“Oh come on, this is not fair!”
I kick a stupid rock out of the way as I hurry down yet another slope.
“They said Dust Devils attack desperate and despairing ponies! We were not desperate and despairing! We were super positive! There was bonding and everything! YOU’RE DOING IT WRONG!”
I am Fruit Punch, and my accusations go unanswered.
“And getting hit twice in three days? What’s up with that? Harmony’s sake, you’re supposed to be folklore, not every-bloody-day occurrences!”
I scramble up a stony bank, huffing with indignation and exertion. No sign of Glacier here either.
“And - huff - waiting for the one moment - puff - the one moment aaall day - huff - when I leave her side for like TWO FLAPPIN’ MINUTES!”
My throat is sore. I ignore it.
My legs are tired. I push on.
“That’s just…”
My eyes are moist. I wipe them with a forehoof.
“...just low.”
A patch of loose gravel shifts beneath me. With only three shaky legs on the ground, I'm unable to catch myself in time, and tumble down the slope.
My armour makes an awful racket as it grinds against the rough stone. But it does its job, sparing me the worst of the damage.
“Ow ow owww! Flapping ow!”
But only the worst.
When I come to rest, my muzzle feels like one big bruise, and there’s the taste of blood on my lips.
Scraped my knee something fierce, too. It stings like the dickens.
“Stupid rocks! Stupid sand!”
I don’t have the energy to get up, so I just lay there a while, cursing.
“Stupid desert! Stupid Dust Devils! Stupid Fruit Punch! Stupid, stupid...”
Eventually, cursing gives way to quiet sobbing.
I’ve been shouting and calling and complaining this entire time, ignoring the protests of my parched throat. But I can’t keep it up.
I lie there, feeling completely drained, as the silence closes in about me.
I hate the silence.
Ever since the roar of the Dust Devil faded away, taking my sergeant with it, the desert has seemed unnaturally still.
No movement.
No sound.
No sign of anycreature else.
Just me.
I'm an outgoing pegasus who grew up in a big family. When I joined the Royal Guard I gained an even bigger family. Working with the Harmony Corps only strengthened my sense of community. I’ve been surrounded by other ponies my entire life.
And then, just like that, I'm alone. Utterly, overwhelming alone.
My first instinct was to take to the skies. Hopefully spot Glacier from the air, but more importantly (I felt a pang of guilt at the thought) put some distance between me and the unnervingly empty landscape. As soon as I flexed my wings, however, a spasm of pain shot down my right side. Inspecting your own wings is never easy, but after a few anxious minutes of gingerly flexing and methodically testing, I was reasonably certain I hadn’t broken anything. A nasty sprain most likely, from when the Dust Devil slammed me against the rock.
Thank Harmony I was wearing my helmet, or I could have gotten much worse than just a sprain. A concussion out here could be fatal.
As a pegasus and trained medic, I knew I really should keep off my wing for a few days to let it heal properly. Putting stress on it now would not only hurt, but risk exacerbating the injury. Worst case scenario, I might even cause permanent damage.
But as Glacier’s friend, I couldn’t bear to stay groundbound when she might need my help.
Bracing my wing with bandages from my first aid kit, I attempted a few test flutters. I winced with every flap, but gliding seemed ok, and I could sort of compensate for my right wing by working my left harder. I wouldn’t be quick or agile, but I figured a short flight would be manageable.
Since I was ignoring (my own) medical advice, I decided I might as well break some Royal Guard regulations while I was at it. Off went the heavy golden armour, piece by piece, for the second time today. Nocreature would see me out of uniform out here in the middle of nowhere, and it would make flying a little easier.
One slow, painful ascent later, and the desert was a distant patchwork of orange and brown below me. Mountains to the south, Hoofrest to the north. I think I could just make out Canterlot Spire rising in the distance.
I started to feel a little better. The climb was exhausting, but the wind on my feathers was cool and refreshing. After the stifling heat and limited visibility of the desert floor, I felt alive and free. And seeing evidence of other ponies, however distant, helped alleviate that sense of loneliness. Even if I couldn’t see them from the ground, I had friends not too far away.
But…
“Boss! Sergeant Glacier! Where are youuu?”
...There was still no sign of this particular friend.
Gliding in long, slow arcs to minimise flapping, I swept back and forth over the area the Dust Devil hit. When that produced no results, I went further afield. Flapping faster, climbing higher, pushing my aching wing until the muscles seized up and I was forced to land gracelessly.
Then I just kept going. Legs carrying me where my wings had failed. Wandering at random. All the while shouting myself hoarse.
It was reckless. It was irresponsible. It was only a matter of time till I hurt myself. Honestly, I'm lucky it wasn’t worse.
With a groan, I sit up.
So now here I am, bruised, bleeding, dizzy with exhaustion and worry, and still no sergeant to show for it. I’ve been stubbornly refusing to acknowledge it all this time, but I can’t deny it anymore:
“Fine. I’m... I'm alone. I’m not gonna randomly stumble across Glacier like this. I need to stop running about and… make a plan or something. Think things through.”
I wince as I say it out loud, but I know it's true. I can’t help Glacier if I'm galloping blindly in circles across the desert like a lost foal. Letting my emotions get the better of me.
And before I can help her, I have to help myself. I’ve been out in the sun for hours, flying and running and shouting I'm feeling weak, sick, sore, and disoriented.
