Nine - A Pinprick of Light
Sparks walked the dimly-lit hallway, keeping his head down and his eyes alert. It was a dark place, the moist air cold despite the tropical outdoor weather. Even for an ancient ruin, the prison had a fairly simple design. There were a few interweaving hallways, two different stairways and a hoofful of torches dotting the walls. In the particularly dim corridors, Sparks was forced to use his horn to light the way. His mind, body and magic were severely exhausted, but if he didn’t follow Sure Shot’s every last order, he would face a punishment no pony would be able to recover from. The promises the purple stallion had made drove the unicorn forward, and he hoped that all of this would end soon. However, there was something that had been bothering the stallion; a question that he was on his way to have answered.
The unicorn turned a dark corner, doing his best to pass two large doors under the ascending ceiling. But he couldn’t help but flinch when he heard a crash, followed by a muffled scream. He winced, telling himself to move forward and ignore it. Just keep walking, just keep walking, he thought to himself. Sparks lifted a forehoof and forced himself to trot on by, closing his eyes momentarily at the sound of another agonized cry.
“That’s it,” he said under his breath, breaking into a full gallop away from the sounds and the doors. His quickened hoofsteps echoed off the stone walls, and he opened his eyes to turn another corner at the other end of the hall. He skidded to a halt in front of an open threshold, looking into a small room with nothing but a single makeshift table. Sparks remembered being ordered to craft it with his limited supply of magic, using only the sticks and vines he could find in the jungle surrounding the temple.
Around the table were three ponies: Gun Powder, Sure Shot and the earth mare that had done well to keep herself quiet. The black stallion shot him an annoyed glance, snorting a breath out of his nostrils. The green earth mare gave him the briefest of looks, her expression similar. Sure Shot, however, raised his eyebrows, quirking a small grin as he gestured for the unicorn to walk in.
“Sparks, there you are. How are you enjoying our current accommodations?” the riflepony asked jubilantly, as if they were about to start opening gifts on Hearth’s Warming Eve.
“They’re…dark, to say the least,” he replied uneasily.
“You’ve got a horn, don’t ya’?” Gun Powder scoffed, rolling his eyes. If Sparks had anything left, he would have entertained the idea of telling the stallion just where to shove his moronic remark.
“I need to talk to you, sir,” said the unicorn, dodging the gazes of the other two ponies in the dimly-lit room.
Sure Shot nodded, gesturing for Gun Powder and the mare to leave. Neither of them said a word as they complied, obediently exiting the room. The black stallion, however, didn’t leave without intentionally bumping into Sparks, who could barely keep himself standing as it was.
“Take a seat, Sparky. Tell me what’s on your mind,” said his boss, pointing to the stool that the mare previously occupied. The unicorn obeyed, thankful to sit down after such a long day. He slumped atop the stool, resting his forelegs on the tabletop in front of him. “Still tired, huh? I do apologize for having to utilize your talents so often lately. But I assure you, it was for the best.”
Something about the purple stallion made Sparks lift his head to attention, quirking an eyebrow at him. “You seem rather happy tonight.”
“And why wouldn’t I be?” Sure Shot smirked, leaning back and folding his forelegs. “We are mere hours from obtaining the information we came here for. Not only that, but I am very satisfied with our new ally. He has proven to be quite formidable.”
“Hours?” Sparks asked worriedly. “H-How do you figure that?”
Sure Shot snorted. “Let’s be realistic here; Daring Do is a strong, intelligent mare. But what pony can honestly deal with much more of this pain? I’m willing to bet that she’ll be singing like a canary soon enough and we can take our next step.”
Sparks cringed at his words, praying to Celestia that the other stallion didn’t see it. Thankfully, the earth pony seemed to be more interested in his rifle, which leaned against the table next to him. He adjusted its position slightly with a hoof before looking back to the unicorn.
“So,” Sure Shot continued. “What did you need to talk to me about?”
His unusual jubilant attitude was almost frightening to the exhausted unicorn. He chose his words carefully, hoping that the riflepony wouldn’t snap without warning again. “I-I was curious about something. You want Braeburn Apple on our side, right?”
“You’re wondering why I’ve been sending ponies to kill him if such a thing is true, correct?” he replied, the unicorn unsurprised by his deduction. Sparks simply nodded, sitting up straighter now. “Well I’m glad that you have been observant. It tells me that you are not a mindless pawn like most of my recruits. But I digress. Yes, one of my goals here is to have Braeburn Apple shooting for me. However, he is not a pony one can simply bribe or threaten. He is a pure stallion, so I need to take an alternative method of action.”
