It isn't all doom and gloom in the magical, post-apocalyptic world of Fallout: Equestria.
Surprisingly enough, people don't usually spend their time being edgy, or violating, and or slaughtering each other on the daily basis as most side-fiction authors tend to make you think.
Sometimes, it's the small things in this savage land that make a wastelander's life worth living ... and for those who know where to look ... it's all Sunshine and Rainbowssomewhere in the Equestrian wasteland!
It’s been a decade or so when she was finally free to roam the Equestrian Wasteland without the fear of being killed. 15 years of torture and sadness has finally ended for her. For the first time in a long time, she was content. Happy. For a while, she decides to relive her past memories.
20 years ago, before the arrival of the Wasteland’s hero, Selena and her family found life difficult. But even then, they still could go on with their lives peacefully.
During this time, they used to live in a small town. It wasn’t the best place but it wasn’t bad. Everyone there were doing their part to keep the place running. In that humble town, Selena worked there as a teacher. To her, this job was the most important one in the whole land. Knowledge is power, she once thought.
Her husband worked as the town’s doctor, helping the injured and the ill. He was a great doctor and was really dedicated to helping out the poor fellows that pass by the town. Most of the time, he would not accept the caps the travellers try to give him. I help not for money but for the good of everyone, he once quoted
While the adults worked, the foals played with each other without a care in the world. Among the happy bunch of joys, a colt and a filly could often be seen acting as guardians over the smaller ones, though they tend to get in trouble with the other foals anyways. What a happy life for them indeed.
“Honey, how’s your day” Selena asked her husband as the family sat down to eat their dinner.
“Oh, it was fine,” He replied, smiling. “My clients today don’t look as bad as the others that came before them.”
Selena nodded and smiled too. Along with her husband, her day was great as well. Her students were paying attention, they understood everything she talked about, and est of all, they weren’t that noisy. And by looking at her foals’ faces, she could assume that their day was great too.
“So kids, what did both of you do today?” Selena asked them. “I hope you did not get into trouble again. You know we can’t always be there to talk you out.”
“Nope!” The happy looking colt replied. “We did not get into trouble this time.”
“Yeah!” The energetic filly agreed. “We just played by the rules like what you always say. I could say we had so much fun when nopony keeps on yelling at us!”
“I’m glad that both of you behaved yourselves while me and your mom were busy,” The father said with a relieved sigh. “I’m proud of you both.”
And they ate their dinner. While eating, Selena can’t help but think to herself that everything will be going to better soon.
15 years ago, everything changed. The community was suddenly attacked by a vicious group of raiders. Everyone tried to protect the place but it was no use. The raiders easily annihilated everything in their paths. Only a small number escaped the bloody massacre, Selena’s family included. More could have died if it weren’t for those who sacrificed their lives to buy time for the rest to escape. Despite the fact that she was given a second chance in life, she wept along with her foals on the way out of the place. Her husband has died for them.
They left their beloved town, their wonderful memories, their trusting friends, and their loving father and never looked back. They were alone, roaming around for who know how long. They have lost all hope, the happiness in their eyes slowly fading away as the darkness slowly sets in.
“Wake up,” Her husband urgently told her. “Wake up now!”
Selena woke up, annoyed that she had to get up at such a time. But with the tone of her husband’s voice, she knew it must be worth waking her up in the dead of the night.
“Why?” She asked him, yawning and stretching her wings. “What’s the problem?”
Then a noise that broke the silence of the night made her blood run cold. It was the crackling of gunfire, the source obviously near the walls. She knew this wasn’t the first time the town was attacked by raiders and she was usually calm during this events but this time, she found herself rushing to the foals’ room.
“Kids,” She said as she gently shook them. “Wake up.”
“What time is it?” Yawned the colt, rubbing his eyes. “Is it already morning?”
“N-No,” Selena replied. “But just wake up.”
The filly, sensing the fear in her mom’s voice got up and scratched her head.
“Mom, what’s wrong?” She asked.
Before Selena could answer, the house shook as they heard a loud explosion. The foals screamed in terror as both mother and father hugged them. Soon after, the sound of the emergency alarm blared. The town has been breached.
“Come on now,” The father quickly lead his family outside the house.
Selena and her husband knew where to go in this kinds of situations. The town’s mayor talked about an emergency escape plan a few months ago when the amount of raider attacks suddenly increased. They were lucky that the mayor thought of this idea.
As they ran towards the emergency exit tunnel, which was on the southern part of town, they encountered ponies, young and old, fleeing for their lives. Selena even noticed a pair of couples argue about what stuff they should save.
As they reached the tunnel, they were horrified to find out that it was still locked. This wasn’t right, she thought, they should have opened the tunnel by now. Selena noticed a group of maintenance workers. She decided to talk to them.
“Why is the gate still closed?” She asked them, getting frustrated. “Can’t you see that-”
“We know why everyone is here!” One of them yelled, scaring her a bit. “Look, there’s a problem with the mechanics. We’re trying our best to find and fix it.”
“How long do you think it will take?” She asked, hoping that it’ll be quick.
“About 15-20 minutes at best…” The worker replied.
All color have drained from her face as she tried not to faint. She shakily walked back to her family, but not before hearing one of them complain about the doors.
“Who’s idea was it to complicate the opening process of the tunnel’s doors?”
As Selena finally reached her family, she noticed that everyone seems to be listening to someone talk. She struggled to listen to what the speaker has to say.
“Everyone, I’m afraid that our end is near!” He cried. “The town’s guards are trying their best to keep them at bay but we know that they will easily be destroyed but I have a plan to save at least some of us from this impending doom.”
Everyone was desperate to get out of the situation. They urged the speaker to tell his plan. With a heavy sigh, he continued.
“This plan...it will be risky,” He said, looking at the crowd before him. “We know that the guards are too few to slow the raiders down...and we know if we don’t do anything, we will all get killed.”
Selena was shocked to hear this. She feared what he was going to say next.
“With a heavy heart,” He said with a shaky breath. “Our only way to let even a little of us survive is that we must fight.”
Everyone gasped. No, this couldn’t be, Selena thought, there has to be another way. She looked at his husband, who was listening intently to the speaker, and noticed his face. She knew what that face meant.
“Who’s with me?” The speaker asked.
“I!” Selena’s husband said without hesitation. Everyone looked at him before another volunteered as well. Soon, majority of the crowd has joined to fight the threat.
Selena turned to his husband and asked him, “Why? Why must you join?”
“For the good of everyone else,” He replied. “I’m sorry, my sweetheart, but I had no choice. I can feel their hesitation to join so I must be the first to say it. That way, at least those that do want to join knows they’re not alone.”
“But you might get killed!” Selena exclaimed, horrified at that thought.
“I will get killed…,” He slowly said. “But I will not die without a fight.”
“My dear, please think this through,” She tried to reason with him. “We need you. I need you…”
“Selena, my love, I know…,” He stroked the side of her face, trying to reassure her. “But you must understand, I need you to be strong. For the foals, for me...Please, you need to stay strong.”
She knew he made up his mind and no amount of talking can persuade him to change his choice. Instead, she hugged him as tight as she could, letting her tears go down her face and drop into the mane of her love of her life.
“I’m sorry it had to be this way,” He said as he hugged her back.
After a moment, they separated. Selena looked at him one more time, hoping that maybe he’ll come back safe and sound. Her husband gave her one last kiss before heading towards the group that volunteered.
Selena immediately noticed that her foals weren’t with her. She soon found them with a bunch of other foals, talking about what they would see out in the Wasteland. Hearing them talk with such optimism made her heart hurt. She knew that there was nothing good in the wasteland.
