The Bull Of The North

I didn't stay outside for too much longer, considering that I wasn't completely insane and I had a feeling that if I waited any longer out near the river, for example, a dragon riding a buffalo carrying a hellhound would ride over.

Or something unpleasant, anyway, but I didn't give myself much time to think about new and fascinating ways for the world to screw with me, preferring to grab my new book with my magic and pulling it close to me. I then made my way to the front of the house, ignoring the confused looks that the local seapony and the filly on top of her were giving me as I walked passed them.

I didn't bother looking up, and I didn't want to, either.

In fact, I didn't think I really saw anything as I made my way to the front of the house, but that wasn't really important, now was it? The scenery wasn't different from before, the house was still the same as it was a few days ago, and the only new addition of note was some cow painting the riverside red.

The front door was unlocked, like it should have been, and the gate that surrounded the house stopped near the river, so I just let myself in with a huff.

But the only important detail I could think of, really, was that Ever Watchful was sitting around in the parlor, leaning forward with arms outstretched and hands clenched, waiting for me.

"Watchful, why are there two mythical creatures outside?" I said perkily, walking over to the sulky big guy.

He raised his head, and because of the lighting I could just barely make out his face. All in all, he was still a little intimidating to me; actually, no, he was still pretty scary. Even if he did have the personality of a whipped dog and was completely nonthreatening, he was still easily twice again bigger then any stallion I have known and had a pair of horns that looked like he could skewer a pony on each one. I pulled a bullet out of him once, though, and that counted for something. He was made of flesh and bone like anypony else.

"Blueberry, neither of them want to hurt us and at least one of them is going with us." he said, sounding strained. Well, from at this angle, he boomed. I was a little fearful of what he would sound like if he screamed, frankly. He was just a breath's away from rattling the glassware on the table.

"Which one, the cannibal seahorse or the bat pony?" I said with false cheer. "I think you need to narrow it down a little, bec-"

"I mean Umbra." he said, sitting up and raising his arms in exasperation. Taking a pause, a remorseful look passed over his face. "The bat pony's name is Umbra, and she has friends in the Reavers."

"Oh, well, that's great." I said flatly. "I mean, is that all? Then tell me, how does Candy Cane know her?"

His expression turned into one of worry, and it seemed like he was trying his best to pay attention to the ceiling.

"I wanted you to talk to her, actually. She's a friend of Nightcore's, and I haven't actually gotten the chance to speak with her about anything."

I was appealed. "Really! Are you scared of her or something, she's like, half your-"

"Yes!" he hissed, raising his voice as he sat up just enough to look over me. "She's the one that attacked me in the docking bay!"

"Wait, what? Hold on, you..." I tried to think back to what I remembered about what was going on two days ago, and I frowned. "She did that? And you didn't tell me?"

"Blueberry, you were still angry about Candy Cane, and when you found me you were in one of your...things. Would you have believed me if I said I was attacked in the middle of the night by a vampire pony?"

I frowned, unsure of what to say. I didn't remember what really happened during the time I was in that docking bay, and I didn't recall anything about Candy Cane before she ran up to me in Watershed. "Well, I guess I wouldn't, but...huh." I stopped, realizing something. "I guess she's that Ms. Batsy?"

Watchful paused for a few moments, eyebrows raised and fingers curling into his palms, but shrugged after a few moments of contemplation. "I guess she is. I suppose she's the one who took care of Candy Cane as well."

We both looked at each other, apparently wondering which one of us was going to take the bait.

"You didn't ask Candy Cane about what she was doing in Donk's Docks, did you?" I said, breaking the silence.

"I did, Blueberry, but she didn't give me a straight answer. But she's, what, six? She might have been there her whole life."

He paused, motioning to me. "I'm really not sure if I should be the one who should talk to Umbra, Blueberry. She's been giving me odd looks since she arrived, actually."

I tilted my head. "Like, how? I mean, is she...has she said anything rude to you, or anything?"

He shook his head slowly, but I would think it had more to do with the huge horns on his head than anything else. "No, it's not that. She just looks at me oddly." he brought a hand up to the back of his neck, almost shyly. "I mean, I think I am used to ponies staring at me, but I caught her staring at me once. Not angry or anything, but...watching."

I raised a eyebrow, giving him a playful look. "Well, you probably could bench-press her if you wanted to."

He suddenly grew agitated, small grey eyes narrowing slightly. "That's not what I mean, Blueberry. I can tell when a pony probably doesn't want me around. She looked at me like I was going to snap at any moment."

That was troubling, very troubling. "I'll ask her about it, then. I hope it isn't anything major, then. If it is, though..."

I couldn't think of anything else to say, so I gave up.

"Blueberry, Dawn told me something that's been gnawing at my mind about Tauronto." he said, voice wavering slightly, "She told me there were minotaurs and buffalo in Tauronto more than thirty years ago, but they vanished. I don't like how she sounded when she was talking about them."

