//------------------------------//
// Prologue 
// Story: Come the rain 
// by some weird guy 
//------------------------------//

	A gray colt stumbled about in the mud. Barely conscious, he absorbed the scene around him: crimson flames rising up to devour his small village, neighbors fleeing, screaming in panic and agony, and rain; rain that did nothing to sate the seemingly endless hunger of the smokeless embers that clung desperately to anything within reach. What's more, the fire gave off no heat. Why? They were not small, nor were they far away. So why is it that he instead could only feel creeping ice from the rain? 
The strain was becoming too much, his soaked wings carved into the blackened sludge below, slowing his progress and throwing off his balance. His hoof sunk and gave way, giving way to gravity. Soon, everything appeared to be sprouting from some oversized wall on his left. Lids threatening to hide his frosty blue eyes, he willed himself to twist his head enough to look straight ahead. Beyond the inky strands of mane, he could see another pony that stood out among the rest. A unicorn, jet-black and smoldering with red flames himself, yet he seemed undisturbed by the whole scene. His ashen hooves stopped mid track, as though feeling the young one's eyes upon him; he began to turn, his razor edge horn threatening to pierce the heavens' night. The last thing the colt saw were two blood soaked eyes, that seemed better suited on a dragon, rest firmly upon his own. Darkness swiftly followed.

~~~

If there was one thing I hated the most after having that dream, it was the headache of waking up. No, not the shaking, not the cold sweat or the shortness of breath, but the migraines that came after. That pulsing, vice grip always left me a little disoriented in the morning, like waking up from a thirteen year slumber. It took me a moment to realize that I was still on the Iron Feather, my boss’ personal airship, and sailing about fifteen hundred feet above the ocean belo— wait. Something’s not right. Looking out the window, I should be seeing the endless deep blue. So why can I see the coastline?
“Looks like you finally woke up. About time too, the little noises you were making were becoming annoying.”
Turning to the door, I saw an impressive, clay brown minotaur with a half an eaten apple in one hand, and a whole in the other.
“Stonewall. Don’t you have anything better to do than raid the fridge in the morning?” I asked while simultaneously rubbing the sleep from my eyes.
A loud yawn from my mouth barely covered the crunch that came from Stonewall’s as he finished his apple.
“For your information, I wasn’t just stuffing my face in the kitchen. I needed a moment, and not just from you. I needed a moment to think.”
“You… think? Wow, we could have a potentially dangerous situation on board if you ever pulled that one off successfully.”
His toned body seemed to actually bounce a bit as he let himself drop onto a seat opposite of mine. I could also swear the whole ship tilted ever so slightly with his impact.
“Hey now, I’m being serious here!”
Leaning forward on my chair, I decided to hear him out. Not very many times that the muscle bound minotaur decides to grace someone with his innermost thoughts. 
“Alright then,” I stated, resting my head on my hoof, “let’s hear it.”
"I think… this is gonna be my last tour."
Whoa, didn’t expect that.
"So what then, you're just going to grab your savings and go retire on the countryside or something? Gonna spend your days gallivanting with the sheep in the meadows?" I teased.
"No, nothing like that!”
“No? then you’re gonna hide in a cave, or a hut or something, like a hermit the rest of your life?”
“I don’t know yet, maybe? Look, all I’m saying is that I’m, well, I'm tired of doing' this whole gig. I've been at this a lot longer than you have, and let me tell you, it really wears a guy out. I just want to do something for myself that doesn’t leave others sad, or heart broken, or homeless… you know?"
"…Yeah."
The only sound that could be heard for a few seconds was the wind passing by the window outside. I could see things were getting moody pretty fast and decided to go ahead and touch on the lighter side of things.
"Okay, say you go ahead with this retirement thing, where are you going to go?"
"Well… you weren’t that far off when you said 'retire on the countryside' earlier. You see, I got a cousin that actually tends to a farm on a small private plot back home. I was planning to see if he could take me in and, kinda, well, teach me the tools of the trade." He finished a little red in the face.
"You, a farmer?" I replied skeptically.
"Well yeah."
"Okay, and what do you plan on growing?"
"Potatoes!" Stonewall replied, suddenly very proud of himself. 
"Potatoes?" I echoed.
"Yup!" he reassured. "It's good honest work, not like what we got here. Everybody seems keen on lying to each other, from the guys who hire us to our own boss! You can't say I'm making it up either! When we were brought into the fold, one of the first things Talon told us was ‘don’t ever give your real names. Names, history, everything, keep it secret at all times and lie if you have to.’ But if you want a more immediate example, just look out the window. I'm sure you must've noticed by now that we're no longer headed in the right direction."
That’s right. Earlier when I looked out the window, I saw the coastline. A quick look back out and I saw small villages, almost like settlements really. This wasn’t home. What's more, we were headed further inland, deeper into foreign land. This made no sense at all. We were told, we were promised…
"Hey, Stonewall, where the heck are we?" I mumbled with eyes still transfixed on the shifting plains below.