“Okay everyone, this would be the fight of our lives!” Selena heard her husband spoke out to the group. “And this could be our last fight as well. But remember, we are doing this for our friends and family. Stand tall and proud, feel and be brave, and take at least one of those raiders down with you, understand?”
Everyone in the group yelled out “yes” with a voice that strengthened them even more. They knew this could be the last day of their lives and knowing that everyone else was prepared to die for the sake of everyone else made them less scared and more prepared for what’s to come.
Not soon after, the group immediately went towards the gate of the town to buy some time. Their weapons may be weak but they knew how to use them with such deadly skills and bulls-eye accuracy.
The sounds of battle filled the air.
10 years ago, they had to face the cruel tests of the Wasteland. Selena knew how to survive out there but she feared for her foals. They both tried to cheer each other up but deep down, they were torn. Broken.
They roamed the wastes, trying to survive. They would salvage items from broken things, scavenge for food in old buildings, and in some cases, steal from another. It was terrible, for her and her foals, to suffer through such experiences. There were even times that they were being shot at. Luckily, no one got hurt but it left the foals traumatized.
“Mom, I’m hungry,” Her colt complained while they were resting in an abandoned home.
“Me too,” Her filly also said while clutching her tummy.
Selena can feel the tears in her eyes threatening to spill out. She was scared for her children, they nearly look like a ghoul now, with the lack of hair in some spots and their skeletal features could be nearly seen. They have ran out of food a few days ago and what’s left of their water was slowly dwindling. And worst of all, they can barely move, always feeling tired and hungry.
“Mom,” The colt weakly muttered. “When will daddy come back?”
That’s when she lost it. She cried as she hugged what’s left in her life, not wanting to let go. The foals, in response, hugged her back.
5 years ago, she walked the wastes. She was not the same mare as she had been years before. Anyone that would meet her during this time would be scared of her. Sometimes, she just wanted to talk to them, but deep down, she had lost all of the compassion she had. This was her darkest moment and she doesn’t want to remember it.
Now, at this point of her life, she is once more happy. She finally let go of all the things that made her suffer before. She finally forgave herself for what she had done bad to her family. She realized that life was too short to stay sad or mad. And she learned that lesson with the help of her family.
She finally reached a spot where she felt a sense of peace. She knew this feeling and she only felt it when it was there. During her first 10 years, the clouds blocked the sky, preventing her from seeing anything beyond the grey curtain. Everytime she would feel calm and peaceful, she would look up instinctively. It was like something wanted to be seen by her.
This time, there was no grey curtain to block her view. As she slowly looked up, she began to think of everything that made her happy: Her husband, her foals, her friends, her job, anything. What she saw brought a smile to her lips. She remembered seeing it from a pre-war textbook. The picture showed a very beautiful arch. She remembered wishing to see one. With her family.
“I wish everyone I knew could see this…,” Selena said to herself. “This...wonderful phenomenon of nature.”
She continued to look at the multi-colored arch that decorated the sky. Too bad she forgot what it was called. No matter, this is what she wished long ago and that wish has been partly granted. She felt a tear or two roll down her face, she couldn’t help it. It was beautiful.
Soon, it was time to go back to her new home. Ever since the NCR was formed, she eventually found a settlement kind enough to let her live there. She even found herself teaching once more.
What a world we live in, She thought, And what a life I made.
She placed down a flower she brought with her on each tombstone. 3 graves. Each serving as a reminder of what she had a long time ago. With one last look at the arch and at the graves, she left the place.
A memory surfaced to her mind, a memory 20 years ago. It involved herself, her foals, and her husband during a hard and dark time. A time when everyone in town were still struggling to keep it running.
“Oh dear...It seems we are low on food...again,” Selena muttered.
“It’s okay, Selena, the trading caravan will arrive soon,” Her husband reassured her.
“Do you think we have enough food to last us until they arrive?” She asked him.
“I don’t know,” He replied, sighing.
Suddenly, the foals entered the room where the parents are. They looked at them expectantly.
“I’m sorry kids but…”Selena sighed.
“It’s okay mom,” The colt quickly replied. “We are running out of food again, right?”
Selena nodded silently and sighed again. She had expected that the food would last until the caravan will arrive.What she did not expect was that some of the food would suddenly disappear. Was it a thief that took it? A mutated rat? Her foals? She did not know.
“I guess we have some dark days ahead of us…”Selena’s husband said as he stared out the window. As he said that, the two foals shook their head.
“I’d like to think otherwise,” The filly beamed.
“Yeah,” The colt agreed. “I remember one of my friends saying that in the end, everything will be…”
The whole family smiled at each other. They all have heard this statement many times now and it’s like the family motto for them. Like a group of ponies with one mind, they all said the phrase at the same time.
“Rainbows and sunshine.”
The Final Song - Sisters at Heart, by PrinceUniversa
I was poking at the microphone while I saying some random stuff those ponies would usually say when testing a microphone, “Testing, testing, one, two, three… Hello, is this thing working here?”
I saw my fellow artist nodding his head from my question, “It’s working my friend, but tell me… why you decided to this now when the war’s getting worse? I’m still trying to understand here…” I couldn’t help but let out a sigh from his question when I had told him a bunch of times about this. I feel like I could be here forever telling him about why I am doing this now.
I wanted to leave him in silence but that’d be rude of me to do so. That and sooner or later, friendship might end up disappearing from the face of Equestria. As much as I hate to say that, the road ahead looks to be heading towards that direction what with the Zebras getting desperate and all. I just let my brain churn the words I needed to say and told him why I’m doing this for the… fiftieth time I believe? Damn it all, I lost track of count, “Look, the two of us are not going to be able to live for so long if this war continues on. Might as well make our last song together and preserve it for the future right?”
I can see the expression on my friend’s face turning sour from my sentence. He hated the outcome of this whole war like me. We both knew that it was out of our hooves to change the course of history and yet we were putting up a façade to hide our worries about this whole thing. Everypony here was, “I just wished that it didn’t have to resort to… all of this… it’s been so long since…”
“We’ve been at war?” I finished his sentence. My friend just silently nodded to the answer. I let out another sigh escape me, “I know, but we have to keep a positive outcome out of all of this. Who knows? Maybe one day, a group of ponies… no, people, might save Equestria from its ashes and return it back to its original roots…” My friend returned his attention to me as he was bearing a smile to my answer. I was glad to see him at least jovial, if only for a while. He focused his attention back to the sound booth, but before all of that, this time I had a question. My friend was a bit off guard from the sudden question, “So where did you get the inspiration of this song you’ve written?”
He looked at me a bit surprised from it but the expression changed to one of delight, “Oh, so now I’m the one who has to repeat what I said before?” I raised an eyebrow in confusion from that answer. He chuckled from my reaction, “Teasing here! Anyway, would you believe that I got the inspiration of this song from the Head of the Ministry of Awesome and one of the presidents of Stable-Tec?”
Oh now this, I’ve heard of. Rumors about it were spreading like wildfire during the war. Though many find it relatively odd for those two, I found it to be rather endearing, “You mean the rumor involving Rainbow Dash and Scootaloo being supposedly sisters?”
I saw my friend nodding to my question pretty much confirming my answer, “Yep, and like you, I found it to be rather endearing. As a result of that, I’ve written lyrics about those two and to be fair, I think I might have shed a bit of tears imagining the song being sung by you.”
I let myself chuckle a bit from his response, “Only you can make yourself cry with your songs.” His face was showing shades of red from my teasing. I snickered a bit from seeing that. Looking into the song, I noticed that the song seemed to be in the perspective of the orange pegasus. I didn’t mind it per say as the lyrics did fit her and it did tug at my heartstrings, but if I recall from my friend, he said this song was inspired by the two pegasi, so… why is the focus on just Scootaloo? I couldn’t help but bring up this discovery to him, “Hey, why is the perspective in the song on Scootaloo and not the both of them?”
