to Caliber with my head tilted to the side towards the trader. She was still smoldering, but shook her head slightly in response to the unasked question. I could apologize to her later, in private. Turning back to the unnamed merchant, I replied, "We're terribly sorry, and certainly appreciate the offer, but sadly we haven't found anything worth trading."

"Hehe, it's just like my Pa always used to say, everything's worth something to somepony. But suit yerselves I guess. I'll be on mah way then." He began to turn in a wide semicircle to to guide his wagon back onto the road, when he turned his head to look back at us. "By the way, big group o'raiders was headin' westwards a few hours ago. Y'all watch out if yer going thataway."

As soon as the words came out of his mouth High Caliber was galloping back towards home. Absentmindedly I thanked the trader before taking off in pursuit. I never even learned his name. The thought came and left as my hooves pounded over the dry ground between the ruins and the treeline.

By the time I entered the remains of the forest, she was far ahead of me and barely visible for the twisted trunks between us. My gallop was slowing to a canter as I fought the growing stitch in my side and the dry burning in my throat. Even with all her equipment, she was outpacing me by a sizable margin, which was growing as the minutes passed. I was not a pony very used to physical exertion, and that lifestyle was coming back to haunt me at that moment. I could have yelled for her to slow down, but it would have been no use, even if she heard me. Nothing now was going to deter her, no doubt fearing the absolute worst and replaying the grisliest atrocities related to her in hushed stories of the raiders. Stories.

But if they had credence to them? I hardly had time to ruminate on that, as my fatigue continued to grow to exhaustion. The same trees I criticized before now looked to be very inviting spots to rest. I couldn't stop though. There was the chance, however slight, that I could be wrong, and the thought was growing stronger. In a centuries-dead forest, a seed of doubt was growing.

My stride listed and slowed again to a trot, before I fell against a tree and sank to my knees gasping for breath. I couldn't take in enough air to sustain my pace itself, let alone with the cognitive dissonance surrounding enclosing my thoughts, encroaching on my attempts to calm myself. Bloodthirsty nigh-feral ponies wandering in bands across the wasteland, and now one of these was said to be heading for our village. If I was wrong all these years to think the elders had embellished, then I was horrendously wrong. My friend, guide, and only form of protection, was long gone if I stumbled across any wildlife I knew to exist here. There was one small island of rationality that kept me from succumbing to panic; the only way to know for sure is to keep moving on. I pushed myself to get back on all four hooves and set off again for town.

The way leaving town was long and rather boring, but coming back was solitary, urgent, and excruciating. It easily felt twice as long this way. Eventually, though, I knew I had to be getting close. Far off through the trees I could see a tiny orange glow, and began to hear sounds that were still too far away to identify.

Suddenly, a dark shape emerged from behind a tree ahead of me. I gasped and jumped, before realizing that it was another pony, and a familiar one at that. "You fell behind. We need to hurry," High Caliber said in a carefully neutral tone. This was her in her on-duty demeanor, and hearing it was not helping my calm. True, it was practically her normal one, but this told me that she now considered this a combat situation. I still clung to the belief, quickly bleeding into a hope, that it was a false alarm. She began moving off in a direction askew of the village itself, in a more paced canter.

I wouldn't have been able to keep it up forever, but the slower pace was a respite, and allowed me to fall into step beside her. "Where are we going? Aren't we going back?"

"We need to assess the situation first. There's a contingency for this," she replied without slowing down or turning to look at me. "We're heading to higher ground."

Since when did the two of us switch places? She always could restrain her impulsiveness when it came to tactical matters, but now? "Don't we need to go back and help?"

She skipped to a stop upon hearing that. Turning to face me, she walked up until her muzzle was almost pressed against mine and spoke in a voice just barely keeping it together, "Don't you think I want to?! I'm fighting every damned fiber that says I should run into town and start shooting these wasteland assholes!" She slammed a back hoof into a tree, and stared me down through ragged breaths. Her focus beginning to reassert itself, she continued, "The plan exists for a reason. We aren't going to help anypony by getting ourselves killed. Or worse."

With driven strides, she continued in the direction she was moving before, faster again. "If we can help, we need to know now. So come on or get left behind."

We reached the hill after a scant few minutes of travel. Just outside the town, but on the wrong side of the mass of dirt ahead of and above us, we could hear clearly the horrible sounds from within the crude palisade before we could see what was happening. Exhaustion was overcoming the limits that adrenaline pushed me to, as I almost dragged myself up the slope. My other senses were cruelly hinting at what I would find when I reached the hilltop. The unmistakable cracking, whooshing sound that accompanied the orange glow that silhouetted the hill, the pounding gunfire staccato, louder than it had any right to be. And the screaming.

