> Fallout Equestria : The Lost Slave
>  by SkyDreams
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Character Introduction "Prologue"
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hello, I’m Lock Love, a slave.

I was born in the Shattered Hoof Detention Center. I don’t remember my actual mom too well, I just remember that she was really nice, I was bought really early on. I’m not too upset about it though, as a slave I’m not supposed to have nice things like a mom anyway.

My first master was a Unicorn named Tech Wonder, doc Whiz for short. I always called him master though. He bought me while I was small, because I could get into the crawl spaces in his workshop. While brilliant and kind, he was prone to drop things where he couldn’t see them. So he would send me in to pick them up and only beat me when I was really bad, like when I tried to go and play in town. I didn’t know I wasn’t supposed to play back then, I’m better now I swear. 

Anyway, as I got old enough he bought a slave collar for me and taught me to read and do a light spell, he made me valuable. I used the light spell to see in the crawl spaces he sent me into and put the wires where he told me to. I was really good! Of course, while he made me a valuable slave, he still got bored easily. I remember it hurt a lot at first, at least when he was on top, but it made my master happy and that’s all I cared about. It’s all I’m supposed to care about.

Of course, this new use he found me was more wonderful than just making my master happy, my new purpose also lead to my cutie mark! You see, Master had told his friend in town some of the things I was able to do, like the thing when I bend backwards and stand under him, and got her to visit for a night. She was impressed by me even though I was still just a colt. All three of us were in bed at the same time! Sometime between the panting, Miss Machete shouting out how much she loved Master, and all three of us collapsing I got my cutiemark. It’s a heart with shackles going through the center. I was proud to discover I was made to be a pleasure slave.

Of course a few months passed and Miss Machete moved in and Master had to sell me off. She said she couldn’t live with a dirty slave. My next Master was an Earthpony ghoul who bought me for a whole 1000 caps! Mr. Slater owned a Brothel in Canterberry Commons, a small settlement on the outside of Hoofington. He said that I was a wise investment and clearly came from ‘good stock’ whatever that meant. 

At first, I was surprised that Mr. Slater didn’t want me to call him master and kind of hurt he didn’t want me for my special talent. Though as I spent time in the PinkiePopz Brothel I quickly learned why. Most of the customers didn’t want to have sex with a pony that wasn’t tough enough to take it, plus Mr. Slater had bigger plans for me. When I was old enough to catch the attention of his customers he started hiding me downstairs during office hours. He was really happy the day a Mare asked if I could be part of her ‘fantasy package’ in the member’s only rooms. He kept me doing work in his office and in the studio for a few months so that ponies would forget I was even there and then it was my turn to be the best servant I could be.

As it turns out, the whole reason he had bought me in the first place was for this moment. I became a recurring model in his magazine ‘WetHooves SoftPaws’ as a ‘kink’ model. He had a working printing press somewhere in the hoof. He said I made the best poses because half of them were both sexy and impossible! Every time I showed up in one of his magazines his sales went up in both the brothel and from the magazine. I made my master rich and still performed all of my regular duties. He had to keep me hidden though because mares and bucks kept coming in to ask if I was ‘on the menu’. Of course, eventually somepony came in with an offer he just couldn’t refuse. 

Master sold me to a ‘stable mare’ named Brilliant Spark for a lot of caps and a whole cart of machines and ink. I still remember the eager face and the little bounce she did when she saw me, her new favorite toy. A tall black stallion all for her. She got all kinds of looks from the other patrons when she walked me out of the brothel. A couple of them damning her to the moon for getting me before they could. I found out that I was a ‘High Demand’ slave, one of the best known and most desired. She turned down five offers to buy me off her before she could get out of the door. A fancy looking buck offered her 30,000 caps up front and a member ship into some kind of society! I was a prize! I had never felt so proud before in my life, I was the slave that all masters wanted.

Mistress Spark took me back to her home, a little town in the middle of nowhere. The residents of Stable 64 had made a town outside of their Stable. Her shack was a good distance away where her partying wouldn’t bother grumpy ponies. She used me for exactly the purpose I was intended and utilized me at least once a day, sometimes up to seven when she was feeling energetic. She said I was the most filling buck she’d been with and that I was her best purchase in the wasteland ever. She had so many toys that I didn’t know existed, there was even one that was made to look like a dragon! ‘HE’ was named Mr.Bad.

Her parties consisted of other mares from her stable normally, that’s when the toys really came in handy. She shared me with them from time to time too, thats how I found out ‘all’ stable mares were really horny. That life was nice too, I even got to help her make energy weapons to trade and help defend her town. When I was bad, like when I did something without permission, She chained me to my corner and forced me to watch her pleasure herself by hoof even though it was my purpose to make her not need to, or she used a ‘strap on’ and fucked me as she yelled at me. I think the former bothered me most.

I think she was my best master to date though, she got the most and best use out of me than the other two and I enjoyed being her slave for several years. Of course, I’m a slave and I’m not supposed to have nice things like a master that used me properly. One day, after I had been bad and locked into my corner, a crazy mare with barding from a different stable slammed into My master’s shack while she was hoofing herself, yelled something about slavery and blew my Master’s head off with a shotgun. I was so scared, I was sure she was going to kill me too. I couldn’t make out what she said too well through the tears but she took my master’s PipBuck off and strapped it around my hoof. I still remember her spiky blue hair and vicious matching eyes. She did something to my collar, making the light turn off and something snap, frowned and then kissed me on the forehead. She left in a hurry telling me to run if I knew what was good for me. The whole town was on fire.

I hated her, I still hate her. She took me away from everything I ever knew and now I’m lost, no master, no direction, no way to know who I’m supposed to obey now or what I’m supposed to do. I took my master’s favorite gun and ran, I did know what was best for me. I had heard the tales and I could be a better slave there. I knew that if I wanted to do what was best for me, I had to find ‘the slave’s paradise’, Fillydelphia. I needed purpose and this place promised that, the only place a slave could be happy.

I’m Lock Love, and I’m a lost slave.
> Chapter 1: Strange Masters
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Chapter 1: Strange Masters

Another gust of wind blew in and with it a mouth full of dust and chilled bones. Winter was approaching in the coming months and, without protection, Lock Love would surely freeze to death. He coughed and hacked, his dry throat trying to expel the invading dust. It had been 3 days since he’d had water to drink or food to eat, three days since his meaning in life came to a horrifically bloody end, and three days since a new sensation began forming in his heart. For the first time in his 24 years of life he truly hated someone. The Grey Mare. 

Though the pain never really left him, he didn’t have time to dwell on his newfound hatred. He needed shelter, food, water, and a new master. The young black stallion stopped, taking a moment to set down his old master’s recharger-rifle, and hugged himself for warmth. “A little further Lock. Paradise is a little further.” This mantra to reach Fillidelphia was all he had left and drove him forward. He looked down to his flank where dust was beginning to cover up the symbol that denoted his purpose in life, a red heart with an iron chain and shackle piercing it like an arrow. “You can’t die here Lock, you haven’t been used enough. You’re still valuable.” With this he found the courage to get back up and continue moving, one shaking hoof at a time.

Hours more of hunger and thirst pressed against the lone unicorn until at last, hope shown like a light in the distance. He finally saw other ponies, possibly masters, standing in front of a wooden stand with a zebra waiting on them lazily. He hurried along, making his best effort to keep up a brisk trot. He was able to make out the details of the three creatures at the side of the road, hugging the wall of the valley they were in. The zebra had strange colors in his stripes; red, blue, orange, purple, and a couple other colors that he couldn’t remember the names of. The pony talking to the zebra was a broad shouldered Earth Pony with a wild red beard and a strange metal contraption lining his legs and back, it seemed to be supporting a large gun and battle saddle. This pony was clearly a warrior of some kind. The other pony was stranger yet, sporting feathers and yellow front hooves that split into 4 wiggly things that had sharp points. Lock Love had seen pegasi before, this was not one of those. This thing was tall and had a sharp yellow thing covering its face where the muzzle should be. The sharp-feathered-pony-thing was wearing polished armor with a necklace dangling in the front. The necklace carried a softly glowing green gem.

The green and red earth pony began shouting as Lock Love got closer. “You are making sale very hard! 300 caps, no higher!” He slammed down his hoof, marking the finality of his statement. Lock Love approached, Eager to know what was going on and hoping he could assist this pony who clearly had the will of a master. 

The Multi-colored zebra took a moment to weigh the offer and finally nodded. “Sure, okay. 300 caps it is.” This Zebra didn’t seem to have that strange rhyming accent that most others Lock had encountered had. “Tell you what though, if you three do something for me I’ll return the full amount to you AND give you something nice in exchange.” The Zebra had looked over to Lock Love briefly, counting him amongst the group that was there.