I breathed in deeply. "Well, didn't your grandfather say something about a Stable filled with them?"

He looked unnerved, his big weird mouth in a grimance. "I don't think I can trust what he told me anymore. To much of what he said doesn't make sense, too many conflicting stories. And there was that ghoul who reacted to his name oddly."

I nodded, narrowing my eyes. "True. I'll ask her about that, too."

Feeling like I needed to leave him alone for a good amount of time to think, I gave him another nod and made my way to the open door, leaving my amulet and my new book behind on a table, so he could see it.

He didn't stop me from leaving the room. I wasn't sure if I was glad or not, that he didn't have anything else to say.

I took my time getting out to the balcony, frowning when I realized that I hadn't seen Golden Dawn on the way up. But then, I had time to do what needed to be done about her.

Up close, Umbra looked strange, but startlingly natural. Not to mean that she did not look strange, but she didn't exactly look like a evil creature of bloodsucking horror and death at that very moment. She was sitting near the railings, on solid wood this time, leaning slightly to the right, presumably to see Sea Salt and Candy Cane play around. I didn't know much about pegusi, or bat-winged one's for that matter, but she seemed to be on the small side and a little bony; she couldn't have been more then a head and a half taller then me and her collarbone was visible even from the side. Her ears were tuffed, and when I stepped outside, they twitched, like a cat's. Her cutie mark was some sort of dark purple swirly-symbol I couldn't make out from the angle I was standing at.

"Oh, hey." she said, not sounding surprised at all by my entrance, "Blueberry Cream's your name, right? Mine's Umbra."

She seemed rather relaxed, as far as things were concerned, posture slack and voice low. I wasn't sure how to approach talking to her, so I tried to think about something I would have a excuse for asking about.

"Hello." I said, making my way to the railing, taking note that Sea Salt was apparently giving Candy Cane rides in the river. Which was mildly irradiated.

"I'll get her to drink a Rad-Away, don't worry." Umbra said immediately after I spotted the duo, as if she was reading my mind. "The Donk's water isn't as bad as most ponies think, anyway, she won't be turning into a tumor pile on my watch. Heh."

"About that." I said, trying to keep myself from staring at her strange slitted eyes, "What's Candy Cane's story? I mean, what happened to her parents?"

The bat-pony shifted herself, leaning a slim foreleg placed the railing after turning around to face me, giving me a sober look.

"About two years ago, I was flying on the outskirts of Tauronto when I found a caravan train. Three carts, slavers. One loaded with beds and the other two filled with slaves, heading north from the looks of things."

I gave a look to the little filly currently on top of Sea Salt's head, apparently attempting to stand up on her hind legs while singing some song or another. "What happened?"

The bat mare's voice was scratchy and grim, like some late old-world news messenger. "A wheel on the main cart broke, and the slavers were arguing about what to do. When I sniped off one of them, they started to shoot at me. That didn't last too long. But the mare in charge was a piece of work, real bitchy big-shot. Almost clipped me."

She stretched out her left wing, which made me breath in deeply. The wings themselves looked old and slightly transparent, like a dirty window. They looked worn and used, the edges graying and slightly tattered like old cloth. I spotted the single hole in it quickly enough, placed near the very top ridge and little more then a half-inch wide.

"The slaves were all alive, but she solved that quickly enough. They were all shock collared, she wasn't even decent enough to get explosives. Fried their brains, it took too long for them to die. It's not something I like to remember."

She paused, grimacing. "Two dozen ponies, all mares."

Umbra paused again, nose flaring slightly. "Smelled like a barbecue."

I felt a bit of bile rise up in my throat. She didn't sound happy at the memory, but what it implied...

"How did she survive?" I asked quietly, looking over at the little filly cheerfully playing in the river.

Umbra sighed, but she sounded somewhere between amused and pained. "The mare's last words were to look after her little foal in the passenger seat. Candy Cane's real name is Candy Chain."

I blinked once, mouth opening in shock. "Are you saying-"

"That she's a slaver's kid? Yeah. The mare was a splitting image of her, same hair and everything. She's smart, though, no bad blood in her at all. Knew how to read when I found her."

I tried to suppress the empty feeling growing in my chest, and tried to lock eyes with Umbra. She didn't look especially amused, or upset either.

"Really, now? She told me she was six." I said, smiling weakly. Or eight. I wasn't sure which one was right.

"She was closer to a foal then a filly when I found her, so that's my guess." Umbra shrugged, her skin stretching around her bony shoulders like it was a carpet around a angular machine. "Still, she can read and write, and not just scribbling. She's been begging me to find something better then Flufflepuffs Fluffy Adventures and Daring Doo. I caught her reading a crime novel, and one she shouldn't have been reading in the first place. Thicker then her hoof, hell, my hoof." she finished, letting out a raspy chuckle as she raised a thin leg for emphasis.