The screaming was the worst of it. Moans, cries, shouts, belying unspecified agonies. The sounds of hatred, and of suffering. Hearing it tore at my insides, and compelled me both to continue up to where I could watch, and to run far and hide. The former was stronger, though only barely, and now I was nearly at the top.

I lifted my legs, heavy as if they were made of metal, for the last few dragging steps it took me to reach the small summit. Finally I could see the town, or what remained at least. I thought the sight might be some small consolation; no longer being in the dark, being able to know for sure what was happening, was better than the alternative wasn't it? I thought so anyway...

I was so very wrong. My metal legs turned to mush, yet I hardly felt them give out, leaving me on my haunches with my front legs threatening to do likewise. There was no reserve of energy left for them, and no concern in my mind for anything beside the scene in front of me.

The first thing I saw was the fire. The shapes of individual buildings were hard to make out between the glowing, roaring blaze and the stark shadows they cast upon each other. Soon enough though, my eyes adjusted enough to let me see some of them. Numbly I looked at the scorched wreck of a small shack that was a mare's fruit stand. She was a nice pony, with a mutfruit cutie-mark. Always wearing that necklace her mother left her, and a smile. Her body lay not far away, still burning.

My eyes followed the path I may have walked down the road on any given day. Bloody charred corpses were already strewn about the dirt path. I'd never seen this sort of death before, and the experience was surreal.

More pounding gunfire expanded my tunnel-vision slightly. Further down the street a group of ponies I didn't recognize, though it was hard to tell from where I laid, were firing at something I couldn't see. Their cruel jeering shouts added to the cacophony, and as they moved past a blazing edifice I saw them more clearly. With barding covered in filth and viscera, they yelled and laughed as they trotted through my town. There was only one word for the reaving near-feral creatures in front of me: raiders. Straight from the stories I scoffed at. I was wrong.

There were other groups spread throughout the few streets, now that I looked at them as well. A militia pony, Callie probably knew his name, fell in a spray of gunfire. Another group looked to be surrounding a corpse, as one grabbed a crude blade from their side and began cutting into it. I hope it was a corpse. I saw another group of them around a prone figure, and finally I looked away, as my stomach knotted in on itself. I couldn't watch what was going to happen.

I cannot bring myself now to relay the full horror of the things I saw there, but let it suffice to say that not all of them had the good fortune to die immediately.

I still couldn't think about what was in front of me. It seemed so far from me, like I was divorced from the brutal reality unfolding there. I watched and could do nothing to alter it, as if this atrocity were happening on a scale beyond anything I'd ever experienced, and its existence was now a fact that would be regardless of what happened next. In my eyes my home burned, in my mind I couldn't remember a time when it didn't, or imagine one where it wasn't.

It had only been a few moments of this when a sudden clarity came over me. In my shock, my mind had blanked, but now a horrible chill washed through my body and my breath caught as the personal gravity of the situation became clear. Mom.

It didn't take conscious effort for my legs to start, and I got to my hooves, starting down the hill. Thoughts about what I could or couldn't do left my mind. All that mattered was making sure she was fine. Maybe I can sneak inside and get her out, I thought desperately. Unfortunately that's as far as I got.

Before I even reached the downward slope, a pair of arms wrapped around my barrel and threw my back. I hit the ground, hard. And looked up at the shape standing over me. I had forgotten that she was with me, seeing the same destruction.

I could have tried to get to my hooves and push past her, but it would have been a waste of time. I was breathing heavy, trying not to direct all of the anguish I was feeling at her, but the truth was at this point she was standing between me and my only chance of saving the only family I had left. And the fact that I knew that physically there was nothing I could do if she wouldn't let me go made it that much worse. I took the only recourse I had, trying and failing to restrain my tone. "Let me go! I have to go find Mom!"

She didn't move an inch, but her tone was enough to restrain me temporarily. "You'll get yourself killed, nothing more. That won't help anypony."

I stood this time and walked a few paces toward her. "I'm not just going to sit idly by while-" lightning fast she had a hoof up under the collar of my vest and pulled me dangerously close. I cowered, my own hooves starting reach up to protect myself, before I saw her eyes. There was something that made me stop struggling, something I'd only seen once or twice before. Tears. Regardless, her voice was unwavering, but rough, as she said, "Listen,-" as she held me up by my collar and stared directly at me from inches away, "there's nothing we can do here. Nothing. There's exactly two ponies we can save right now and one way to do it."