I covered my ears almost instantly as he was fiddling with the sounds. A screeching noise was erupting in my room. He was scrambling around with the booth and it took him awhile before managing to return it back to normal levels. He looked at me sheepishly as he pushed the big red button, “Ahaha, sorry about that friend-o…” I was scowling under my breath for that abrupt noise. He still held that expression as he was scratching his head. Before long, he returned back to his normal expression, “Again, sorry about that, now what was the question you asked?”
Well I can forgive him about that for now, but if he does that a second time, I’m going inside that room and possibly strangle him there. I cleared my throat trying to recall what the question was, “Repeating my question, why is the perspective on Scootaloo if the song was made for the both of them?”
His smile never faded from his face as he explained the whole thing in a speed that would have made either Rainbow Dash or the head of the M.O.M. proud. I was having trouble trying to absorb all of the knowledge about my question, “…and that’s why I wrote it in her perspective!” I saw one of his eyes lowered and looking at me in bewilderment, “Hey, are you alright there?”
I was clutching onto my head from trying to understand everything he just said. I had forgotten how much of a genius he can be and how long his speeches last. I was shaking my head wildly trying to get it all out of my head. After that little shudder, I looked at my friend’s eyes trying to hide my anger, “Friend, I wanted it simple! Not a complicated speech and all that!” He repeated the usual method when he was longwinded. By method I mean closing his eyes sheepishly and scratching his head in embarrassment.
I couldn’t help myself but let another sigh escape; I believe this to be my third sigh I had to elicit? In any case, I did not want to keep the both of us waiting for answers on questions; we can do all that later. I was ruffling the papers on a stall and poking the microphone checking again to see if any sound was emitting through. I waved back at my friend seeing if everything was in working order. He signaled me back bearing that smile of his. I returned the smile back. I cleared my throat once more before the song started.
As the song begun, a violin was playing through the speakers. The violin was one of two instruments I had loved to listen to constantly due to the nice and calming sounds it emits. As the string instrument continued to strum loudly, slowly a piano quietly emerges and takes over the next portion of the songs. The piano was the second instrument I also loved to hear and these two instruments complement each other in a harmonious symphony. There was a timer for me to begin singing luckily so I don’t lose track of when to sing. I had opened my mouth as the piano begun and the words carried off from me…
Through the lone and lonely nights
To the dark and stormy days
From the mountains to the prairie
For every word I say…
I had to admit, my friend was right about one thing. My voice did compliment this song perfectly like it was almost made for me. I couldn’t help but wonder if those two ever gotten together one last time before the war got to the point of no return. Knowing those tow however, it seemed likely they did celebrate with each other one last time before they met their fates.
No matter what the trouble
No matter what’s at stake
Even if the problem doubles
And I’m not so sure what to make
I’ll have you
As I sung this part, the violin kicked in and both played in different tones with one another. My friend sure knows which instrument to pick to compliment my singing voice and the song itself. During this, I opened my eyes to see him trying to hold back a bit of tears. Normally I’d say he’s being a crybaby, but that’d be rude of me because I’m trying to hold back some tears as well. I had to keep my respect to these otherwise I’d ruin such a good tribute to the two pegasi.
I see you flying over mountains
Leaving obstacles at bay
Living life without no worries
No matter what’s at stake
Your my all, my everything
Exactly what I want to be
One day I will fly up mountain
One day I’ll reach my peak
And I’ll have you
Here the song wanted silence from my voice but I was so absorbed into the song I couldn’t help but let a few long Hoo sounds to come forth. My friend was clearly not expecting that but he still wore his smile as I continued on. You know that certain music can make some people shed some tears yes? Well listening to it would be true as well, but singing with the song has a different motive in mind. Comparing to both actions, singing with the song would make you well up in tears more so instead of listening. Why? Because you are giving your emotions to the song you are singing. Of course not all songs make you cry, some make you want to party forever, others want to make you reconcile with people. Music can make anything almost seems like sunshines and rainbows any time of the day and night and you cannot deny that fact. After the piano and violin duet, the piano took over and I continued singing all the while some tears were escaping my eyes.
Soaring through the sky with the birds
In the soft embrace of clouds
With my wings stretched to the Sun
The silence roaring loud
In my mind, I’m clearly there
Reaching out to you
I open up my eyes
And I swear I flew
And I had you
At about the four minute mark, the violin returned back to play with the piano for a few seconds before going into silence. I had almost forgotten that Scootaloo was known for being the only pegasus to not able to fly despite having pegasi blood coursing in her. To hear this part of the lyrics sung by me, I think I had to wipe a few tears away from suddenly recalling that information. I didn’t even know those two personally, only known them by name. All this information, I had learned myself in my spare time when I was still a singer. The next set of words came and I think I might’ve broken down had I not kept my composure strong.
When night is almost over
To find reality
My wings cannot be yours
But in my dreams
I can fly besides you
Together we can soar
And just ‘til I wake
I’m alone no more
The song wished for silence from my voice again but I continued on letting a few long Hoo sounds come forth again. The piano was on solo for the most of my humming but after a few seconds, the violin slowly begun to resurface and harmonized with the piano. Both of us were beginning to feel our tears welling up and after some time, we let the waterworks go. None of us wanted this to be our last song but Celestia and Luna be damned, if Equestria is going to go down this path of no return, then let us do this so that the old roots can be remembered for the future. The piano slowly went down in volume. Left with the violin once again, I sung the last words before I incoherently broke down in tears.
For I have you…
The violin took over the last portion of the song for as long as the song played. As it did a crescendo, the violin ended on a very high note and did a decrescendo to a lower yet still high note before the violin stopped on that note and slowly lowered in volume signifying the end of the song. I said it before and I’ll say it again, I was down on the floor shedding some tears from this beautiful song. My ears perked as I heard the sounds of an opened door. I opened my tear-filled eyes to see my friend coming and assisting me up, “Come on and let me help you up.”
I did as he instructed as I grabbed his extended hoof. He pulled me up from my embarrassing position as I wiped the last of the tears that stayed in my eyes. I had to admit, I’m not one to cry so easily with any ordinary song but this makes it one of those exceptions. I looked into my friend’s eyes. I had never felt so much sadness and joy in a single song… I had to thank him for it but the words just wouldn’t go out of my mouth, “Um… you…I…uh…” Come on! How hard was it to say a simple thank you here!?
I raised my right hoof up to speak one more time but I was cut off by a hoof covering my mouth. I looked down at my friend’s hoof first before looking back into his eyes. A smile formed on his face as his eyes almost seemed to glimmer, “You don’t have to tell me, I can tell in your eyes, that you are thanking me.”
He removed his hoof from my mouth and stepped back a bit. I wiped my mouth clean and returned the smile back. Not what I was expecting but I wasn’t going to argue about it. Though I will bring it up to tease on my stallion friend here, “I honestly thought that you were going to kiss me there when I was about to open my mouth again.” I saw him stood still there and stuttered his words as rose his right hoof. Ha, oh now this was fun. I returned the gesture back as I stopped him with my right hoof. After a few seconds, I pulled back and he gave a smile while scratching his head again. Going back on topic, I hope he managed to record the whole thing so I don’t have to go through the feels trip again, “You did managed to get the whole song recorded right?”