“OTLICHNYY! YES! Very good! You have deal!” The earth pony rushed in to shake the Zebra’s hoof before pausing mid shake. “Wait… Three? Last time Cann On counts it’s two” The hulking earth pony known as Cann On looked about until he spied Lock Love, head lowered and in an obedient position. “Blyat! Gyle, pickpocket! Shoot him, Gryphon!” Lock thought that Cann On was loud, that probably meant he was a master, he was also giving out commands.

The strange feathered pony, that answered to both Gryphon and Gyle shook his head. “I’m not shooting him. He’s not a pickpocket. I’ve been watching him this whole time.” The feathered pony had a smooth voice and spoke with a great deal of authority. Were both of these ponies masters? Maybe they could help him get to Fillydelphia, or maybe just accept him as their slave! 

Cann On, looking a tad surprised, inspected the would-be pickpocket. Immediately, Lock Love stood up right to show himself off to the inspecting master, levitating the recharger-rifle into his old master’s satchel at his side. he knew he was a good specimen from how he had been treated and traded in the past; a sex slave, a model, a personal pleasure slave, and the envy of many other masters. He was certainly good looking and on top of that he was perfectly obedient. He had learned to do as he was told a long time ago and even earned the collar around his neck by doing so. Even though the collar was broken now and no longer had the pretty red light on it, he was very proud of it.

Even with all of this working in Lock Love’s favor, Cann On reeled back after a very short inspection. “Oh! He is slave.” He sounded sad at first but quickly turned to anger. “Where is slaver of you? Answer now.” Cann On kicked a small lever on his metal rigging, causing his guns to click and load in fresh shotgun shells. “You are safe with Cann.”

Having been asked a direct question, he was allowed to answer. That was lesson 1 of being a good slave. “I’m sorry. My old master died. I didn’t do it though, I promise. It was The Grey Mare with wicked blue mane and a shotgun.”

“Otlichno.” Cann calmed down, seemingly satisfied with this answer. “Okay, well you seem fit enough. You want to join us on whatever the zebra here wants? He offers pay.” He motioned towards the zebra, who was wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Lock Love smiled, a little excitement filling his chest. Was Cann offering to be his master and give him work to do? He would rather have some food and water first, but he was a slave and would have to work first. “Yes! I would be happy to serve you! I’m sure a master like you could use the money.” He looked at the Zebra behind the counter, anticipating what type of pleasure service he might want. 

The feathered pony-thing quickly cut it. “Woah woah woah! No. You got the job offer wrong there guy. Take it from a gryphon, I know a thing or two about jobs and contracts.” Lock love felt a little embarrassed, he thought gryphon was this creature’s name, apparently this creature was Gyle who was a gryphon. He had never met one before but remembered somepony mentioning them in passing a long time ago. He had to admit, they looked rather intimidating. “What my Stalliongradi friend is trying to say is; do you want to get paid for helping us with whatever job this zebra is offering?”

Lock looked at Gyle with confusion. What did he mean get paid? Did these creatures not know how slaves worked? “Okay, I’ll do whatever you want me to do. I don’t need money though, I’m not supposed to have that.” He ended his statement in a fit of coughing, dust flying out in small clouds. 

There was an exasperated sigh before Cann cut in, grabbing onto Lock’s shoulders. “No, You are confused! Eto tvoya svoboda! Master is dead, collar is clearly broken, no slavers in sight. Meaning is, you are free! As free pony you need money, caps, to survive.”

A test, it had to be. There were only three types of ponies in this world; Good Slaves, Bad Slaves, and Masters. There was no such thing as a free slave and Lock love was definitely not a bad slave. He couldn’t help but laugh at the trick this new master was trying to pull, of course the laughter simply ended in more coughing. “Oh no sir, only bad and dumb slaves think they can be free. Not me, I know my place. If I hadn’t found you I would still be on my way to fillydelphia.”

Losing patience, the Zebra spoke up. “So, what’s it gonna be?” He uncapped a bottle of water and placed it on the counter tauntingly. 

“Cann, we have to take him with us. You know that. If he goes to Fillydelphia-” Gyle was cut off abruptly by Cann waving his hoof in front of the gryphon’s face.

“Ugh! I know I know. But Cann is no slaver!” The hulking green pony sat down in a slump.

Gyle pulled out an old magazine from beneath his armor and flipped through the pages. “Besides, he’s not going to make it on his own.” After a moment, he showed one of the pages to Cann, whose eyes went wide at the sight of it. 

“You hold Cann’s hoof behind his back! Fine!” Cann sat back up and started poking Lock Love in the chest. “Listen to me.” Lock nodded, he was good at listening. “You will come with us, you will serve Cann, but do not call him master!” Lock nodded once more, it was a strange request but he could think up other things to call him. “For first command, hold out your hoof.” It was an easy enough task, Lock Love proved it by holding out his hoof without delay. To his surprise though, the boisterous bearded stallion plopped ten caps into his hoof. “Use that to pay for water and food from Zebra.”

It was highly unusual for a pleasure slave, but he had heard of house slaves doing this kind of work. They would use the master’s money to purchase food from in town and bring it back for them. Lock just nodded and hoofed the caps over to the Zebra. “Food and water please.” With a smile, the zebra added a fancy buck cake to the water he had already placed on the counter and collected the caps. Lock levitated the items up and over to Cann, waiting for approval of his servitude.

What Lock Love got was not approval, but a deeply concerned look from his new master. “You can’t be serious... “ Gyle started snickering from the behind the earthpony. “Oh Iyubimyy. Look what the bastards have done to you. Eat, drink. Those are for you.” Cann was offering Lock a reward but still looked very sad. It was very confusing, but the command to eat and drink was too welcomed to be questioned. 

Wasting no time, Lock downed the water all at once and washed away the dust that had collected there over the past 3 days. The cool liquid was as good as any Sparkle Cola could have ever been at that moment. The Fancy Buck Cakes were next. He didn’t really take the time to taste them, swallowing large chunks without chewing, just to get the food down into his stomach quicker. It wasn’t much, but it was definitely enough for now.

All the while that Lock was enjoying his reward, Gyle was leaning against the counter hashing out the details of the task. “So, yeah I guess we’re accepting your deal. What was it you needed us to do?”

The zebra smiled, quite satisfied. “There is a town, just down the road. It’s having some troubles. Go help them out and I’ll reward you. Simple enough?”

Cann nodded, squinting one eye at the zebra. “Dah… but why zebra make it sound so suspicious?”

“Why, I have no idea what you’re talking about good sir. I just have business in that town that is far more valuable than what you’re purchasing. It would shame if their troubles were to escalate to the point where I couldn’t do business, now wouldn’t it? Trot along now. You’re on the clock, even if it doesn’t seem like it.” Answered the Zebra, placing a tiny ‘closed’ sign on the counter top of his small booth. 

The two wastelanders took the hint, gathering their purchases and making tracks in the direction the multicolored zebra had indicated. Lock, wasting no time, stuck to their tails ready to be of assistance should his new masters need it. 

Not much happened along the road and out of sheer boredom Gyle decided to make conversation. “Sooooo, Lock Love was it? I get that you were a slave but you’re also a unicorn, have you learned any useful spells along the way?” He asked, looking back to lock with one predatory eye. “Anything you know could be useful to us.”

Never one to waste the chance to display his usefulness, Lock jumped at the chance to explain some of what he could do. “Yes of course! I know few spells. They aren’t particularly dangerous but they are very useful! I can cast a neat light from my horn, levitate things, I have a tickle spell, I have a hair growing spell, And I can make sparks with my horn!” He smiled, knowing that he easily had spells to use than most slaves. He mostly learned from watching, never having access to a spell book before. 

Cann rolled his eyes. “Dah, well flashlight is good to have. Yes? Can you shoot gun?” He nodded towards the recharger rifle hanging out of Lock’s saddle-bags. 

It wasn’t something he had actually considered before. He knew he had brought it to shoot monsters if any showed up, but that concept of needing to actually use it never crossed his mind. “I uuh..” He hesitated, not wanting to lie to his new master. Then a thought crossed his mind. Cann had only asked if he could shoot it, not if he was good at shooting it. “Yeah, I can shoot this gun.” He said nodding with a grin that just a tad too wide to be believable. “Mistress Brilliant Spark taught me how to assemble and help fix these things. We had to fire them to make sure they were working correctly.” He hadn’t lied, but he had only helped his old master with repairs a few times and only when it came to energy weapons which often needed an extra hoof to hold things in place. 

Of course, this little white lie was bound to get him in trouble, Cann seemed extremely interested in this feature of Lock’s. “Fantastika! You fix guns? Cann does also!” He slapped his chest with one hoof rather excitedly. “Cann fixes many things! Like prototype power armor frame.” He motioned to the strange contraption that was outfitting his whole body. “No armor, but carries large guns. Making dah big booms! HAHAHA!” 