"What...what do we do then?"

She sighed, and looked at the town briefly, before turning back to me. "I told you there was a plan. There's a supply cache not far from here. If we get to it, we should have enough food and water to last a week or so, and munitions."

"It still feels wrong..." I said defeatedly.

She lifted me up tighter and it looked like she was going to snap, but she released me, dropping me to the ground, and let out another sigh. "It's a shitty situation, Orph. Nothing we could have done." She started walking in what I assumed to be the direction of the cache, stopping only long enough to look back and see if I was going to follow.

My house was already gone. My mother's still burning. If there was any resistance left from the townsfolk, I couldn't see it from where I was. Tears were falling silently off my muzzle, no energy for sobbing yet. I looked over to her with resignation, and moved to follow.

She led me down from the hill, in a direction away from the town. I followed, resigned. The terrible sounds faded, too slowly. After some time walking through the trees, we came to a rock-face. Caliber stepped towards a boulder with a few mostly-bare bushes beside it. She cleared away the dry foliage and behind the rock was a small opening, wide and tall enough for a single pony to crawl through. It wasn't especially well-hidden, but this far away from other settlements that must not have been much of a concern. Anyone walking past probably wouldn't have noticed anyway.

"Stay out here," she ordered.

I didn't mind the tone as I dropped down onto my dock and slumped. Why even bother now? What were we going to do? No home left, nowhere for us to go, and anypony who might have helped us was...

No, I couldn't start down that path right now. There wouldn't be any-

-"Fuck!" I heard her yell from inside, accompanying the sound of a metal crash. I crawled over to the opening and went through. The cave was dark and my eyes had not adjusted yet. After a moment the dark shapes came into focus and I saw Callie, huffing, standing over a toppled shelving unit. I would have asked if she needed help getting something off this one too, but it would have wildly inappropriate considering the circumstances.

"It's almost fucking empty!" she yelled at me. My eyes could see now in the small cave, and the floor around the shelf was empty as she said. Shakily I got to my hooves and looked at the rest of the room. It was a small space, only a few bodylengths deep or wide, and most of the rest of the counters, shelves, and boxes around the room looked to be mostly empty at first glance.

She continued cursing and kicking up dirt as she looked through some of the boxes. I moved to the opposite side of the room and mechanically began to look for anything left behind as well. Having something to keep my mind blank was a blessing.

"They must have found it earlier. Fuckers probably used our own ammo against us." I barely heard her, which was just as well. She probably didn't expect a response. I realized that I'd been looking at the same shelf for a few minutes now. There was a dirty cardboard box labeled Sugar Apple Bombs, with a cutesy drawing of a Shadowbolt wing dropping bombs on a group of zebra caricatures. I stared at it a little longer, starting to feel nauseous . I had never seen a bomb go off, the sort they used in the war or otherwise, but my mind conjured up the closest thing. A flash of burning destruction passed through my mind, and forced me to look away. I put a hoof on the shelf to steady myself for a moment before floating the box into a saddlebag.

"What did you find?" she asked, walking up next to me.

"Just a little Pre-War food," I replied.

"That puts us at a week or so of food. Not enough water. Low on ammunition."

"It's not enough, is it?"

"We're wastelanders now. There will never be enough."

After splitting the meager supplies between us, we were left standing there. Neither of us wanted to acknowledge the full impact of what just happened. Even if either of us had fully absorbed it yet. It was the sort of thing, in retrospect, that would hit later on. Just when we thought we were fine, and were going to be fine. But, for now, we stared in different directions. It was I who spoke first.

"What now then?"

It took her a moment to respond, but she did, in a carefully normally tone say, "We can't stay here. We need to keep moving."

I couldn't argue with the reasoning. Even if I felt like arguing with my friend...my last friend-No! I couldn't yet. I couldn't start with that here. If I started thinking those thoughts I would never leave this cave. Or I would by Callie dragging me out by my tail.

Unless she left without me.

It was starting already, these fears and terrors closing in. I had to say something before they started in full. "Alright," I choked out in a small voice. She nodded and began to walk to the entrance, but stopped before leaving.

I got to my hooves slowly again. My eyes were too used to the dark now, and the light from outside seemed blindingly bright. I had spent so long in the dark, in this cave, and it turned out to be empty. Shadows of food and live-giving supplies, while the real thing would be out there somewhere. I stepped towards the entrance, fighting the urge to lie down and stay in place. She nodded when I reached her, and I took my first step in the weak daylight.

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Orphic Tome
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