I stared at the seapony and the little filly on her head, and sighed. "The more I learn about the ponies around me, the more I realize that I should probably settle somewhere."

"I get it. I'v seen a lot, too much probably." Umbra spoke up, flapping her wings a few times. I caught the sad look she gave to the scene below us, yellowed whites and golden irises narrow as she sighed.

I wasn't sure how I was supposed to feel about her then; she acted like a mostly normal pony, even if she was strange looking.

"Are you a Reaver?" I said, hoping I didn't offend her. It was bugging me, how her wings were so damaged and her eyes were so odd; they looked like they gave off a slight golden glow.

"Heh, naw. I'm no ghoul." Umbra hooted, "Been like this a while. I'm closer to them then you, though."

"What does that mean?" I said, honestly curious at her strange answer.

"Magic's awesome." she said, waving a hoof in the air. "I'm not a Reaver, but I'm on good terms with Sheol. I didn't die two hundred years ago, just got..." she scrunched up her nose, seemingly trying to find the right word, "Preserved, yeah. Necromancy got to me, but I don't rot, and I heal in balefire radiation. It's a nice deal, but I'm still breathing. Saw a unicorn about it once, said it had to do with magical matrix's interacting with outside forces or some complicated crap like that. It's no big deal, honestly. Seen weirder things happen to ponies then what happened to me."

I stared at Umbra, wondering about what exactly what I was looking at. Another pre-war monster, but one of even more dubious sanity then Sea Salt. "Who's Sheol?"

"A Reaver big guy." she said slowly, straightening out her posture, "Big guy, one of Mr.Ed's main servants. If you see him, you're already dead. He doesn't come out of the Tower unless Ed want's something killed or done away with." she pauses, giving me a canine-toothed smirk and a nasty leer. "I hear he eats Steel Rangers."

I took a step back instinctively, which caused Umbra to blink with confusion and worry.

"Aw, shit, I didn't mean it like that." she said, panicking slightly. "I'm kidding."

"Don't joke like that." I breathed after I managed to calm down enough to speak, "Don't joke about killing Steel Rangers, ever."

"I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry." Umbra repeated, sounding upset at herself. "It's just...your minotaur friend mentioned it, and I couldn't not mention it, after all. I'm not going to kill you or anything."

"Ever Watchful told you I was a Ranger?" I said slowly, anger building up. How dare he, how dare-

"Hey, chill out, I said I was sorry." Umbra piped up, looking confused.

I felt stupid; I needed to keep calm, and I needed to be smart about this. I was going into what might as well be enemy territory.

"It's fine. But about Watchful-"

"Sorry to interrupt, mind if I ask something 'bout him?" Umbra quickly interjected, grinning sheepishly. "It's just a funny thing, really, nothing important, but it would help relieve some of the tension I have about him. I'm a paranoid old bat, yeah, but mind humoring me for a few seconds?"

I was annoyed by the sudden question, but nodded, hoping that it was the one that was bugging her about him. If it could make her open up, I would tell her anything.

"Sure, ask away, as long as it's not too personal." I said, trying to sound less annoyed then I really was.

"What's his dad's name?"

I grinned. "Bulls Strength. Original, isn't it?"

She let out a little dry giggle, like a drunkard. "Ah, see, that's a big fricken relief. See, he reminded me of another minotaur, and there's only so many of them wandering around, but there's only one named Bitter Truth. Big'n tall black minotaur's arn't exactly common around here, you know."

I blinked, frowning. "That's his grandfather's name."

Her entire demeanor changed, stance alert and face frozen in a unfortunate rictus.

"What the fuck did you just say, little mare?" she said, voice all honey and poison. "Did I hear you properly; Bitter Truth's his grandsire?"

"...Yes." I said, confused and slightly concerned at Umbra's reaction. She looked at me like I just told her a Balefire Bomb was set to explode underneath her. "He is."

The bat pony dropped to all fours, crouching low to the floor as she bared her teeth, ivory knives set on black rotten gums. I gulped; ponies shouldn't have a mouthful of fangs.

"Blueberry Cream, are you shitting with me? The minotaur downstairs is Bitter Truth's grandkid?"

I dearly wished for a method of defense, or just something to separate myself from Umbra. I wanted a gun or a knife or something blunt and heavy; she reminded me of a old manticore I shot once near the Everfree, all skin and bones and skill. She looked like she would pounce at any moment, ears perked up and hooves outstretched like claws.

"Well, yeah, w-what's the problem with that?"

Umbra let out a shuddering, full-body hiss, arching her back as if to accommodate old wounds, eye's bright with hatred and fear.

"Your telling me that Ever Watchful's the heir of the Minotaur Legate, that's the fucking problem!"

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