“So…having him killed is the way to go?”
“No, telling my soldiers to do so is,” Sure Shot corrected. “There is indeed a difference. I have my confidence in the Colt of the West. He wouldn’t be taken out by such incompetent grunts.”
Sparks snapped to attention, his spine cracking as he rose. His eyes widened as he furrowed his brow, realizing what the riflepony had done. “You…You sent Blue Streak and the Windburg pegasi to their deaths…on purpose? Why in Equestria would you do that?!”
“Calm down, Sparky,” Sure Shot chuckled, as if his horrid deeds were no worse than a frivolous shoplifting. “As I said, they were mere pawns in this little game of ours.”
The unicorn’s bravery rose to life in his appalled state of mind. “What is the purpose of killing those who have sworn their loyalties to you? Especially if you’re trying to recruit the pony you sent them to kill?”
“Have you not been paying attention? I do believe that I remarked upon Braeburn’s integrity. He will not be won over like Blue Streak or the Windburgs. No, with a pony like him, I need to utilize the art of psychology. In a similar manner to how dear Ahuitzotl is extracting information from Daring Do, I will need to break his spirit for him to do my bidding. It’s actually quite simple once you break down the process. He knows who is sending these ponies to quote-unquote ‘kill’ him, and with every one he takes down, he will hate me a little more.”
“And in the case that one of your ‘soldiers’ accomplishes the task you set for them, what then?” asked Sparks.
“They won’t,” Sure Shot replied confidently, brushing a hoof on his black vest. “And in the highly unlikely case that they do, it would just mean that I would have to work a little harder to find what I am looking for. It wouldn’t be the largest inconvenience in the world.”
“Okay, fine. So what happens when he finds you filled with the hate that you instilled in him?”
Sure Shot smirked. “I will turn that hate against him, and tear his spirit in two. You shall see in time, my friend.”
“More secrets, huh? Is there a reason that you haven’t trusted any of us with the knowledge of just what we’re doing?” Sparks demanded, his dreary mind unwilling to allow him to control his emotions. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the makeshift table.
“For the pay everypony will be receiving, and the freedom that you will be granted, what does it matter what the goal is? Or do you wish for me to dump you back on the streets to be immediately placed on death row?”
“No, no that’s-”
“Or I could just kill you now,” the purple stallion interjected, placing his rifle on the table between them.
“No, really it’s not-”
"I mean, it would be much easier.”
“Please, I’m not-”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes! I mean no!” Sparks stammered, looking around to find himself on his hooves, backing away from the table like a frightened dog. “I mean…I’m on your side, sir. I didn’t mean to make you think otherwise.”
“Well good,” Sure Shot replied, sheathing the rifle on his back again. “Now I’m fairly certain that Ahuitzotl is almost done. Make sure you’re ready to heal our guest.”
The blue unicorn nodded meekly, turning around to exit the room with his tail between his legs.
As if he didn’t have enough unanswered questions buzzing around his mind like a veritable cloud of angry hornets, Braeburn now faced even more just from the past few hours. His life had indeed been saved, but at the cost of an overwhelming thought bearing down on his already withered thoughts. He had hoped, even wished to be able to sleep that night, but with his brain constantly running on overdrive, it was next to impossible. To his surprise, he never even cast a single thought to the ponies they threw overboard, without so much as a hope to return to shore safely. Even when he recalled the event, Braeburn felt uneasy realizing that he found no compassion for the brother and sister.
Over a year ago, Braeburn would have been physically sick over bringing any sort of harm to another living creature. It may have been better if he had been through some kind of traumatic event, but that simply wasn’t the case. Even though his life was on the line, the once kind stallion wouldn’t imagine pointing a weapon at another pony. But now, it was different. He didn’t feel anything but apathy for those that once threatened him, and that alone was enough to frighten him. What was he becoming? Was he even comparable to the Braeburn that once was? Change was one thing; simple and easy to adapt to. This, however, was something completely different. Braeburn liked who he was; humble, kind, compassionate, although easily frightened at times. He was comfortable and happy, even if his life was monotonous at times.
But in the end, he had nopony to blame but himself. He made his own choices to arrive in the place that he was, even if the world around him threw Braeburn a curve ball. He had no control over what Sure Shot did, but it could very well have been somepony else worrying about it. It was a pipe dream at best, but one that he wished was reality. All in all, it wasn’t exactly an apple farmer’s job to thwart a bandit leader. But then again, Braeburn wasn’t so much a farmer anymore, but a riflepony. Braeburn opened his eyes again, anxiously throwing aside the right side of his duster to peak at his own flank. He let out a long sigh to see the same old red apple contrasting against his light tan coat in the pale moonlight.