He stopped scratching his head and nodded to my question. I let out a sigh of relief. Thank goodness, no more tears today please. He returned back to the sound booth and pulled out a CD with the song in it. I walked into the sound booth looking upon the CD. I saw my friend smiling as he put it in a plastic case, “Well, if this is to be our last song together, then I’d say it’s a great song for us to be remembered.”
I punched him on the gut trying to be positive about all of this. I truly can’t because of how this whole life might turn out for the both of us but we can try to have the best moments of my life when the end comes. I pulled him forward to the door with a smile on my face, “Sunshines and rainbows right friend?” He smiled back as he grabbed the CD and we trotted out of the studio for possibly our very last time. Before we officially left though, one question nagged at my head, “Say, what are you going to name the song we made?”
He looked at me at first for some time then to the CD that held the song. After a few minutes of silence, a small grin formed on his face as he put the CD case in his saddlebags, “Sisters at Heart.” I smiled. I liked that name; it was fitting for those two. He was the first to leave the studio as he went down the stairs; I turned around seeing the studio in all its working condition. I felt sad leaving this place for seemingly forever, but fate would not be kind to all of us now. I flicked the switch turning off everything in here. I did a small wave back to the studio before leaving it behind. I’m sure am going to miss this place…
Two hundred years later
Well, here I am alive and well. The same thing can be said for my stallion friend. I bet you’re wondering how we survived the upcoming balefire bombs right? Well, thanks to my stallion friend, we managed to find a working Stable that seemed to experiment on trying to extend one’s life or in better words, life support pods. That was just plain luck for us. Apparently they were testing those in the request of the head of the Ministry of Arcane Science, Twilight Sparkle. These pods were in Stable 150 if I recalled but some of them were moved to Stable 112, the Stable we were in.
We were inside the pods asleep for what seems like forever when a hissing sound of pods opening was met to the both of us. I opened my eyes to see the grey ceiling of the Stable. I was rubbing my eyes as I got up from alongside my stallion friend when we saw five ponies….er, take that back, three ponies, a changeling and a dracony? Whatever the case, they were attending to the other pods that opened. One of the ponies came to me, a pegasus to be precise as he helped me up. Seeing that this pony was a complete stranger to me I couldn’t help but ask, “Um, thank you sir but… who are you five?”
I saw his smile. It was almost as bright and luminescent as the crystals found in the Crystal Empire. Wow what an analogy I said there. He put one of his wings on my back as he responded, “Just a friend…” I saw his expression change a bit from jovial to a little bit of grief before returning back to jovial, “Welcome to Equestria two hundred years from the present.”
A warning message popped up on a terminal in the control centre of the Enclave cloud farm. The supervisor of the farm looked at his monitor in confusion.
"What?" he said. "That can't be right." He looked over to his colleague. "Uhh, Tinker? We're getting unusual activity in the Tower. Power fluctuations. Some sort of... energy buildup?"
The mare at the other desk raised an eyebrow and flew over to his terminal. "Lemme see, Burst," she said. Her colleague showed her the message he got, but she waved him away. "Oh, not that. The actual data, sheesh." She tapped the keyboard and brought up the Tower's logs.
Her eyes widened. "Th- that's impossible." She tapped a few more keys to confirm her fears. "Oh, starlight above, that's insane! Who would... wait, that's not our software..."
Suddenly she jumped back from the console as if it had burned her hooves. "The Hub? It's coming from the Hub?! Crap!"
She ran outside and towards the actual tower, with her confused colleague in tow.
"Tinker?!" Cloud Burst yelled behind her. "Can you please tell me what's going on? What's coming from the Hub?"
"I've only seen these readings once, when we were doing a full check of what we could do with the Tower. We never let it build up like this, though. This is actually going to strike!"
"Strike what, dammit?"
"Everything! It's a Sonic Rainboom!"
Cloud Burst stopped and landed where he was as Tinker flew on towards the white tower. The stallion hesitantly looked at the cloud cover below his hooves, and then at the farm around them. All those things they'd taken for granted. All those crops...
"That's insane," he whispered to himself.
Tinker slammed open the panel at the side of the tower and plugged a cable from her pipbuck into the slot inside. She quickly navigated through the menus. "Agh, this is impossible." She turned back to her colleague. "I've been locked out of ev—"
Cloud Burst wasn't there. He was still standing where he’d stopped, in the middle of the field, staring blankly at the leaves of a turnip sticking out of the clouds.
"We have to... harvest," he said numbly as he dug out the turnip and hugged it like a life preserver. "Harvest what we can, before..." He looked at the storehouse in the distance. It was made of clouds. Of course it was made of clouds. Everything was made of clouds. Even the harvesting carts, which were made of metal, were padded with clouds to keep them afloat; if the clouds were blown away, there was absolutely nothing that would stay in the air.
There was absolutely nothing they could do to save the crops. They would all...
"Forget about the crops!" Tinker shouted as she frantically tried to hack into the Tower's controls. "They're the least of our worries! This damn command was sent everywhere! There won't be anything left! The fields, the storehouses, the cities, everything!"
She looked at yet another error message on her pipbuck indicating the Tower's refusal to cooperate. "We... we've built our whole damn world on a megaspell ready to blow up in our face." She glanced at Cloud Burst and then back at the increasing energy levels mapped on her pipbuck. "Ah, dammit!"
She pulled the cables out of the tower and rushed over to her colleague, who was still desperately holding on to his turnip. "Up!" she yelled, pulling at his wing. "We gotta get higher or we'll be blown winds-know-where by this thing!"
Pulled out of his daze, Cloud Burst quickly nodded and flew up behind Tinker. Below them, the tower emitted a high-pitched whine, and promptly exploded into rainbows.
The two pegasi were swept away. They were no longer in the actual target area of the sonic rainboom when it went off, but they were still awfully close to the tower, and got hit fairly hard. By the time they managed to stabilize themselves in the air they had dropped quite a bit below the now-gone cloud level.
Cloud Burst looked at the wastelands below. Thousands of vegetables tumbled down, their leaves fluttering in the wind as they plummeted towards their doom, like damaged parachutes on a failed airdrop. A noticeably denser avalanche of produce was falling from the place where the storage warehouse had been. He watched in despair as the fruits—or well, vegetables—of all their hard work on the farm crashed down.
"My cabbages!" he yelled, still clutching the turnip in his forehooves.
Tinker patted her colleague on the back. "There, there," she said, tracking the organic projectiles to the ground. "At least we won't have to clean it all up." She frowned as she looked closer at the surface. "Burst... look at that," she said, pointing at something below.
"Ponies," Cloud Burst said, looking at the tiny colourful figures which had probably been gazing in awe at the rainbooms, but which were now quickly seeking cover from the incoming vegetable storm. He shook his head. "How in Tartarus do they survive down there?"
Tinker looked at the empty air around them. "I'm afraid we'll have to find out about that soon enough," she said soberly.
"What do you—" Cloud Burst tore his eyes away from the ground below and looked around and above them. "Oh." There wasn't a single cloud left in the sky. "Oh damn. You weren't kidding. Everything's just... gone."
"Let's hope it's not as bad as it looks down there, then," Tinker said.
* * *
Three ponies looked out of the open Stable door and watched as carrots, turnips, cabbages and other vegetables smashed into the ground outside.
"What the hell," the ghoul, Lemon Frisk, said. "As if the Celestia-damned attacks weren't enough. Now these featherbrains are pelting us with vegetables?"
"Maybe they ran out of bullets?" Misty Cloud, the mare standing next to him, offered. "Or, um, batteries or whatever?"
"Uh, dudes?" the younger stallion behind them asked hesitantly. "Is nopony gonna comment on the fact the skies opened?"
"It's gotta be a trick, Rambo," Lemon muttered back to him. "They're just doing all this to mess with us. Mark my words, they'll be covering it all up in no time."