Before the conversation could go any further, and to Lock’s relief, Gyle spoke up. “Oh good there’s the town. Oh shoot, and here I was hoping to listen to you two talk about part numbers and pin sizes for the next hour. Oh no what a shame.” He said, as lamely as possible. He wasn’t lying though. There, just around the bend of the mountain, was a walled off town with a large belltower sticking out from the center. 

As the trio came into sight, the belltower began ringing a loud ominous chime. It was as though they were being warned away. At the same time, the wide town gates began to swing open, welcoming them into the town of partially restored pre-war buildings. Across the walls of the town were large words and signs that had been painted on over the year. ‘Go home zebras!’, 
‘Zebraeque moriemini!’, and ‘Better wiped than striped’ had been painted in red and in overly large letters. From the weathered appearance, it looks like it had been there for a long time. The sign above the gate had been vandalized as well, but could still be made out clearly ‘Welcome to Pacatus Town’.

Lock noticed that his old master’s pip-buck chimed as he read the sign to himself. After examining the device, he noticed that the location had been updated on his map and marked with a small town icon. Lock smiled, noting how useful the device was. Perhaps Mistress Spark was still looking after him from inside the small machine. He certainly hoped so and made a quiet promise to make her proud.

When the trio entered into the town, they didn’t find much more than boarded up buildings and darkened windows. It was ominous to say the least. As they walked further in Lock noticed the slightest bit of movement in the window  of a long building, comprise of 3 houses linked together with scrap wood and sheet metal. “Over there!” He pointed out impulsively. 

Everypony looked, but saw nothing. “Try to relax, Lock Love. sure it’s creepy but it’s just an abandoned mining town by the looks of it.” Chimed Gyle, who was fingering one of the pistols he kept on his side. Lock figured, that he was probably saying it more to calm himself down than anything. “Strange though, didn’t that zebra say this was a town he did business with?” 

There was a sudden rumbling from beneath everypony's hooves as they entered the town square. “What is that?” Came Cann, his firing bit clicking into place and ready for combat. The rumbling continued, getting louder and louder. Soon everypony was on edge.

All at once the rumbling, which had grown to surround the trio, stopped. The air became still, no pony willing to make sudden movements. “Cann, Sit here with Lock Love. I’ll take a look around.” Gyle said pointing up towards the sky. He got nothing more than a nod from Cann. In one large flap of his wings he was soaring over the town. Lock looked up to him in jaw dropped awe, as his wings made him look like the posters of the princesses that had survived the war.

“Woah!” Exclaimed Lock Love. He quickly put his hoof over his mouth, realizing he had spoken out of turn. He looked to Cann to make sure he hadn’t been noticed. Cann was more focused on the dirt beneath his hooves, flopping one ear from place to place in silent determination. What was he listening for? Lock had no idea.

Lock didn’t have to wait and wonder too long, Cann had something for him to do. “Lock, why not check buildings for ponies and supplies?” He quickly motioned towards the building made of scrap materials linking together three houses. 

Eager to fulfill a roll of service, Lock nodded happily and made his way to the building at once. “Yes, sir. I’ll fill my saddlebags.” This made Lock rather happy, he couldn’t help but put a smile on his face. Aside from the spooky rumbling sound, everything was going great! He was getting orders, he wasn’t being shot at, he had a master, and he wasn’t even that close to starving. The only thing that was bugging him was the fact that his rear hoof had stopped being able to move all of a sudden.

Lock looked back to check on his hoof, which was experiencing a sharp pain.. He saw two sharp boney looking things squeezing his lower leg and keeping in still. “Hey, let go. I’m supposed to be doing something.” He tugged at his leg in an attempt to free himself from the weird thing sticking out of the dirt. His attempt to free his leg was met with some angry clicking sounds and the bony things digging in deeper to the point that blood began to slowly seep out of his leg. “Ow! Hey, stop it please. You’re going to upset my master.” 

In response to his continued resistance, two large antennae pushed their way out of the dirt followed by large multifaceted eyes. The eyes were connected a thick shell that was also connected to what was now quite obviously mandibles. All together the strange chittering creature looked like a monster right out of any wastelanders nightmares. Lock love could help but scream in terror. “Master Cann!!!!” 

As though some unheard signal was sounded, eight huge oversized ants burst through the ground to ambush the two ponies on the ground. “Shoot it Lock! Shoot bugs!” Cann shouted as his shotguns began to shout defiance at the encroaching ants.

Reacting instantly to the command, Lock drew out Brilliant Spark’s Recharger rifle and unloaded the whole battery into the head of the creature trying to hold him in place. There were loud cracks of energy in rapid succession, followed by brilliant pink flashes of light. In a moment the air smelled of ozone and cooked ant meat. He stood there panting, in a half panic, before his years of training kicked back in and he was right back to following his master’s commands: ‘Shoot bugs’.

Freed from the grasp of the ant, Lock began charging the remaining ants. He yelled at the top of his lungs, feeling as though a ‘battle cry’ would be appropriate. He fired his rifle wildly, so much so that the rifle could barely keep a charge in it and occasionally clicked dry before being able to fire again. 

The smell of battle took him to a dark place, remembering the gunshots that lead to Mistress Spark being slain right before his eyes. Every Ant seemed to grow that blood spattered grey mare’s face. What was at first a wild spread of gunfire quickly became directed hatred, his look of horror became a grin, and his screaming became laughter. It was a beautiful 30 seconds of bloody revenge.

When the last ant fell, disintegrating into a burning pile of pink ash, Lock was left panting as he searched for more of that grey mare to kill. He stood before a shocked but impressed Cann. “Is okay now. All dead.” Cann said, motioning to the fried ant corpses. 

It took a moment but Lock finally began to calm down taking in the carnage that he was partially responsible for. His magical grasp on the recharger rifle popped, dropping the weapon to the ground. He had never killed anything before, not even a radroach. He was astonished at how easy it had been to do. Was it always like this? Was it different with ponies? He figured that it probably wasn’t and that why Some master would kill off bad slaves. He looked at the Earthpony he now called master, loaded with shotguns and a mortar. He definitely had to keep being good.

Lock was pulled out of his thoughts by a sudden gust of air as Gyle returned to the ground. “I heard gun fire is everything- ah… ew.” The charismatic gryphon had to kick some ant goop off of one of his pawed legs. “Nevermind. Who was laughing?”

Before Gyle could put the pieces together Cann slapped Lock’s back, laughing boisterously. “That was the ‘slave’ pony. Much fun shooting ants.HAHA! Is good step in right direction.” He shook Lock love with one heavy hoof, sounding proud. Lock Love thought he was being trained to be a combat slave, were those a thing?

“Right well, I found something while you two were ‘playing around’” Gyle chimed in, pulling out a small black and purple orb that had been crack from wear and tear. “I think it’s a memory orb, think it’s still useable?”

Lock Love was staring at the rifle on the ground and the word etched into the side. ‘Sparky’, Mistress Spark had carved it in before she even began repairing it. He was so lost in the memory of the item and thinking about how he had just used it that he was completely unaware that the question was directed at him. One sharp claw to his bare chest pulled Lock back to reality. “What? Me?” He looked at the orb curiously. He had seen memory orbs before but never used one. “I-I I don’t know sir. I’m sorry.”

Gyle shrugged and held the orb out for Lock Love. “Well give it a shot at least. What’s the worst that could happen?” He looked around for an answer but saw none in the blank expression of his companions. “We’ll keep an eye out for more ants while you’re in there. The orb may have some useful information in it.” 

The command to use the orb was definitely enticing. Lock was being trusted with gathering intelligence that may be ‘vital’ to his masters’ survival. “Yes sir, Master Gyle. I’ll remember every detail.” He took the orb in his magical grasp, but didn’t get a chance to focus on it like other unicorns did when they used memory orbs. In truth, Lock was completely unprepared for the experience, as his consciousness was sucked into the orb all at once.

In an instant Lock was pulled into a dark place, he could feel the air around him and powerful legs pounding up a sharp incline. The air was cold and damp and every step echoed as if in a long dark cavern. 

Lock wanted to stop and get his bearings but his legs wouldn’t obey, they just kept pounding up through mud and stone. He could feel a massive weight behind him, trying to pull him back down, hooked to a harness around his neck and shoulders. He was pulling sounded like a metal cart. With each step came a guttural grunt that came from an alien throat. It only took a few moments for Lock to realize that he wasn’t inside of his own body, he was experiencing the recorded memory from inside the body of the pony who owned this memory.