“What, you think your cutie mark ran away or something?” came a low, female voice. Braeburn didn’t need to turn around to see Day Break pacing to his side, her wild dual-toned crimson mane blowing in the cool night air. She stood aside him, looking forward and off the front end of the airship’s maintenance dock.
“These days, Ah wouldn’t be surprised,” he replied solemnly, returning his gaze to the moon high above.
“Word of the wise: cutie marks don’t change after they appear,” she said, her lips tilting into a small grin.
“Duly noted,” said Braeburn flatly. “So why are ya’ up here? Somethin’ wrong?”
Day Break lowered her eyelids in a humorless expression. “You’re standing on top of a darned airship at night in the Fall. You’ve been quiet all day, and now you’re up here. I don’t know if you know this, but it’s kinda cold outside.”
Braeburn only blinked, looking down to the splintered wood beneath his hooves. He hadn’t noticed it before, but the entire day flew by in his somber contemplation. After the shootout, he hadn’t done a thing save for a quick nap and a short, uncomfortable conversation with Artemis. The rest of the day had been devoted to melancholy silence while his father conversed with Day Break as if nothing had happened.
“Did something happen after that…well, altercation?” asked the mare, tilting her head at him. “You and your father didn’t say a single word to each other since.”
“Don’t worry ‘bout it,” Braeburn immediately responded, ready for the question before it came.
Day Break recoiled slightly at the speed of his reply, furrowing her brow. “You seem pretty set on not talking about it.”
“And you’d be right.”
“So why’s that?” she countered, inching her head toward him in interest.
“Fer a pony whose best friend might be dead, ya’ seem to be in a pretty good mood,” Braeburn replied gravely, doing his best to evade her questioning.
“And for a pony that survived being pushed off an airship, you seem to be in a pretty bad mood,” she returned with a smirk. “Now tell me why.”
Braeburn exhaled through his nose, raising a forehoof to rub his temple, pushing his Stetson to one side. He pushed the hat back onto his head, and turned to face the curious mare next to him. “Day Break, Ah appreciate yer concern, Ah really do. But Ah’ve done a whole lotta talkin’ and not enough actin’ lately. Talkin’ won’t help me, you, Daring, or anypony else.”
“Well you and your father did a lot of acting today already.”
“Yeah, and we got even more to do once we get to Mesoequestria,” he said flatly.
“Is that what’s got your tail in a twist?” she replied with a dash of snark. “Look, with you two rifleponies on our side, there’s no way Ahuitzotl-”
“It’s not just Ahuitzotl,” Braeburn shot back. “We told ya’, Sure Shot has to be there. If Daring knows somethin’ ‘bout what he wants, then Ah can’t imagine him not doin’ anything he could to find out about it. And if Sure Shot’s there, then his gang is there, too. So not only do we have an immortal to fight, we have the most feared bandit leader and his followers to boot. So yeah, Ah’m a little bit edgy right now.”
“’Edgy’ isn’t really the term I’d use for you right now,” she chided.
“Fergive me, Day Break, but ya’ seem awfully calm right now,” said Braeburn, sidestepping her sarcasm. “S’pecially considering the state we met ya’ in.”
“Oh, so you’re a detective now,” Day Break mused. “No wonder Daring has the hots for you.”
“Day Break,” he replied, his tone resolute despite his heart throbbing at her words. “Do me a favor, and please don’t dodge the question.”
“Says the one dodging all of my questions.”
“Day Break,” Braeburn repeated, growing more and more impatient. He said nothing more, and simply allowed his level expression to do the talking. The pegasus in front of him shivered in the cold, but thankfully didn’t use the climate to parry his question once again. She pursed her lips, keeping her eyes on his. After a beat or two, she looked back toward the dark expanse of moon-washed sea, her usual snarky grin replaced by a genuine, wistful smile.
“I grew up in the poorest district of Fillydelphia. It was a place where dreams and aspirations go to die. Even the foals had a hard time grasping the idea of life goals. A long time ago, I had a dream that I knew I could never fulfill. I was a young filly, only eight years old at the time. I wanted to have adventure in my life, to uncover ancient secrets and the like. In short, I wanted to escape the poverty-stricken city that I grew up in. Even then I knew it was a stupid dream, but there was another filly that had the same dream, but was a lot more hopeful than I was. I met her and her parents when they were visiting the historical sites of the downtown district. She was a lively young filly, full of hope and a longing to learn everything.”