Misty Cloud rolled her eyes. "Lemon, look. There's nothing left up there, at all. Not a cloud in the sky!"
"And yet, we can't take a step out there without getting our heads smashed in by rogue flying beets," Lemon threw back. "Leave it to those damn chicken wings to sour up even the clearing of the skies."
"Oh, chin up, old pone," the younger stallion, Rambo Apple, said. "Maybe some of it didn't smash too hard. We can always use new crops, especially after what happened to Hayden."
"Oh, sure, see the bright side," the ghoul muttered. "Want to know what I'm seeing?"
Misty Cloud rolled her eyes. "All right then, mister grumpy ghoul. What are you seeing?"
"An area covered with gravel, right outside our Stable, in which hundreds of vegetables are getting smashed to pulp." He turned to the other two. "Gravel, ponies. Not a nice flat hoseable concrete surface, but gravel. Tiny pebbles, on which ponies walk all the time as they go in and out of this place, stomping that mush into the ground. And then"—he pointed up—"there's the sunshine. You know what happens when you take mush like that, and the rain we've been having the past few weeks, and combine it with moderate amounts of warmth? It starts to rot. A ton of vegetable mush, on a surface that's impossible to clean off, rotting right outside our Stable door, with passing ponies smearing that crud all over the Stable, all the bloody time. That's what I'm seeing!"
Misty's face scrunched up as she imagined the full scope of that. "Oh. Ew."
"Indeed," Lemon growled. "This'll be a giant mess to clean up. And guess who will once again have to organize it all?"
* * *
Tinker looked at her pipbuck as she and Cloud Burst descended towards the wastelands below. Pipbucks weren't exactly common issue in the clouds, but she was a technician and needed it for her job. "Huh," she said. "No noticeable radiation around here. That's promising."
"All right," Cloud Burst said. "Can it detect any other kinds of poison, though?"
"Nope," Tinker said. "But those ponies below seem to have survived fine."
As they got closer to the ground, however, Tinker was forced to reassess that statement. "Okay. So that one doesn't look all that fine," she admitted, looking at the decayed-looking pony standing in front of the others in the cogwheel-shaped hole. "Still, he seems alive somehow."
"That's a Stable!" Cloud Burst said excitedly. "That's wartime construction! We'll be safe in there!"
"Um. If they let us in, that is," Tinker said. She didn't really like the looks the ponies were giving them.
As they got closer, more and more ponies started appearing in the open cogwheel door. They seemed torn between going into the sunlight and staying out of the vegetable mush, but seemed held back by the weirdly scarred one at the front, who was going for the latter choice.
Tinker recognized the pony's stance. She'd seen it plenty of times in the Enclave ranks, and this strangely-decrepit looking pony didn't need any markings, medals or uniforms to pull it off. He had Authority, capital 'A'. He simply radiated it.
As they got closer, the full feeling of wrongness about the pony sank in. He didn't really look old, but rather, weirdly decayed, his hide full of bald patches like a burn victim. Only, he didn't look burnt either. Just... decayed.
"What the heck happened to h—" Cloud Burst began, but he was quickly cut off by a gesture from Tinker. The mare threw him a quick glare and moved towards the Stable door, hovering in the air above the mess that was the remains of their warehouse full of produce. She glanced at Cloud Burst, who had just realized exactly what she was avoiding by not touching down, and who looked extra-glum about it.
"Are you the local leader?" Tinker asked the pony in front.
"Unfortunately, yes," Lemon replied, which earned him an eye roll from the mare standing next to him. "What's your business here?"
"Tinker Belle, cloud seeding division," Tinker replied. "Our cloud farm collapsed, and, uh, I'm assuming there isn't much left up there to go to in general. So I guess we, uh—" she looked at Cloud Burst, "—seek asylum?"
"Oh, that's grand," Lemon muttered. "First they steal the sun for two centuries, and then they think they can just knock on our door as if they're neighbours asking to borrow a cup of flour?" He glared at Tinker. "Piss off, sky rats."
Misty Cloud walked to the front and put a hoof on Lemon's chest. "Lemon Frisk, don't be rude," she said, giving him a somewhat exasperated look. "You heard them; they’re farmers, not soldiers!"
"Right," Lemon grumbled. "And I assume those are farmers' uniforms they're wearing?"
"Um, yes?" Tinker replied, somewhat confused.
"Wait, is she serious?" Lemon asked.
Misty peered at the uniformed mare and spotted the patch with a crossed rake and shovel superimposed over a turnip. "I actually think she is, Lemon. She did say 'cloud seeding division'."
Lemon gave Tinker a baffled look. "You're... military... farmers?"
"Well, of course. The Enclave controls all farms," Tinker said, unsure how else farming would work. She glanced up. "Well, 'controlled', I guess. The whole place has been blown to vapour. Do you ponies, uh, know anything more about that? We heard rumours about being at war with some ground faction, but we never expected they could take, well, the cloud control systems."
"Reports are still comin' in on the radio," Rambo Apple said, "but it seems the Wasteland Heroine took advantage of the war between the Enclave and Red Eye to launch a wack little black ops commando mission at that thing. Single Pony Project, they're calling it. Controls all the weather."
"Single Pegasus Project!" Cloud Burst threw back. "You can't put just any pony in there!"
Rambo Apple smirked. "Well, judging from the somewhat nonexistent state of your cloud farm, it doesn't look like LittlePip cared much about that particular prerequisite."
"Burst, shut up," Tinker hissed at her colleague.
"But—" Cloud Burst said to Tinker, somewhat baffled by her outburst, "I outrank you, you know!"
"Burst," Tinker replied, pointing a hoof at the cloudless sky, "I think we kind of moved past all that." She looked at the ponies in the Stable door. "Right now, we're nothing more than refugees seeking asylum." She glanced aside to Cloud Burst. "And I dunno about you, but given the fact we apparently just lost a war, I'm feeling pretty happy right now that our ranks are basically 'farming technician' and 'farming officer'."
Cloud Burst lowered his head and sighed. "Fair enough."
"Anyway," Misty said. "I am Misty Cloud, and this is my husband, Lemon Frisk, uh, manager, of Stable sixty-nine."
"Manager?" Lemon Frisk asked.
"Well, pick something else, then!" Misty threw back. "You're the leader! Why can't you just choose a title and stick with it?"
"Dun wanna," Lemon Frisk grumbled.
Misty smirked and turned back to the pegasi. "So, as I said, this is Supreme Lord Lemon Frisk the Undying of Canterlot, Eternal Ghoul-Emperor of Stable si—"
"Hey!" Lemon cut in. He sighed. "All right, I'll handle it. Just... stop doing that."
"Whatever you wish, my dear," Misty replied smoothly as she moved back to her place slightly behind him.
The ponies inside the Stable door weren't the only crowd that was gradually getting larger. Tinker noticed that the pegasi that had worked on the farm were hovering behind them at what they apparently perceived as a safe distance. They were unsure what to make of it all, and seemed content to let their superior officer handle it... even though said superior officer was currently hugging a lone turnip and looking quite distraught over the untimely demise of all those innocent vegetables, while the farm's technician was handling the actual diplomacy.
Still, Tinker knew the situation had to be resolved quickly, before any of the farm workers started freaking out. Heck, before she started freaking out.
"Right, um, so... I request asylum. We're non-combatants, so I don't think surrendering is really a thing, in our case. But, uh... please don't eat us or anything?"
"Are you making fun of me?" Lemon Frisk growled, glaring at Tinker.
Misty held him back. "Lemon, they probably know less about the wastes than I did when I met you," Misty said in a calming tone. "Look at her! She doesn't even have a clue what a ghoul is."