A warm light began to glow in the distance and another pony made herself known. A mare shouting out that it was closing time and to hurry up with the last load. Lock could feel the vibrations in his throat as words began to form but was suddenly ripped from the moment in a sickening change of positions. The whole memory jumped forward, the body he was riding now sitting next to a mine cart full of chunks of stone and metal. The drastic change in position made Lock want to vomit, the worst part was that he was physically incapable of following through as once again he was not in control here. 

“Think the Overmare will be happy today?” Grumbled the rough voice of the stallion Lock was in. He was in the middle of hanging up his mining helmet and safety harness. The lamp on his helmet was shattered, likely the reason why there was no light earlier. 

“Likely not. She hates birthday parties. Ha! She better smile though. One of Pinkie’s goons is in town looking for that zebra. What was the lock up code again?” said the mare, fiddling with a grated door that lead into the dark tunnels from earlier.

The stallion laughed a bit heading towards a room that read ‘Showers’. “Just do the unlock code backwards. 5529.” There was an electronic click before the world shifted again once again upturning Lock Loves stomach. When he was done with this he was going to puke just to reassure himself that he could. 

This time his head hurt and the memory was hazy. There was muffled shouting and Lock could barely make out a black striped gun barrel pointing at his face. Suddenly there was a loud bang, a door had been blown open with explosive and pony after pony began charging into the room with guns drawn. There was a sudden sharp pain in Lock’s chest and then a hail of gunfire went from the ponies into the figure that had been holding the stallion at gunpoint. The shrill shriek of the mare from earlier could be heard over the gunfire. “STOOOONE!!!”

With all of the force of an explosion Lock was kicked out of the orb and back into his own body. He came back screaming, falling to the ground as the phantom pains of the gunshot wound lingered. On top of that his head and horn ached, feeling as though a large nail was being hammered into his skull from the tip of his horn down to his eye socket. 

Lock Love wailed in protest of the pain, gripping his head with his hooves. This was possibly the worst pain he had ever felt. It felt like somepony had snapped off his horn and started hitting the stump with a hammer and he couldn’t stand it.

Gyle leaped to the ground, trying to calm the wailing unicorn down. “Lock! Are you okay? Talk to me. Breathe, just breathe!” He held the stallion’s fore legs to the ground reapeating; “Breathe in, Breathe out. Breathe in Breathe out.”

The willingness to comply came easy, but the act of following Gyle’s directions proved to be much more difficult. Lock was trapped in a battle between instinct and reflex. He followed the breathing directions as best as he could, taking in deep rapid breaths. His hooves, failing to follow orders, tried desperately to cling to and protect his skull where the pain continued to consume all thought. His mind was racing, alarms going off all over as he prayed for the sweet release of death so that he would not be faced with this hellish sensation. Slowly the nails pushed further and further, spreading the pain the furthest reaches of his mind.

All Lock could do on his own was breathe. 

Breathe in…

Breathe out…

Breathe in…

Breathe out…

With all the rush of wingless pegasus, Lock Love’s vision began to fade.

Breathe in…

Breathe out…

Breathe in…

Breathe out…

With a few sporadic panicked breathes, The Black Stallion fell limp on the ground. Cann Looked over to Gyle in shock. “Debil! You killed him!”

“No no no. He’s not dead. He passed out from hyperventilation. Too much oxygen in his blood. Happens all the time to the ponies back home if they need to descend the mountains quickly. He’s still breathing, so he’ll be fine.” Gyle said, reassuring his anxious companion. He took Lock Love in his arms and stood up on his hind legs. “Let's find some shelter for this poor guy so he can recover. After everything he’s probably been through being a slave and I went and got him hurt. Damn it all.”

Cann took the lead, heading for the scrap house that Lock had initially been trying to check out before the ants showed up. “Niet. Don’t worry yourself. Couldn’t have known. We check for medical supplies. Come.”

After a few moments of trying to turn the handle on the door, Cann kicked the door in frustration. The door didn’t budge but the kick was answered. “Hello? Who is there? If you’re raiders do beware!” The door was cracked open just enough for a gunbarrel to be pointed through and a striped face to be seen. “Speak! Or your bodies will leak.”
> Chapter 2: A Lesson Learned, Lessons Loved
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 2: A Lesson Learned, Lessons Loved

The Zebra, a chieftain as it turned out, had allowed the three ponies into the long house. Inside were several families of zebras all living under the same roof. Lock Love was provided a small hammock to recover in while Cann and Gyle spoke with the chieftain over bowls of soup. 

Lock Love awoke to the sweet smell of soup and the sounds of zebras of all ages milling about the Longhouse. He moved to sit up to get a better look at his surroundings but found his efforts thwarted by a heavy hoof on his forehead pushing him back down into the pillows. “No don’ chu be movin, dear.” Came a heavily accented mare’s voice. Looking down on him was Zebra wearing some sort of paint on her face, and a thermometer sticking out of her mouth. “Let me check ya over ‘fore ya get up an join dem friends, yors.” 

The Zebra pulled the thermometer out and popped it into Lock’s mouth. “Don’ bite.” She said, forcefully as she began pulling out various doctor tools and set about using them. As he was given a full check up, he couldn’t help but notice that this Zebra was different from the others. Where as all the other Zebras in this building had black and white stripes, this one displayed bright red stripes over her soft white coat.

“Nephita!” Called an older Stallion’s voice, interrupting the doctor. “Our guests are willing to assist. Can you supply them with medicines from your list?” 

Nephita pulled the Thermometer out of Lock’s mouth and gave it a quick look before popping it back into her own mouth. “Jur okay, Eat.” She said, forcing the bowl of soup Lock had smelled earlier into his hooves. She turned to look in the direction the voice had come from. “Yah. I got somt’n for em. But it’aint much.” With that, she walked off, allowing Lock to sit up for a better view.

The longhouse seemed to be housing more zebras than it should be, with adhoc bunkbeds pressed into overly tight spaces. It looked like the whole town had moved in here. In the center area, which had been cleared for sitting and eating, was a fire pit complete with oversized pot still steaming with its savory contents. Sitting on old rehabilitated lawn chairs were Lock’s new masters and an old looking Zebra with a fancy headdress on. They were talking avidly as Nephita showed them a satchel filled with bandages and medicines. It looked more like a first aid kit to Lock, he hoped they wouldn’t get hurt more seriously than what a first aid kit could provide for. 

Since he wasn’t about to disobey anypony, he decided to pick up his soup and start eating. It was every bit as good as the savory sweet smell in the air. Lock guessed that it was made with Mutfruit and Tubers. Though the seasonings he couldn’t quite place. 

He was just about done when he heard the clacking of Gyle’s Talons coming his way. His heart leaped. He was still lying in the bed while his master was clearly coming to give him a command. He choked down the last chuncks from the soup and threw himself out of bed, standing at attention with his head lowered. “I’m sorry Master Gyle. It won’t happen again I promise.” He pleaded quietly, awaiting the punishing strike that would surely follow. He waited, gritted teeth, eyes focused on a single spot on the floor, all concentration on what he did wrong and bearing the pain of his failure. 

Gyles Talons stopped, just within view, but didn’t raise up to strike him. Was he going to use his beak? His beak looked sharp, Lock would definitely be bleeding for awhile if that were the case, did Gryphons eat ponies? “What do you mean?” Asked Gyle, cutting off Lock Love’s thoughts. Oh no! Lock had clearly made a mistake so great that apologies wouldn’t work. That docotr must have cost caps. Oh no! He had cost his master caps! “Lock? You didn’t do anything wrong. I was just coming over to see if you were okay.” Gyle used one talon to lift Lock’s gave upwards to see how concerned Gyle had been. “ARE you okay?”

A wave of relief, mixed with a tornado of confusion swept over Lock as he tried to process what had just happened. “Y-yes? I think so. Yes definitely. I’m fine now.” What was going on? How could a master not punish him after causing them to purchase the service of a doctor? He had gotten punished for causing expensive doctor’s visits before and some slaves were even killed for costing too many caps to keep alive. Why wasn’t he being punished now? Was this gryphon new to being a master or something? Regardless of all the questions buzzing around in his head, he knew he needed to show more strength to not cause it to happen again. 

The talons around Lock’s face were removed with a smile from Master Gyle. “Alright then. So those Ants from earlier have been terrorizing the village-pon… Village-Zebras here. Apparently it's whenever that bell tower rings. So we’re going to go up there and cut the bell down. You good to come along?” Gyle explained. Grabbing Lock’s stuff from beside the bed and throwing the saddle bags onto his back. Lock assumed he didn’t actually have a choice and simply nodded. “Awesome, c’mon. Let’s get going.” He turned and walked over to Master Cann who was still talking to Nephita. 