"We turned around and headed back." he replied, clearly annoyed with the situation.
"What?" I snapped my head back to face him. "But Talon said we were going home for Hearth's Warming.”
"I know." replied Stonewall, shaking his head at the floor.
“He said we were gonna get a well earned vacation after spending six months on the front lines!" I added.
“I said ‘I know’ already. You think I can’t hear you?” He replaced the placid look he usually wore for a more irritated one. “How about you calm down for a moment and—“
I continued regardless. 
"Talon told us all that we deserved it after all the stuff we'd seen and all the crap we went through. He said—"
"DAMMIT, COMET, I KNOW!" bellowed Stonewall, reducing his half eaten apple into a pulpy mess. He locked a look of frustration on me and held it for some time before continuing. "I know, alright? I was there along with everyone else. Trust me; you weren't the only one looking forward to this break. I myself was looking forward to a little time off to get things going with my cousin, but clearly that's going to have to wait."
I let myself relax a little as Stonewall regained his composure and continued, wiping away the mess on his hand.
"Look," he gave a quick sigh. "I don't want to jump to conclusions just yet. We still don't know the reason as to why we got turned around. Maybe it’s a good one, maybe he— maybe…" 
But Stonewall couldn't finish that statement. Maybe he couldn't think of anything, or maybe he didn't want to. Either way, he lost his chance to speak as soon as she walked in. 
“I thought I heard something… annoying in here.” She swiftly locked her sapphire eyes on mine. 
“Firecracker. To what do we owe this pleasant surprise” asked Stonewall, leaning back and crossing his legs.
Firecracker snapped a cherry red wing in Stonewall’s direction and stole his second apple, biting off a chunk without ever shifting her gaze.
“Hey!” protested Stonewall, his short chocolate mohawk bobbing as he suddenly sat upright.
“It’s the boss,” she began, ignoring the brooding minotaur. “He wants to see us all in five minutes, says it’s important.”
“Oh, yeah,” I retorted. “Where at?”
“The War Room.” she replied, taking another bite. “I thought I’d come down here and personally fill you in, ‘cause I’m just such a nice pony. You should appreciate me more, you know. You have no idea how good you've got it!”
“Yeah, you’re right!” I leaned back in my seat and placed my hooves upon a small table before me. “I mean, what kind of guy wouldn't want to wake up to three sticks of dynamite, lit, and six inches from their face?”
“Tch! That was once!” she defended. “Besides, you didn't die, did you? No, and you still got to keep your pretty face as a bonus!”
“Oh yeah?” I challenged. “What about when you used me for bait to draw out the Sours of Discord gang, huh? Did you know that I spent three months in a Joustian prison camp? Am I ever going to hear an apology for that one?”
Firecracker snapped her wing for a second time, hurtling the half ingested apple towards my head. I managed to catch it with my own wing before she flicked her silver streaked black mane from her right eye.
“Just don’t be late.” she grunted before swiftly exiting.
“…My apple...” Stonewall suddenly pouted.
Tossing him the apple, I took the ends of my hooves and rubbed my temples a bit to relieve the newfound stress.
“Uh… thanks…” Stonewall replied with a twisted face.
Daintily holding the apple by the stem, he gave his wrist one quick flick, sending the apple soaring into a nearby trash bin.
“What’s the matter, another headache? I thought you only got those after waking up?”
“No.” I sighed. “They’re not exclusive to mornings. Heck, a majority of the time, it doesn't even happen at all! “
“Really, so, what sets them off?”
Dreams. Memories. “No— nothing, really. They tend to just happen at random.”
“Huh,” Stonewall’s eyebrows arched a little. “Must be rough when it does happen. So, ever wish it would stop?”
Every time. “I… learned to deal with it. No use crying over something you can’t control, ya know?”
“…All too well.” Stonewall replied, getting up from his seat. A quick stretch, followed by some joint pops, he turned to face the door before continuing. “Firecracker said ‘five minutes.’ We already used up one, and the War Room’s about three minutes from here. I’m gonna pass by the kitchen first though, gonna grab a fresh apple. Wanna come with?”
“Nah. I think I’ll spend my minute here.”
“Suit yourself.” A short wave was the last thing he offered me. “See ya in a bit.”
And with that, he left. For a whole minute I sat there motionless. I don’t know what I expected to happen. Maybe I hoped I was still dreaming and that any moment I would wake up to find myself in a comfy bed with a normal life with normal problems. Maybe I expected someone to come in and say something like: “Good news, Comet! We’re finally going home! This time, for good! You will never be asked to do anything like what you've done again! Plus, we’re closing down the contracting business as a bonus!” Maybe I just wanted to stay there, forgotten and alone, that way I wouldn't have to go out and hurt others the way I do. I would wait until everyone left, and then, I would steal the airship and fly off to who knows where. I don’t know, and to be honest, it was all exhausting to think about. The only thing I did know for certain though was that my minute was up, and I was late for a meeting.