Lemon sighed. "Fair enough," he said. "Right. So." He glanced at the group of pegasi hovering a bit farther. "Pegasi." He spat out the word as if it left a bad taste in his mouth.
"Ponies, dear," Misty corrected. "Homeless refugees, in fact. Please leave your two hundred year old grudges out of this."
Lemon Frisk closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Right, right. Ponies, then." He looked at the hovering group in the distance. "That's about forty," he said. "We got space to harbour up to about a hundred in the Stable. Hayden's not gonna be happy about this, especially since their fields got destroyed in the Enclave attacks, but that also means we're controlling most of the food production, and they'll basically just have to deal with it."
"They're extra work force," Misty pointed out. "They can help rebuild it. That could placate Hayden a little."
"True," Lemon said. "I'm assuming a whole bunch more feathered folks are going to come down pretty soon, though. Meaning we'll need increased food production. So we rebuild the infrastructure at Hayden, and crank up the production of the Stable to the maximum we can manage. Which means, for both projects, we need more fertilizer."
Misty and Lemon shared a quick glance. They smiled in unison as their gaze went to the mess on the ground and then up to the two pegasi in front of them.
Cloud Burst shot Tinker Belle a dry look. "At least we won't have to clean it all up, huh?" he said sardonically. He narrowed his eyes and threw his turnip at her head.
Tinker caught the vegetable and snickered. She realized all too well that that could’ve gone a lot worse.
It's Always Sunny In Fillydelphia, by weaponsprime
The beige stallion lay slumped against the myriad rubble that comprised most of the city. His eyes shot open and he sucked in air as though he’d been drowning only moments before. The sudden movement sent agony coursing through his body. He screamed and clutched at his side.
“W-what?” he gasped. He raised a hoof and stared in terror at the blood coating it. He risked a glance down. A jagged hole was punched in his side, liberally dribbling that oh-so-important red fluid.
“NO… No… Oh Goddesses... ” He whimpered as he clamped his hooves tightly over the wound torn in his belly and looked around in a panic for… someone. Anyone who could save him. His rust coated steel armor lay discarded next to him, a rough hole punched clean through it.
All around him was chaos shrouded in smoke and ash. Red Eye’s army of slaves and mercenaries fought hoof and claw against the Enclave and their war machines. The whine of bullets, the whip-crack of magical energy weapons and the screams of the wounded and dying.
Fillydelphia was once more a warzone.
The city reeked of death. The sickly smell of burning flesh intermixed with the tang of ozone. Thick black smoke billowed from the battlefield and added to the cloud cover overhead. His breathing came in ragged gasps. He looked around, hoping, praying for someone to help him but dared not move less more than blood spill out of him.
Through the pall of smoke and ash scrambled three ponies clad in Red Eye’s regalia. They looked around at the fallen like a pack of hungry dogs. One quickly snatched up a fallen pistol and charged off back into the smoke bellowing a warcry around the mouth grip.
“H-hey! Hellp me! Please!” Pliers called out. He reached out with a hoof at the remaining two, his blood dripping off it. The lead stallion stopped short and eyed him up and down.
“Where’s your gun?” he asked. Pliers gave him a strange look and then weakly gestured towards his armor.
“O-over there. Please. I n-need a potion. Help me…” he breathed. The stallion trotted over to the armor. He brushed it aside with casual disregard and smiled as he uncovered a rifle. He bent down and bit down on the grip and turned to walk away. Pliers’ eyes widened. “W-wait! I need help!” he cried. The two ponies looked at him as if he were worth less than the radioactive sludge that made up the moat around the compound.
“Help yourself,” the stallion called as he turned and galloped off into the smoke. The last pony, a thin purple mare looked at him, a frown on her face.
“I’m sorry.” she said and turned and galloped away as well. Pliers stared after them and slowly lowered his hoof back over his wound.
“I… I just…” he muttered, tears welling up in eyes as he stared at the cracked pavement.
“Don’t move!”
Pliers lifted his head and stared at the figure before him. The shiny black carapace and tail reminded him of a radscorpion, but the soft feathered wings and the eyes half hidden behind goggles were definitely pony in origin. Well, wing. The other was reduced to little more than a stump.
“C-can’t move,” he muttered. As if to lend credence to his statement, pain lanced through his side causing him to cry out. He swore the blood flowing from him quickened his pace and he pressed his hooves over the wound a little tighter.
The pegasus mare relaxed and limped closer to inspect him, scanning her eyes over him.
“Are you armed?” she asked. Pliers wanted to laugh, but couldn’t find the strength. He settled for a nod to the side.
“They… they took it… left me to die…” he said, tears cutting through the grime on his face.
The pegasus relaxed further and moved closer still. As she did Pliers could make out small holes in the softer portions of her armor. She turned, settled herself to the ground next to him with a pained grunt and looked at the stump where her wing had been.
“I’m not much better off…” she mumbled. Pliers looked at her weakly and then looked forward.
“Name’s… Pliers…” he wheezed. Each breath he took required a concerted effort. The pegasus looked at him and then glanced off at nothing in particular.
“Solar Wind…” she replied.
“Solar? Like the sun?” he asked, looking sidelong at her. She nodded quietly, warnings flashing on her HUD about her blood pressure and limb status.
“Huh… never seen… the sun. Bet… it’s nice…” he muttered.
There was a bright flash overhead and the both of them turned their heads skyward. The clouds parted in a radiating yellow and green glow that stretched further and further across the sky. Beyond the clouds was a beautiful blue sky and even as the life flowed slowly from his body, Pliers smiled.
“Its… its so pretty…” he muttered, the tears flowing freely from his eyes. He closed his eyes, feeling the sun’s warmth for the first time in his life. Solar Wind raised her remaining wing and shielded her eyes. The light grew brighter and brighter, and then Celestia One fired.
The sun was slipping under the horizon as two ponies, an earth pony mare and a unicorn stallion, slipped into Dusty’s Hotel and Bar, their clothing dirty from many days of travel. The ground floor was fairly sparse; with several tables, a dart board, and an old jukebox that was playing a soft melody. The few ponies in the room were gathered by the bar at the back wall, relaxing after the day's work. The pair made their way to the bar through the small crowd that had gathered. “You the owner?” the purple mare asked the Mr. Handy unit behind the counter.
“Yep, I am. Name's Dusty. First thing I heard after booting up was a pony saying, ‘you’re dusty,’ so I took it on as my name. Now, are you looking for a room or some drinks?” the robot responded, two eyes on the mare and the other on the glass it was cleaning.
“A room, although some wine sounds good right about now.” The mare took a seat on one of the bar stools.
“Rough day travelling, eh?”
“You have no idea.”
“Probably not,” Dusty responded, then swiveled one of its eyes to the orange stallion, “You?”
“I'm rooming with her.”
“Can I get you anything to drink?”
"A water, please."
"You don't want something alcoholic?"
“No, I don't drink.”
“If that’s what you want. Weapons stay holstered while at the bar and while drinking, please. I will charge you for any damage you do to the place. Celestia knows that brawls happen too often as it is.” Dusty pulled a bottle of wine from under the counter and poured it into the glass. "Five caps a glass or twenty for the bottle. Cheaper to buy the bottle in the long run."
"I'll take the bottle."
"Ok, the room will be thirty caps for the two of you."
"Barkeeper!" came a slurred call from a green pegasus sitting a two or three stools down, "I want some more." The pony was slumped over the bar, his wings hanging limp by his side, and was dressed in an Enclave officers coat. The mare stiffened slightly when she noticed him, her companion simply cocked an eyebrow.