“Da, Da, This doesn’t help still. None of us are medicine mare. Bandages, yes, nothing else.” Stated Cann, matter of factly. He was holding pink bandage rolls and trying to push the first aid satchel back to Nephita, who was getting annoyed with the stallion’s stubbornness. 

Nephita pushed the satchel back to Cann. “Take deh whole ting! I don’ wan’chu dead. Too much work!” 

Lock saw Cann’s face lock into stone. He was very clearly getting frustrated. It was probably for the best that Lock spoke up then. “I know first aid. I can use everything in there.”

The short lived argument stopped as both the Zebra Mare and Cann looked to the ash black stallion. “You can?” Asked Nephita and Cann simultaneously. 

“Ah perfect.” Said cann, snapping back to a happy demeanor. “We take medicines then.” Nephita just rolled her eyes, handed the satchel over and walked away. On her way to mix in with the other zebras she put a hoof on Lock’s should and whispered a thanks. Lock nodded, making a master happy was one of his specialties. A good specialty to have in his honest opinion. Cann hoofed the Satchel over to Lock Love. “Here, you’re doctor pony now. Come, we go to break bell.” 

“Yes of course.” Lock answered before eyeing the satchel. It had three rolls of pink bandages that smelled like healing potions, several antiseptics, thread, five needles, and a single bottle with a hoof written label called ‘Purge’. Lock didn’t have time to read it but it’s use seemed obvious enough. He pocketed the satchel and follow his masters out the door and back into town. 

Their destination was the school house they had seen earlier whose bell had remained silent since the ants arrived earlier. The bell itself had been obscured by metal bars, stopping Gyle from simply flying up there. They would have to go inside the schoolhouse to get to the actual bell tower. 

The double doors that served as the entrance had long since been boarded up. After a few failed attempts to pry the boards off, Cann decided to simply blast them off with his shotguns. A few blasts and they were in. The doors creaked open under the force from the final shotgun shell, revealing a darkened hallway that seemed to lead all the way to the back of the school house. There were five doors, on on the left hoof side all the way at the end of the hall and four more on the right, spaced out almost evenly from the back to the front. 

“HELLO!?” Gyle shouted, only getting a slight echo in response. He shrugged looking at his companions. “I guess nobody's home.”

Cann Nodded. “Da, we salvage while we’re here. Watch for bugs.” He said, marching forward. 

The First door on the right went to Cann to search. From Lock’s point of view it seemed to be an older, smaller, version of a stable common area. He had been to the one at Final Spark’s stable many times. There were tables folded up and set to the side to make room for a court that was probably used for indoor sports. 

The next two doors would have gone to Gyle but they turned out to just be the filly’s and Colt’s rest rooms, which just left the last two doors at the very end. The duo moved on to the last door on the right, pushing the door open only to have it collapse onto the ground in a cloud of dust and rotting wood. Gyle coughed profusely as he reeled from the plume of old dust. “Aw! Pffftt oh no it’s in my mouth. Pffft PPPPPFFFFTTTT. Bleh! That’s not coming out. But look, stairs going up. That’s probably our way to the tower.” He was pointing to a spiral staircase made of rotting wood and a pile of dust that was probably an inch thick. “Let’s check that last room before we head up. What do you say Lock? Maybe we can pick up chalk?” Lock didn’t know why chalk was important but he nodded in agreement. 

The last room proved difficult to get into, the door being sealed shut by it’s melted hinges. Gyle and Lock hand to ram the door several times to bust it open. Inside was a large class room with a play area in the back that was currently being occupied by a much more serious looking bombshell. There was a boarded up hole in the ceiling where it must have crashed into the building. 

“Oh damn, Ponies are messed up.” Gyle commented, looking at where the bomb had wound up at the end of the war. “Foals? Really?” As bad as it made Lock feel, this didn’t seemed to be aimed towards him specifically. Gyle looked over to Lock. “You have a PipBuck right? Is that thing still hot?”

Lock looked down to the PipBuck and held it out in front of him. PipBucks could detect magical radiation and would begin clicking if there was enough to cause noticeable harm. The tiny leg mounted computer didn’t even click a little bit. He decided to scoot closer. Nothing. Closer still and nothing to be heard. He was almost touching it and there still was even the faintest hint of Magic Radiation. This close he could see why. 

Off to the side, the bomb’s casing had rusted and cracked open, spilling its contents into ground below the school’s floor. It was hard to see inside, but it looked as though there was a deep pit underneath the bomb that must have safely disposed of the radioactive materials. “I think it’s safe. I think the balefire fluid leaked out.” Said Lock, pointing to the rusted section of the zebra bomb. “Also, I think it was Zebras.” He added noting the stripes painted on the bomb casing.

“What?” Asked Gyle.

Lock Love fidgeted, realizing he had made yet another mistake. He shouldn’t have corrected his master. Maybe he could turn it around? Maybe he could just use this chance to show how useful he was. “The bomb, it’s Zebra make. This bomb had a Necromantic Liquid Payload. Equestrian models use solid crystal spell matrices set to a contact switch at the tip of the shell.” He pointed to the crack in the casing. “The only way for this bomb to not be radioactive with a crack like this is if the payload was missing. So, I’m guessing it was liquid, which would make it a Zebra bomb.”

Gyle sat back on his paws and scratched his head. “How do you know this stuff? You’re well educated for a slave. Most slaves I’ve seen can barely read.”

Phew! That was close, it seemed like Lock’s impressive skill disguised the fact that he had done something bad. He perked up, happy to share about how he was trained. “My first ever master lived in a laboratory with lots of books! He taught me to read so I could help him out. Most of the books there were all about this kind of stuff. That and computer code.”

“Huh.” Gyle said, folding his arms in thought. “You know, your talents were clearly wasted as a slave. I’m glad Cann and I got to you before some other asshole. If we get the chance, I’d love to get you up north to the Crystal Conclave. We have a huge library you’d probably adore.” He chuckled to himself before continuing. “And the librarians would love you too.” He stood up and began checking through the student’s desks. 

Crystal Conclave? Lock assumed it was Gyles home town, and probably had something to do with that crystal around his neck. The library did seem interesting. He had a love for books and relished the rare chances that he got to read them after being sold off from his first master. But one word didn’t quite register. “Librarian?” He asked, meandering about to look for useful things. There was a coat rack that still had some things hanging from it in the corner. 

Gyle toppled a desk over after clearing out the contents to remind himself that it was empty. “Yeah, tall white owl guys. They mind the library and its secrets. They remember everything and know everything. Don’t piss them off by doing anything stupid, like say; shoving a block of packed snow in the returns chute with a note that says I.O.U..” He toppled another desk after looting some sort of magazine and shoving it inside his armor.

Lock flipped one of the hanging objects around to discover that it was a pristine Spidermare saddlebag. It looked so cool! The was a mare swinging from the tall buildings in Manehattan all while wearing a full body suit that was blue and red and webs all over it! He wanted it really bad. Slaves didn’t really deserve cool stuff like this, but these masters had been letting a lot of things slide. Maybe it would  be okay to push his luck? He could tell them it was just to carry more stuff for them… Yeah that would work. He needed a distraction. “That um.. That seemed very specific.” He asked, hoping Gyle’s attention would stay on talking about his home.

“Well-” Gyle said, stopping momentarily to look towards Lock who appeared to be fiddling with a random assortment of packs and coats on the rack. Lock love tensed up, feeling beads of sweat forming at the back of his neck. The moment seemed to drag on forever before gyle upturned the last desk and started heading for the teacher’s desk. “I was drunk, it’s a long story. How about you tell me how you learned about first aid?” He said, in an obvious attempt to divert the conversation elsewhere. 

This was perfect. Lock quickly picked the saddlebag off its hook and stuffed it into his old master’s saddlebags while Gyle was distracted. Of course, now that he thought about it, slaves were really not suppose to have good things. Mid-way through stuffing the bags in something large and solid slid out and slapped against the wood floor with a muted boom. There on the floor laid a huge science book. 

Locks hairs all went on end, knowing he had been caught trying to take things for himself. He slowly turned his head to look at his gryphon master, tears already beginning to form in his eyes. Gyle was staring back at him, fully alert of the situation. “You alright?” He asked, cutting the tension like a puppet’s strings. 

The weight of fear that had pressed itself down on Lock suddenly vanished. Gyle hadn’t seemed to notice what he was doing at all. Lock quickly brushed away his tears and nodded. “Yeah, I found a book.” He said, continuing to stuff the Spidermare pack into his bags.

“What kind?” Gyle asked, talons still deep in the teacher’s desk. 

Lock panicked for a second. In the excitement he had forgotten. He looked down to read the title again. ‘Science! For Eggheads’. Oh! Duh, how could he have forgotten a title like that. “Um, Science book?”