“There a point to all o’ this?”
“Hey, pipe down. I’m trying to open up here,” Day Break huffed, not pausing before continuing her story: “Her parents were kind enough to let me show them the city. While we walked around the usual tourist attractions in the nicer parts of Fillydelphia, I immediately made friends with the filly. It was amazing to me. I didn’t exactly have any friends to speak of before her, so I enjoyed every second I could with her. She was friendly, kind, intelligent, and funny. Her parents were just the same; a mother and father that cared more for their daughter than anypony else could. They were ponies that I didn’t have, and I couldn’t handle them leaving at the end of that amazing day. I tried not to beg for them to stay, but it’s pretty hard for an eight year old to hide her feelings.”
“Ya’ didn’t have yer own parents to get home to?” Braeburn asked sincerely, delving himself into the story.
“None that cared,” she scoffed. “But anyway, her parents pulled me aside so their daughter couldn’t hear, and asked me if I was homeless. I told them I wasn’t, but that I wasn’t exactly a fan of my home either. Smolder was too young to venture out on her own like I did at the time, but she had similar feelings. But even as a filly, I was too proud to let others pity me over my own problems. I left before any of them could say another word, and locked myself in my room when I got home. I woke up the next day to hear somepony knocking on my door. I opened it to see the filly from the day before, wearing a bright smile.”
Day Break paused for a beat, her eyes unfocused and her lips curled into a contemplative smile. “Her parents had such large hearts…they took me for a flight in this very airship, saying it was ‘the least they could do for such a good tour guide.’ Neither me nor my new friend could fly just yet, so it was nice to be able to be in the air as if we could. They showed me an incredible day; one that I’ll never forget.”
“Ah’m sorry, Day Break. But…why are ya’ tellin’ me this?” asked Braeburn.
The mare looked back to him again, still wearing that wistful smile. “Because that day the filly and I talked about our dreams, and the goals that we shared. She told me that she was going to become an archaeologist like her father, and that they had an expedition outside of the country that weekend. To me, it was like that filly was living my dream. I was a little jealous, and I admitted it to them. And do you know what her father asked me?”
Braeburn only tilted his head ever so slightly, now fully engaged in her recollection.
“He smiled at me like I was his own daughter, and asked me a question that changed the way I looked at the world forever: ‘what is the most important attribute of an archaeologist?’ And when I didn’t have an answer, he said-”
“Faith,” Braeburn finished for her, almost under his breath.
Day Break snorted. “Seems like that same filly gave you something to think about too.”
“Yeah, Ah guess she did,” he replied simply.
“So do you understand me now?” she asked, her hopeful expression unwavering.
Braeburn nodded once, squinting into the darkness to find a black mass on the horizon line. It was wide and flat, only rising in the center. He watched it grow steadily larger with every passing moment. They were getting closer to the island, and the sun hadn’t even begun to rise yet. At their current rate of speed, they would be arriving at their destination within the next few hours. “Ah can understand yer way of dealin’ with all o’ this, but Ah have my own way right now.”
“And what way is that?” asked the pegasus, her wings flapping once as if to keep themselves warm.
Braeburn turned on a hoof, walking back toward the rear of the maintenance dock. He stopped before he approached the top of the ladder, turning his head to take a sidelong glance at Day Break.
“With a whole lotta anger.”
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BRAEBURN SMASH!
Nuuuuuuuuuuu! Don't turn to the darkside Brae!
Which of course means, in the interest of good story telling, please go to the darkside, even though we'll all hate it.
1855239
I know, right
Ah came here to eat apples and to buck ass... and Ah'm all outta apples.
Stay good, Braeburn!
Yes... I see how Sure Shot is gonna get brea on his side. Oh yeah. Damn near kill his love interest and kill him in the process as well. Seems like the greatest idea ever! Its not like, you know, breaburn would shoot Sure Shot dead center in the forehead the moment he sees him or anything... oh no. I myself would kill damn near anything that moved to save her... but thats just me.
Ohh no I for see a starwars moment going along the lime of "brae I am your father" said sure shot
Or maby I am your uncle or sure shot was trained by braes dad or braes dad traind him or even bigger twist sure shot is braes brother
Or last but not least none of the above and I'm just crazy
Braeburn - Excuse me, I've got tables that need ah flippin'
Even though it was short I enjoyed this chapter a lot. I'm starting to like this Sparks character and hope he gets a good (as in not evil) role later on.
1855295 Heh, "Buck ass." Heh. *Snrk* Heh.
Always angry. All the time.
Okay, any story that involves Braeburn with a gun I have to look at.
Fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate, hate leads to suffering. Oh God, he's already at the second stage!
1855750 Thanks to your avatar, I'm imagining Braeburn kicking down the door and screaming "EXTERMINATE!"
Oh god be careful Braeburn, you are closer to Sure Shot than you think
Well done I am looking forward to the next chapter, please stay good Brae. 
or you do turn please come back to us.
I don't know if it's just me, but I'm getting rather bored of this story; everything that I am reading can be summed up with "Braeburn feels sorry for himself, and then has a moment of action, and then feels sorry for himself some more". I apologize if I sound rude and/or angry, but I am a little disappointed- Treasure in the West was a great story, and this is just not as good. Sorry.
Ok, Sure Shot is now Emperor Palpatine. And I mean from the I-III movies. The reaaaaaaaaaally annoying movies... with minichlorides or whatever the fuck they were called.
His 'plan' is so insane the only way it would work is if some god from beyond the fabric of reality actively makes sure events fall into place and takes control of all the characters' minds and makes sure they're all incompetent morons. *glares*
I mean, good god, by this point anyone working for him must know that they're completely expendable and none of them can trust him. No one works for someone like that. Especially not hardened criminals who tend to turn on each other rather easily when they sense the slightest little trace of betrayal.
The first story had the silly overly complicated traps and all that... so much so I was expecting a joke at the end, some rusty screen door hanging open behind the little box of treasure with a note that said, "If you'd bothered reading the back of my gun, you'd see the note to use the backdoor. Trolololo! -CotW"
But I carried on, and somehow thought this would be better...
Nope. This has gone as over-the-top now as "Wild WIld West". I can't take it anymore.
I personally think Sure Shot is the true master of Plans that will totally not work unless something insane went down
-RageCake- Gamer, Ultimate cake rager, Proud Troll, that one idiot from the MDA
the one pony sure shot may or may not have factored into his plans seems to be bullet time imo
Still loving it, keep it up.
Haters don't understand pacing, it seems.
Screw 'em, I love a good melancholy character drama, even if it's only for a moment in the story.
Join the darkside! Be like your father! We also have cookies.
Stay away from the dark side Brae! The cookies are stale!
I think it's brilliant how well you're allowing the character to develop in between the action sequences. I found it especially gripping how you bring Braeburn to terms with his rapidly changing demeanor and newfound apathy, as opposed to how he used to be.
One can only imagine if he'll be the same pony by the end of all of this. (Truth be told, I don't think a sad ending would be all that bad for this kind of story)
---turn off intelligent sounding comment---
YOUR STORY IS GOOD AND YOU SHOULD FEEL GOOD. I demand more.
i await the day that you update with an immeasurable impatience... but take your time and use it to write your heart out!
anyways thanks for the chapter and producing so many starwars references in your comments section
1908230 *nods* And life just doesn't happen that way. There is zero rationale for Sure Shot to think Braeburn will even join his side other than flat-out mind control, in which case he doesn't need to bother waiting, so it still wouldn't make sense.
In the REAL world, no one ever joins up with the one trying to kill them and their loved ones. It just doesn't happen. Sure Shot's belief is what I'd expect of a raving lunatic, such as those psycho celebrity stalkers who think killing their idol will make them love them forever somehow. Yet he doesn't have any of the other characteristics of a lunatic. Rather, he's a criminal mastermind with an unbelievable line of fortune favoring his plans, which often depend on multiple coincidences (the successes of which could only be logically explained by his having some supernatural being aiding him on the sly).
Please, for the love of Celestia, PLEASE! I want some more of this story, I read both the treasure in the West and Coft of the West in the same day, and I absolutely love them both!
Can't wait to read more
I was very happy with this chapter. It addressed every concern I had from the last chapter (Brae getting a little dark, Sure Shot's plan). I don't know what Sure Shot's plan is and I do get the whole "join the dark side" vibe, but give DiveBomb a chance. Maybe Sure Shot is looking for an all powerful mind control artifact powered by hatred of the user? Who knows (other than DiveBomb), just be happy to take the ride!
I expect more.
Soon.
VERY SOON.
....if you're alright with that...
I can almost hear Sure Shot saying somewhere in next chapters
"Luke I'm your father!""Brae I'm your brother!" while cackling maniacally.But seriously - thank you for amazing dilogy!
Oh ho ho! Sure Shot's plan is already working! Excellent writing there, I hope we can compare villains one day for our respective stories. But then again you probably get asked that a lot, so it's a wish and naught more on my part. Keep up the writing sir, it kept me away from video gaming.