"Oh, stow it, Hopper. You've had enough." Dusty said.
"I've got the caps."
"Fine." Dusty grumbled, then took the mug and filled it, "You keep drinking like this and you'll die of liver failure before long."
"Don't care, my life is shot to Tartarus as it is."
The unicorn floated a holotape recorder and an old notebook out of his saddlebag and took a seat next to Hopper, "Excuse me, Hopper, was it?" The pegasus nodded, "Good. I don't mean to bother you, but you look like you can help me."
"How's that?" Hopper slurred, looking at the stallion over the rim of his mug with bloodshot eyes.
"You see, I collect stories, doesn't matter who tells them, I'll listen. I have collected quite a few truly strange ones in the ten years I've been doing it. And, well, I was wondering if you would tell me yours."
Hopper thought for a moment, then asked, "Who're you, again?"
"I'm Ancient Chronicles and this-" he motioned to the mare, who snorted and rolled her eyes. "-is Tourniquet, my current traveling companion."
"Lieutenant Commander Cloud Hopper, serial number eight-oh-six, six-eighty-four, five-seventy-five. Former executive officer of the Cirrus."
"The Cirrus?"
"A Raptor." Hopper took a draft of bear, laid his head on his arm, and looked at his cap. "Best fucking job I ever had, then that damnable horn-head had to clear the skies and start a civil war. You don't know how hard it is to fire on civilians."
"Didn't seem to stop you at Friendship City." Tourniquet muttered.
Hopper pushed himself up slightly, almost falling off the stool, and pointed a hoof at her, "Hey, I wasn't there. The Cirrus wasn't stationed there."
"Where was it? If you don't mind me asking." Chronicles asked.
"Neighvaro," Hopper settled back into a comfortable position, "Command is going to have my ass for telling ground-pounders that," he took a drink, "Oh, wait, command doesn't exist anymore. Fucking brilliant."
"So you were there when Littlepip attacked?"
"Yeah, great fucking mess that was. You know, Raptors were supposed to be designed to take out dragons, so of course it's a dragon that kicks our collective asses to hell and back."
Chronicles rubbed the back of his neck, "Yeah, I imagine that the irony is fairly painful."
"You have no fucking idea."
"What were you doing when the attack started?"
"Why do we care, Chron?" Tourniquet asked, "He's a fucking Enclave. Nopony cares."
"I do. I've interviewed gryphons, zebras, ponies, heck, even a dragon, but not one of them before. History is usually written by the victors, but I need to have an accurate view, and that means I need to know all sides. We haven't heard their side of the story yet, and if there's one thing you learned that every story has multiple sides."
"Like a bit." Hopper muttered.
"More like dice, but that works as a simple explanation, yes."
"They're still fucking monsters," Tourniquet muttered.
"Maybe so, maybe not, but impartiality is important for historians."
"Well excuse me for not giving a fuck." Tourniquet turned back to her wine.
"Perhaps we should start at the beginning, What was life like above the clouds?"
"Nice, real nice. Especially compared to down here. Didn't have to kill anypony to live, didn't have to worry about where your next meal was coming from. Peaceful, orderly, none of the vigilantism that's so common down here. Crime was practically nonexistent. Didn't have to worry about getting some sort of deadly disease from every scratch."
"Bull," Tourniquet said.
Hopper looked thoughtful, "STDs were really common though. But we were able to control the symptoms of most of them."
"You said that food was plentiful, what was it like?" Chronicles asked.
"Bit bland, but it was alright. Better than any of the two-hundred year old crap down here. The bean-counters were always worrying that the crops wouldn't support many more, so the numbers of foals a family could have was limited."
"Really?" Chronicles asked, shock and confusion evident in his voice.
"Yep, I think it was two to a family unless they had permission for more. Never really cared much for kids, get in the way of my career. Why?"
Chronicles shook his head, still slightly confused, "I'm the youngest of twelve, three brothers and eight sisters."
Hopper stared wide eyed at Chronicles, "Holy mother of Luna, how did your parents get permission for that?'
"They didn't need to."
"They don't limit kids down here?"
"No, and even if they did, it would have been hard to enforce for the most part."
"Twelve kids, no wonder the surface had gone to hell. Impossible to feed everypony," Hopper muttered to himself.
"Hey, Chron, I'm headed to our room. Can't stand to be near that basterd any longer," Tourniquet said, depositing the caps for the wine and room on the bar, "I'll probably be sleeping by the time you're finished with your interview." With that, she got down and trotted off to the room, muttering under her breath, "Fucking Enclave bastard."
Hopper watched her go, then asked, "What's her problem?"
"She lost several friends in the Enclave attacks on Friendship City. Some of them she had known since she was a foal."
"Damn."
"Yeah, she's not a big fan of the Enclave, or pegasi in general."
"I can see why," Hopper said, then looked at Chronicles, "You're real pretty, want to get a room later?"
"I'm sorry, what?"
"You know, get to know each other better? Spend some time spanking flanks?" Hopper made an obscene gesture with his hooves as he gazed expectantly at Chronicles.
A strangling sound came from Chronicles as he choked on some water and struggled to find his tongue for a while, "Um, m-my barn door doesn't swing that way," he finally managed to stammer, cheeks blazing.
"Aw."
"Ahem, anyway. Why don't you describe your life above the clouds."
Hopper smiled slightly as he remembered the past, "I was born in New Cloudsdale, and spent my first sixteen years of my life there. Started school at four, and did well enough to get accepted to officers school when I enlisted." Hopper chuckled, "I was an absolute terror, I know that I'm the reason at least one of my teachers quit."
"Really" Chronicles asked.
"Yep, got called into the principal's office and congratulated the day after she left, seems he didn't like the old hag either." Hopper took a drink, then continued, "First shot of whisky I'd ever had, it was awesome. Kept up my grades, though, something my family was proud of."
"You said that you started school at four, what did you learn about?"
"History, science, magic, art, math. Had an absolutely dull play that my class did once about the history of the Grand Pegasus Enclave, I got stuck as the Caesar."
"Did everypony attend school?"
"Yep, it was mandatory. Had to go, get your basic knowledge. Then you decided what your career would be, there was lots of pressure to continue on in your families hoofsteps, of course. Not like down here, where three quarters of the ponies can't even spell their own fucking names." An exaggeration, thought Chronicles, although he had met plenty of ponies who were illiterate. "My family were farmers, I chose to enlist. Proudest day in my father's life, even think I saw a tear."
"What was daily life like then?"
"Eh, wake up, go to school, goof off afterwards, do as little homework as possible. Occasionally got in trouble for things I did, sometimes for things that I didn't."
"That hardly sounds fair."
"I had a reputation. Kept the bullies off my back, and impressed my commanding officers."
"What sort of things did you do?"
"Eh, mostly stuff with wonderglue, sticking pony's butts to their seats, glueing their saddlebags shut. That sort of stuff."
Chronicles chuckled, "Sounds like fun."
"Oh, yeah. The best part was when they chased me."
"Heh, well, down here that stuff would probably get you shot."
"Yeah, one of the reasons that we were better," Hopper looked smug.
Chronicles gave a short cough, "Anyway, continue?"
"After I enlisted, I had to go through basic, just like anypony else. I took some flak for being from a farming community, but I earned their respect eventually."
"What was basic?"
"Basic training, learning how to shoot, simple tactics, how to use the power armor, that sort of stuff."
"You didn't know how to use a gun?"
"Nope, neither did most of the class."
"Why not?"
"Never had handled one before. My family wasn't military or police, so we didn't have easy access to them. Unlike this hell-hole, everypony and their dog are armed down here."
"Why weren't you armed?"