Gyle waved his talon dismissively diving back into the desk. “Not interested. You can have it.”

The world seemed to go still for Lock Love, confusion reaching its peak. He must have heard something wrong. Slaves weren’t allowed to ‘have’ things. Even the things he was holding on to belonged to his old master, and he was the Spidermare bags he was taking without permission. “You mean, to keep?” He asked, feeling as though time itself had stopped, trying to make sure that circuit in the universe hadn’t simply shorted out to allow such an atrocity to occur. 

“Yeah sure, whatever. That’s what scavenging is all about, if no one else needs it keep it- oh! Chalk!” Gyle said, sounding excited about finding chalk. He proceeded to shake the little box and then count how many pieces were still left. 

What Gyle had said took a moment to sink in. He was allowed to keep it and call it his own? He levitated the book up, reading the title allowed. “Science, For Eggheads.” He felt a tight pain in his chest and tears began to form. They weren’t the tears of fear like earlier, these were warm and welcome. He couldn’t help himself as the muscles in his face briefly contorted before snapping into a silly feeling grin. “I’m an egghead.” He said to himself, holding the book to his chest and hugging it dearly. It was old, worn, and a little bit faded but it was his. His very first, really his, thing.

Quickly turning to face the coat racks again, Lock happily sobbed as his searched for anything else that might be useful. His vision had gone blurry from the water in his eyes but he was so happy that he didn’t really care. He kept a tight hold one the book with one fore hoof as he searched, a small part of him not willing to let it go as though losing contact with the book would make it disappear. 

After a few more minutes of searching, Lock found a Fancy Buck Cake and an unused juicebox but not much else. He was told to hold onto them incase he needed a snack later. When they met up with Cann in the hallway later on they found him covered from head to tail in radroach bit and guts. His only comment was ‘Don’t ask’. Gyle just shrugged and Lock wasn’t willing to disobey the command, regardless of how curious he was. 

They stood at the entrance to the Belltower while Cann picked insect legs and antennae out of his mane. “Okay, last on list is breaking of bell.” Cann looked at the narrow spiral staircase and grimmaced. “Oi, one at a time then.” He brushed some goop out of his beard and shifted his mechanical harness before stepping up onto the stairs. “Cann goes first, I have best guns for small spac- ARGH!” CRACK!! As he pressed down on the first step the wood gave way, trapping Cann’s hoof inside the decrepit wood. “Ah! Debil!!!” He cursed, trying to free his hoof from the wood. “Gryphon goes first then. I must stay here.”

Gyle just shook his head. “Sorry that space is way too narrow for me.” He fluffed up his wings to emphasizes his point. “Those stairs were clearly made with just ponies in mind. Lock, That’s all you.”

Lock smiled brightly, tears threatening to form in his eyes again. There was something that he could do for his masters that only he could do? “Of course, right away.” He levitated his science book out of his arms and into his saddle bags so that he could use all four legs to slide past Cann. Once on the step, he found that they supported his weight just fine since he wasn’t wearing any armor, though the creaking of wood under him with every movement made him nervous. “Just, Break the bell right?” He asked, prompting a nod from both masters. 

Each step was made cautiously, slowly pressing his weight against each step until it was supporting his entire weight. Climbing the tower seemed to take ages and more than once a faulty step caved in, halting his progress until he could climb up to the next one. Eventually his slow climb was rewarded with the faint beams of light piercing a wooden hatch. Lock pressed on the hatch to find that a metal lock had slipped into place long ago, preventing the door from being opened. From the wear in the wood, it looked as though something had been trying to pull the hatch open. Lock guessed that it must have been the wind passing through the tower, or maybe the bell vibrating the wood when it rings. He flicked the little mechanism and pushed the hatch open now that it was unlocked. 

The breeze at this height was crisp and made the day seem bright, even with the eternal cloud cover blocking the sun. Climbing out of the stairway, he immediately turned to look out over the town. He could see everything from here and couldn’t help let a quiet ‘Wow’ escape his lips. He could see all the way from a the large gates, which were currently closed, to the abandoned mine at the other side of town, with the Zebra’s longhouse dead in the center of town. 

Lock was pulled away from his sightseeing by a scraping sound behind him. He turned around to investigate the source of the scratching. At first he was horrified, his magical grip surrounding the handle of his old Master’s recharger rfile. After a moment he realized what he was looking at. 

In front of Lock Love was the upper torso of a decrepit looking unicorn mare, resting in the center of a mass of continuously rotting and healing flesh and bone. Her throat was missing entirely, leaving only a few supporting muscles and her spine to keep up her head, which was now drooping slightly to the side. This necromantic horror was a ghoul, a resident of the wasteland who had been cursed with eternal life in a rotting body due to exposure to magical radiation. She was scraping something into the wood in front of her. 

Lock relaxed. Even if the ghoul mare had been feral and wanted to eat him, there wasn’t much she could do while melted to the floor. He leaned over to see what she was scraping into the floor while staying far enough away that she couldn’t swipe at him. ‘Mrs. Melody Majesty.’ the first part had an arrow pointing to herself. “Melody Majesty, that’s your name?” He asked, hoping for some sort of answer.

To Lock’s surprise she nodded. She wasn’t feral. This ghoul had maintaintained her mind for over 200 years, all alone! Then it clicked. She must have been ringing the bell causing the ants to show up! Maybe he could just ask her to stop? “It’s uh, a pleasure to meet you Mrs. Melody. I’m up here because the bell keeps ringing and summoning a bunch of killer ants. I’m supposed to-” Before he could finish, Melody began swinging her hanging head back and forth as if to say no. “Oh, the bell isn’t summoning the ants?” He asked, guessing at what she meant.

Melody lifted a hoof to her snout and tapped it, the universal charades sign for yes. She went back to scratching in the wood. Which gave Lock an idea. “Oh hold on. I think I have a better way for you talk. Or, more specifically my master does. Please wait here.” He said, starting to shove hi rear legs into the hatch to get back to the stairs. Melody made a lame face as his last comment but ultimately nodded. 

After a little bit of convincing and a lot of Lock beating around the bush to try and explain why he needed Gyle’s chalk, he returned to the ghoulish mare with two pristine pieces of chalk. “Here!” He said, offering the chalk to her. 

Mrs. Melody happily plucked the chalk from luck with her magic, which seemed to still be very strong. She immediately went to writing on the nearby wall, stopping from time to time to remember how to write certain letters. ‘I’m ringing the bell to warn the town ponies.’ she wrote. 

Nocturne nodded, understanding what she was doing. “They’re Zebras actually. And how do you know the ants are coming?” He asked out of curiosity. He gave himself the excuse of gathering information that could keep his masters safe later. 

Chalk went to wall again, with a great deal of energy. It was obvious that Mrs. Melody was enjoying the idea of a conversation. ‘Either way, Their music has been keeping me sane all these years.’ She waited for a moment before erasing the words and continuing. ‘ as for detecting the ants, I just use music. Watch. ‘ After waiting a few moments to let Lock read, Melody let her horn glow a gentle orange like the rest of her magic. A small mote of energy popped into existence Vibrating with the sound of a violin. It began playing a single note that rose in pitch until it was was unbearable to hear. Before Lock could ask her to stop the sound vanished all together, but the mote was still vibrating as if playing that same note. 

Something he had read long ago clicked in his brain. “You’re using Sonar!?” He asked, hardly able to contain his excitement over this new way to use magic. The mare tapped her snout, even managing to smile at the sight of somepony with the spark to learn. She pointed for him to watch the mote of energy as it slowly began to take shape. What was once just a ball of orange energy was now a window into the mines deep below. Lock could make out tunnels and hundreds of small moving dots crawling around the tunnels. “So with your music magic you’ve been watching the ants and warning the towns zebras whenever they get too close to the surface?” He asked. Once again Lock was rewarded with Mrs. Melody patting her snout in agreement. “You’re amazing Mrs. Melody Majesty! I’m sure with this information the Zebras will sing for you every day!”

Mrs. Melody began convulsing, a smile on her face. If Lock had to guess, she was doing her best version of a laugh. After a few seconds her fit passed and she went to write on the wall again. ‘You remind me of my students. Can I teach you something?’

This was probably the most Lock had smiled in a single day ever in his life. Both the offer and the comparison made him blush. He nodded, not willing to turn her down. “Sure, I’m happy to learn.” Maybe he could use it to help his masters, whatever it was.
> Chapter 3: The Witch Doctor's Curse
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 3: The Witch Doctor's Curse

Lock Love meandered down the steps in a good mood, a smile printed on his face. With a new spell under his belt, taught to him by Mrs. Melody, we would be even more helpful than before. He didn’t even mind the protesting shrieks from the ancient wooden steps as he made his way to the ground floor. There waiting for him, looking incredibly concerned, were Lock’s latest masters. Both of them looked ready to spring forward at a second’s notice. 