My medical training asserts itself: first things first, hydrate myself and cool off.
I hobble over to a nearby ledge. The afternoon sun is angled just enough for it to cast some shade to lie in. I give it a few swishes with my tail to clear out any lurking sandipedes or other creepy crawlies, then gently lower myself down.
Water comes next. Slow, measured mouthfuls. Too much at once and my body won't absorb it all. It can even cause damage.
Then it's time to clean and bandage my wounds. They're nothing serious, a few scrapes and bruises, all superficial. The pain has already subsided to a mere background ache.
Next comes more water. I’ve been sweating horrendously all afternoon, so it’s important I re-hydrate. I dig out a bruised apple from the depths of my saddlebags. I didn’t think I’d be out in the desert so long, so this is the only snack I brought. But it's still a pleasant treat, and it's important to keep up my energy.
I'm feeling much better by the time I finish it.
“Alrighty then.”
No more tantrums or needless risks. I'm a Royal Guard, and a fellow Guard is in danger. I'll do what I have to do, no matter how unpleasant.
“So, I guess my options are: do I keep looking by myself, or do I go back to town and get help?”
Both are quite tempting. I hate the idea of leaving Glacier out here alone, but I also trust the power of teamwork and friendship. With more ponies searching, we’d be sure to find her sooner, right?
“Buuut… how long will that take? It’s like an hour or two to Hoofrest, maybe half that if I fly a bit. But there’s probably not enough ponies there for a search party... So another couple of hours to Tranquility Springs…”
I look up at the sun. It’s still mid afternoon, but the shadows are starting to grow.
“...Even if I flew all the way - which I probably can’t, and definitely shouldn’t - there’s no way I could round up a search party and make it back again before nightfall.”
I'm no expert, but I'm pretty sure it’ll be much harder to find Glacier at night. Not only that, but there’s still the shadow monster out here, and the Dust Devils.
A picture of a dark, roaring wall of sand flashes to mind. My wings ruffle at the memory.
Is it even safe to bring a search party out here? I’d be putting even more ponies in danger.
“On the other hoof, I suppose that applies to me, too. Staying out here with no backup is risky. Shadow monsters, sandipedes, dehydration, rocks… And I guess if something happens to me, there’ll be nopony to help Glacier. But on the other other hoof, if it’s so risky can I really just leave her by herself for so long? Heat stroke can set in in just a few hours... Aauugh, why is this so hard?!”
Why couldn’t the Dust Devil have grabbed me instead? I'm just a private. A grunt. I'm not supposed to make decisions!
Normally when I get stuck with a really hard problem, I rely on my friends or coworkers. But that’s not an option this time.
Or… is it?
I recall the speech given by Princess Twilight at my class’s graduation. Seeing the Princess Herself talk about the power of friendship made a huge impression on me. I clearly remember the event, even now, years later, though I can never remember her exact words. Something about...
"I may not be able to speak to my friends right now... But I can have faith in them."
I slowly rise to my hooves, determination building within.
“I… I can’t help you right now, Glacier, but I can trust you. You’re tough, you’re smart, you’re a big scary monster hunter! You’ll be ok until I get back, I’m sure of it!”
I have faith, too, that my friends the good ponies of Hoofrest and Tranquility Springs will be there for me. That together we can find Glacier without putting any other ponies at risk.
It's decided, then. The Magic of Friendship always steers me right.
Confidently, with a small smile on my face, I start marching north up the hill. I feel reinvigorated (if still a little sore and stiff).
At the summit I pause. Glance over my shoulder. The desert continues south, rows of hills piling up higher and higher until they reach the mountains. The nearest hill just a few hundred hooves away. I can't stop the thought creeping into my mind: “What if she’s just over that next hill? If you don’t check now, she could be dead by the time you return.”
Without any conscious thought I’ve turned around, taken a half step back the way I came.
“No.”
I screw my eyes shut, pressing my wings tightly against my sides.
“Stop it, Private Punch. That kind of thinking’s just gonna drive you crazy. Or get you killed. Or drive you crazy and then get you killed. Just… complete your mission. It’s the best chance Glacier’s got.”
The thought steadies me, but only a little. The temptation to stop and check just one more hill continues its siren song in the back of my mind.
I take a deep breath, turn around, and continue marching down the hill.
Keep your mind on what you have to do next: Get to Tranquility Springs. Talk to the sheriff, round up a search party. Send a distress message to the nearest Royal Guard outpost. Maybe one to Canterlot too, in case Appleloosa’s detachment is still MIA. Stop at Hoofrest on the way. Will need to rest and resupply, and let the locals know what happened. And hey, maybe Glacier will find her way back on her own, in which case Hoofrest is the first place she’d look for me. She may even be there now!
I know I shouldn’t push my aching body any more, but I can’t resist one last flight. A final look around the desert, and the promise of arriving at Hoofrest that much sooner; it's gotta be worth the discomfort.
Slowly, stiffly, favouring my left wing as much as I can, I flap my way up out of the dust bowl. There’s a deep seated, pulsing ache at the base of my right wing, and my left is starting to cramp up from overuse. But I'm up here now, and can hopefully glide from thermal to thermal with relative ease.
Ahead of me lies a small, irregular jumble of tiny squares: Hoofrest. I angle towards it, and cast an eye over the desert one last time.
No Dust Devils. No mysterious figure. No Glacier.
“Just hang on, Glace. I’ll be right back. With friends.”