“Lock? Are you okay?!” Gyle said, looking every bit concerned as Lock reached the cracked tiles of the ground floor. “We were worried sick about you!”

The idea that Lock was in some sort of immediate danger was rather baffling to him. Of course, Lock was in too high of spirits to express his confusion. He kept on smiling, letting his masters know that everything was just great! “Mrs. Melody was very kind to me! She taught me new magic!”

Cann smacked one hoof upside his own head. “Dybil! That is not what Gryphon means. You move down steps, and there is such a racket that-” Just then pile of the wooden steps from the staircase chose this moment to crash down around the coal black stallion, finally having giving way to the abuse of time and recent use. Dust billowed out blinding the trio until the debri had fully settled. 

There and surrounded by crushed wood in a neat circle stood Lock Love, completely untouched, with a smile on his face.  The hallway echoed with laughter as Lock looked around at the ridiculous position he found himself in. It was just so funny! He had never had a day like this, and thought it should be impossible. Compliments, care, respect, and even a whole magic lesson from an expert! To top it all off; instead of having it all ripped away from him, like what was cosmically correct, a death trap that he had completely ignored just crumpled around him leaving him in perfect health! The irony that all this was happening to a slave was just all too much! Lock bent over, tears forming in his eyes as he laughed the ridiculousness of it all away.

Of course, being in the middle of it and watching it were too different things. While Lock laughed up a storm, Gyle and Cann looked on at Lock with ever deepening concern. “He almost dies and keeps to the laughing. Reminding of Canns favorite Pink Pony.” He started rifling through his saddlebags looking for something that was clearly quite small. “Slave pony Lock Love.” He said, just loud enough to get Lock’s attention. “Here, found this in other room. Mislabeled package with precious toy.” He pulled out a small statuette of a pronking pink pony with poofy pink mane and tail. An inscription at the base read ‘Awareness! It was under “E”!’. “Cann was going to keep it for fan-filly reasons. He is guessing this is more fitting.”

It was all overwhelming! First a book, now a toy!? Lock had always wanted a toy. He began reaching out for, one tentative hoof pausing in front of the tiny statuette. He looked to Cann, feeling like colt who might be looking up to a praising father figure, his wide smile unbreakable at this point. “I can really have this?”

Cann’s bushy beard shifted, a smirk showing through the fuzz. “Mhm, Pink pony is very strong. At all times she smiles. Makes the joy and laughing. Cann grows up in Stalliongrad, loving her many posters and her always watching. Makes Cann feel safer. There is that same smile here. Lock Love has power to laugh at danger and smile in sad place such as this.” He pressed the toy into Locks’ hoof. “Cann believes this. You will make this Wasteland smile too.”

Lock love felt a certain warmth in his chest as he held onto the pink pony statuette, a song ringing in his heart. He look the time to look over every detail, from top to bottom and even the detail placed in the inscriptions. After over 200 years absolutely no detail had been lost, no paint flaking off, and no scratches of any kind. The statuette was in perfect condition, and it had been entrusted to him along with the belief of his master! This was truly the best day of Lock Love’s life. 

After a couple of minutes, Lock felt a tugging in his mind that urged him to look away from the small toy. Gyle and Cann were halfway down the hallway, heading for the exit. Wait, when did that happen!? He carefully placed his statuette into his saddle bags alongside his book and Spider-Mare bags and hurried down the hallway to catch up. 

Gyle pushed the school doors opened, holding it for the rest of the group to exit the building. “So, Lock. What’s the game plan?”

Following Cann out onto the road, Lock looked back to Gyle a tad confused. “May I ask what you mean master?”

The leather bound gryphon released the schoolhouse door and leaned against the wall with his forelegs crossed, preferring to stand on his rear legs at the moment. “Well you’re the pony with all the information right now. You watched that orb, you spoke with the ghoul in the tower. The way I see it you’re holding all the cards until we figure this mega-ant thing out. Plus, you’re probably the smartest one here.” He chuckled at that last statement, lighting a cigarette that he pulled out of his feathers and popping it into his mouth. “Taking a wild fucking guess at that one.” He said, putting as much sarcasm as he could into it. 

As confusing as this statement was to Lock, Cann seemed to just grunt in acknowledgment. Putting the idea that he was somehow smarter than a master aside for the moment he did have to admit that he did have the information Gyle had mentioned. In all honesty he had almost forgotten about the damaged memory orb, then again remembering it was rather painful in every aspect. “If it helps, I can try to think of something for you.” He offered, trying his best to be ever helpful. 

Gyle simply nodded, waiting for a response as he took a long drawl on his drug of choice. 

When it came down to the details, Lock realized, he actually had quite a bit that seemed to match up. There was the information from the orb, the ability to access the mines under the town. The sonar from Mrs. Melody show ants moving through tunnels that Lock assumed were simply expanded on from the original mine. And then there was the emptied out bombshell, which probably fueled the mutation of these over sized ants. Of course there was just one thing still missing, Why were the ants only just now attacking? Clearly the Zebras had been living here for some time before these troubles began. If he could find out why, maybe they could stop the ants and then Masters Gyle and Cann could collect their rewards. 

Lock looked up to Gyle after a moment of Contemplation. “When I think about the information I’ve gathered so far. I think the last thing I would need to know to give you an answer is why the ants are attacking to begin with. I should be able to figure that out if I can learn what happened before the first attack.” He said, hoping that his answer was sufficient to appease his masters.

Before Gyle could answer, Cann bellowed out a laugh. “Yes good! We go to see the Zebras then. Learn from their stories. Come comrades!” Cann marched off happily, glad to have found a direct to point himself in. In many ways, Lock could relate to his straight forward approach. Direction was a very good thing for making decisions!

The Zebras were more than happy to see the trio return, believing that their troubles were over. They were stomping on the ground in applause before Gyle had to cut them off. “Please please, hold your applause! We’re not done here quite yet.” 

“Ants will still be coming.” Cann chimed in, cutting off the chieftain before he could ask any questions. “We make answers for this problem. But first comes the questions. Who knows about first ant attack?!” His voice boomed through the long house, carrying a slight menace. Whether he was aware of it or not, he sounded both angry and disappointed as though he were a father who recently learned of his foal misbehaving in class.

The Zebras looked around at each other aimlessly but fearful of not having an answer for the heavily armed earth pony. After what seemed like an eternity of silence, one mare pushed her way through the throng of stunned zebras. “I know bout dem first attacks.” Came the red striped Nephita. As she stepped forward, the Chieftain moved to stop her. A single pressed hoof from Nephita to the Chieftain’s chest was enough to have him sit back down. “We be talkin in meh shack. Don’ ya worry now. No Ants be gettin in dere.” She motioned for the door, which Cann and Gyle made for without much pause. Lock Love waited to follow after the nice Zebra mare.

It was a little concerning to Lock, regarding what had just happened. Why had Cann acted so angry? More than that, why had the Zebras acted like they were guilty? Lock realized he was missing something important here that only masters would understand, but feared that not understanding it might put either him or his masters in danger. It would be wrong for a slave to let harm come to their masters right? It would be better if he asked. He decided it would be best to ask whenever he got the chance. The Zebra mare, Nephita, seemed nice enough to ask.

Nephita’s shack was actually a run down medical clinic that had tribal masks and strange herbs hanging from it’s walls both inside and out. From the appearance of these items and the furniture inside, Lock assumed that this place had been dressed similarly before the bombs even fell. There were ancient paints on the walls depicting the vast yellow fields of the Zebra homelands and various Mares and Stallions from their past. The masks and herb hooks all seemed to have been placed where the mural would emphasize their importance.

Though most of the clinic’s lobby area was decorated much like it had most likely been in the past, the clerk’s desk that can usually be found in the lobby had been completely removed in favor of a rather comfortable set of living room furniture that had been weaved from more wastelandish materials. Lock actually spotted the pole of a stop sign that had been bent to support something that greatly resembled a couch.

“Okay. Sit an’ I be talkin wichu about dem ants. Tea?” Asked Nephita gesturing to the furniture in front of her. 

Though Cann was more than ready to step on over and listen to the story, Gyle pulled Cann over to the side to speak with him first. Lock wasn’t able to hear anything but his eyes kept darting from Lock to Nephita has he whispered into his companion’s ear. After a few seconds Cann just nodded in agreement letting out a light grunt. “Cann and Gryphon will be no good for listening. You tell to him.” He said, pointing over to Lock.

Wait what!? No that’s not right, this was important stuff that they needed to hear. Sure Lock was putting the answer together for them but why would they intentionally let valuable information go? He had to shake of the surprise, of course he was doing this ‘for’ them. He was providing a service. Sure it was a new service, but a service nonetheless. He resolved to see this through to the end. 

Nephita smiled, seemingly put at some ease by this decision. “Yes ah’ see. Come den Tall’n Dark. Dis story for yor ears.” She began walking into the back of her hut, brushing aside a curtain of strange beads to reveal a short dark hallway. There didn’t seem to be any light behind the curtain and Lock was being lead away from his masters. It was enough to get him to question what was going on again.

Lock looked back to his masters, who just waived him forward, with a deal of worry on his face. They didn’t seemed too concerned and Masters know best. He pressed forward into the darkened hallway, heart in his throat. Inside the hallway he could see strange shapes that were just obscured enough to not be identified, and two piercing blue lights all the way at the end that floated about like lost spirits that had been forever trapped in this mare’s home. He was beginning to have third thoughts until he felt Nephita at his tail. “Go to dem dere lights an’ we ben on deh lef.” She gave him a light push, telling him where to go. 

Though hesitant, Lock was more scared of disobeying than he was of the creepy lights in the distance. He moved forward as commanded. As he passed by the strange shapes in the dark, thin paper-like tendrils brushed against his coat, sending shivers down his spine. His imagination filled the darkness with stories of wasteland horrors; Dog monsters with knives for hands, plants that could flay a pony’s flesh in an instant, strange mutants infected with radioactive magical run off. All of this was put at bay as he approached the two blue spirits in the far back, ghosts of the long since deceased buzzing and humming as they grasped every wisp of magic just to stay alive. 

“Byutiful, no?” Came Nephita’s voice from behind, snapping Lock out of his dread. She brushed passed the scared slave and gave the jars containing the wispy blue lights a light tap with her hoof. What was at first creepy little blue motes of light, filling out the jars, bloomed to light up the hallway in a gently electric blue. “Thunde’ Mites. Deh make natural lightnin and glow pretty nice too.” 

The thunder mites buzzed about the jars quite happily, occasionally landing on fruit preservatives that had been placed inside. Lock looked behind him, filling the hall were herbs and flowers placed to make the hallway prettier in the blue light. He smiled, feeling blood rush to his cheeks. A small joyful voice in the back of his head just laughed as though nothing in the world could have ever been wrong. ‘Ha, Ha, HA!’ He felt a giggle build up in his throat but suppressed it to a snort. “Yes, Beautiful. Sorry I hadn’t seen them before and thought they were ghosts.”

This brought out a short bout of laughter from Nephita. “Oh no no. Dere be no ghosts ‘roun ‘ere.” She continued to the left, leading him into a room that had no door attached to it. The The blue of the hallway gave way to a warmer orange light, followed by a heat that seemed to radiate off of four large flowers in each corner of the room. The room was small but contained a large assortment of vials, jars, and bowls resting on a desk and several opened cabinets. Taking up the majority of the room was a large metal bed that was bolted into the floor. A cursory look would tell most anypony that the bed had been there since even before the war began. 

Lock was motioned to sit up on the bed while Nephita starting mixing materials into a wide and shallow bowl. “You have an interesting home.” Lock stated idly, looking about. He was a tad nervous, being surrounded completely by a different culture, and took to fiddling with his bomb collar. He wished the pretty red light was still working, but found it was much easier to wiggle the collar around now that it had broken.
“Tanks, Tall and Dark. Dis ere’ buildin was fix’t up by meh ancestors. Eh keep ‘t all tugetha. Dis rooms’ bin mine since I was jus’ a foal. Bron ‘ere Figure I die ‘ere too!” She laughed at that, dropping something into her bowl that cause a large puff of smoke to billow out. For just a brief second, Lock could see where those stories of evil witchdoctors making witches brews came from. The laughing mixed with tiny explosions was enough to put Lock’s coat hairs on end. Though, knowing how nice she was in real life made all the fear seem rather silly. “Now look ‘ere.” Nephita continued placing the bowl on the bed and climbing up to sit opposite Lock. “Wit’in dis bowl is meh story. Listen well-” Lock suddenly felt a little dizzy as the smoke rising from the bowl billowed out and Nephita’s words began to distort and wobble. Somehow he was able to undertand it all much better than before. “- an’ yu too will undeh stand how this all began. But for it all to make sense, you must hear things as I did.”

Everything that was Lock’s vision slowly faded along with Nephita’s words, as she began telling her story, replaced with images and sounds that could be seen through the water in the bowl. After just a short period of time lock was watching and hearing events play out from the perspective of Nephita.


	000---000


“Nephita!” Came the voice of the Village Elder, he sounded worried and excited. Nephita deftly packed her medical kit, filling it with herbs and freshly cleaned tools. Throwing the small yellow medical tin onto her back, she rushed through her shack with all the urgency of a medical professional.

Bursting through the beaded curtain, Nephita took stock of her living area. “N’Batu! I’m here! Who is hurt!?” She looked at the floor, seating areas, and even the backs of her two visitors for any zebra that might have been hurt. Seeing nothing, she took a cautious stance as she looked over to her Elder.

N’Batu, looking panic stricken, trotted up to Nephita. “Oh no, this is much worse than an infection, cuts, or sickness! The end of our village is what we now witness!” N’Batu motion to Nephita’s other guest, a Zebra wearing some sort of skin-tight armor with cloak and bat talisman. He was hard to focus on, as though the world intentionally wanted him to be easy to miss. 

“Kwebiqu? What are doing here?” Nephita asked the other Zebra. She sounded rather puzzled that he would even show his face, insulted even. “Are you bringing the news that is scaring N’Batu? You know he is a storyteller, his imagination runs wild with troubles.” She colded.

The hard to see guest, Kwebiqu, just held up a hoof in solidarity. “Please be at ease sister. I meant no harm. What he states is true though. A huge band of Raiders moved into our scavenging area. We are completely cut off from food and trading supplies. We have nothing left to sustain our people. And you know very well that our little tribe can’t wander out into the wasteland. The pony folk will pick us off as quick as they can. Unless we find something new to trade within the next week, we will not have enough food to feed the foals” He said, pleading Nephita to listen to him.

Nephita, hesitated looking from one stallion’s face to the next seeing the grief written on them. “You’ve seen this with your own eyes?” She asked, holding a tone that indicated she was ready to make a decision. Kwebiqu nodded, hardening his gaze. “Then I suppose you want me to finish Mother’s work?” Once again Kwebiqu nodded.

The images in the bowl gave way to a cloud of swirling smoke before parting again to reveal a new scene. Nephita was standing amongst a group of ants that were just a little taller than her knees. The ants seemed docile, even friendly. She was mixing a series of strange ingredients together and distilling various fluids on a rather elaborate chemistry table deep within a hollowed out cavern. “Just a tad more little queen.” She said to a larger ant with an over swollen abdomen. The Ant Queen clicked at her as though in understanding. Meanwhile, Nephita fixed a fiery green substance with something that resembled honey. “All of your stillborns will come to us, and I will keep you healthy. We can help each other, like mother said.”

Once again the images swirled away into another scene. This time Nephita was slamming open a door in anger. “You what!?” The room looked like a shop, where a zebra was trying to sell large slabs of ant meat to a pony trader. “Do you know what you’ve done!? We had a deal with the queen and it has been broken for caps!? She will wage war on us!” The pony shrank back, clearly not understanding what was going on. 

The shopkeeper waive to her in surrender. “No! You don’t understand Nephita! Please listen!” He began shielding his face as Nephita wound up to punch him in the face. “It was Kwebiqu! He brought the meat to me. I just sell it!”

“Kwebiqu! Why?” The images shifted again, more rapidly to reveal Kwebiqu at the entrance to the mines, carrying a bandolier of chems and a disturbingly happy grin from ear to ear.
He responded, pulling out a toy pop gun and aiming it at Nephita. “HAHAHA! It’s so Funny! Isn’t it? Oh the irony! Now the only thing keeping you alive is the same thing that’s going to kill you! Same thing for me. Same thing for sister!”

Nephita seemed hesitant to move with the Pop Gun pointed at her for some reason. “With those raiders, the ants were our last option! These people were your family once!”

That prompted another laugh from Kwebiqu. “THOSE raiders are MY raiders! They’re Risio’s Raiders! I put them there! HAHAHA!” The Newly dubbed Risio Swung the Pop Gun over his shoulder, whipping out a vicious looking machete and charged for Nephita. Before the battle could continue, the images swirled away for the last time, leaving a near empty bowl with just a drop of water left inside.


000---000


Lock shook his head, clearing the slight fog that had formed in his mind from the vision bowl. He looked up to Nephita, concern and disbelief painting his face. “You knew?”