"Well, for one, we didn't have any wandering bands of psychos going around trying to kill everything they found."
"You have a point. What was life like on a Raptor?"
"It was slightly boring, actually. Same routine day in and out, Every so often there would be a drill or war game that livened things up."
"War game?"
"Practice battles, done to keep our fighting skills sharp. Not that it helped any."
"I see, what else did you do to pass the time?"
"A couple of the Raptors at Neighvarro started a cloud-ball league."
"Cloud-ball?"
"Hoofball with a ball made out of cloud, basically."
"Sounds interesting. What were you doing when Littlepip attacked Neighvaro?"
"Getting my wing checked in the sick bay, had sprained it the day before in a cloud-ball game." Hopper sipped his drink, "I'm leaving medical when all of a sudden alarms are going off and everything was slipping into chaos. I rush to my post and what do I see but a fucking dragon and a bunch of gryphons attacking the most heavily fortified Enclave base. We do our best to defend the S.P.P. installation but they manage to get that fucking horn-head through the shield that had stopped us for two hundred years. That thing even withstood a barrage from one of our Thunderheads." Hopper chuckled, "We took one of the dragon's eyes though, payback for the damage and casualties."
"What were you thinking as the attack unfolded?"
"First off, I was cursing that fucking Stable mare, if it hadn't been for her, I would have been promoted and given my own Raptor. But no, she had to stir up trouble, between that and her pet dashite, command was going crazy, shuffling around assignments for cloud-ships and their crew." Hopper took a swig of his drink. "At the same time, I was slightly glad for the opportunity to strut my stuff. If I did all the right stuff during the attack, my promotion application would look better to command."
"And how did you do?"
"After the battle I reserved a commendation for valiant action, not quite what I wanted, but it was still something. Would have got me promoted if it hadn't been for the civil war that kicked off after that horn-headed ground-pounder took our clouds."
"Why was there a civil war?"
"Because the fucker took our clouds away and the civilians saw the ponies below and got a sudden boost of sympathy. Even though half the ponies down here would rather kill you than look at you."
"There are many who would say that it was wrong for the Enclave to keep the clouds shut for so long."
Hopper glared at Chronicles, "It was a matter of national security, if you knew an area had all sorts of dangers that would put your ponies at risk, radiation, monsters, sicknesses; would you have done anything different?"
Chronicles scratched his chin, "I suppose not, although I would have tried to help those in that area. At the very least I would have created some sort of volunteer program."
"Yeah, well you would have been stupid. The civvies took one look at the ground and had a rush of shit-for-brains and revolted."
"What did the Enclave do?"
"Tried to stop the uprising, we were moved to New Cloudsdale to pacify the civvies, but the Cirrus was taken after a few weeks. I was a prisoner for the rest of the fucking war."
"Which side won?" Chronicles asked, and earned a sour look from Hopper.
"The rebels fucking won, spent two years in a makeshift prison camp while the fuckers used our Raptor and the power armor they stole to fight the government. One morning I was told that the New Pegasus Coalition, that's what they called themselves, had finished off the Enclave and that they had reached an agreement with the NCR. Said they were merging and that 'high value prisoners of war' were being trained for food. Apparently I wasn't high value enough, so they just dropped me off on the ground after magically clipping my wings, still haven't grown back." Hopper held up a wing, the primaries all ended at half the length they were supposed to be, Chronicles cringed. It was hard to imagine a worse punishment for a pegasus.
Dusty floated over, "Bar's closing in five minutes, as much as I like paying customers, I still need to clean."
"Alright, I'll finish up," Chronicles said, then turned back to Hopper, "To condense the rest of the interview, what is your view of Littlepip?"
"Fuck her with the largest cannon you can find and fire it."
"What is your view of the Day of Rainbows and Sunshine?"
"The death of my nation and way of life."
Chronicles turned off the recorder and slipped both it and the notebook into his saddle bag, "Thank you, Hopper. I'm glad you were willing to take the time to talk with me."
"Glad to have somepony listen for once."
"Yes, well, good night." Chronicles got down from the stool and was starting to his room when he felt Hopper's hoof on his shoulder.
"There's something that I've been meaning to do since they crippled me, but never could manage," Hopper said, not making eye contact, "I think I can now, thanks."
"Your welcome, I think." Chronicles slowly made his way to the room, pausing at the door to the hall to take one last glance at Hopper. The Pegasus was straightening his coat and snugging his cap on his head like he was headed back to duty. Chronicles shook his head and continued on, there were still so many unanswered questions, he would have to see about finding other former members of the Enclave. The interview needed to be transcribed, and the notes needed organization. But that was later, it was late and sleep would have to do. He reached the room to find the Tourniquet fast asleep on one of the beds, her gear haphazardly strewn about and the lantern still light. Chronicles quietly removed his saddlebags and barding and arranged them neatly at the foot of the empty bed, then climbed into it. He half registered the sound of hooves passing the door as he recited his nightly plea for Luna's protection and guidance. When he was finished, he reached over to extinguish the lamp, and as he did, the sound of a magic weapon blast came from a few rooms down. Chronicles lay awake the rest of the night, unable to sleep in the silence.
Rain washes away everything. Give it time, it could wash away the radioactive waste of this land that we once called “Equestria.” And some day, it will wash away the land with it. Just needs time.
I, for one, hate the rain. Not that I can help it, since every day it rains here. Drip, drip, drip, an endless mantra that drowns out any other sound. The streets are flooded, the ground mush, the rain envelops everything here. Always just cold enough to make you feel like you’re freezing your tail off, but never cold enough to be in any danger of it actually happening. No, the bigger danger is slipping and falling in a puddle and drowning. Since a puddle here is big enough to fit one of those old sky wagons in.
Shivering, I look out at the flooded streets of concrete ruins that was once a proud city of Equestria, now just another ruin that’s a blip on a map. Grey slabs everywhere, grey-colored water, grey everything. I thought Equestria was supposed to be colorful? Even the light of my auburn pipbuck seems to have had it’s life sucked out by this dreadful place.
Pulling my dripping hat down, I stand up on all fours, shake myself off like a dog, and start heading for the abandoned elevator shaft. Each hooffall causing a pish-ing sound as I make my way to the door. One would think the second floor would have been enough to keep me out of the flooding streets, but nope. With a little force, the ancient doors are pulled open, water-logged by the flooding.
Slowly, I ascend the wall; constantly assaulted by drips and drops of water leaking through the cracked “ceiling”, the slanted “hallway” leading me closer to my destination. Every step takes an agonizingly long time, as trudging through slippery ground in a building that’s slanted far beyond anything that would be deemed “safe” is apparently a tough ordeal, who knew? Still, I trudge on, endlessly marching toward the top.
A sudden SLICKing sound and before I know it I’m flat on my face, holding on for dear life to the emergency ladder, partially due to my pipbuck getting stuck on a rung. I pull myself up, shake my head off, and trudge on once more. I groan as the wet feeling of this aquatic tartarus seeps into my murky-brown coat, and so close to finding the one place that might be dry, too!
Well, there’s nothing for it, just gotta keep trudging on...
BAM! A shotgun shell wasted, but that’s not important right now. What’s important is… A DRY ROOM! Genuine, dry, lit and tiled room! After climbing through my shotgun-blown hole in the window, and carefully making it past the broken glass, I throw off my soaked duster, hat, and shotgun and jump for pure joy.
“Dry! Dry land at last! Thank Celestia for dry land!” I shout, not caring who or what hears me.
Of course, I’m not actually dry yet, nor is anything I own, but hopefully after I get whatever that griffon wanted I’ll be dryer than Appaloosa, new or old! Well, nothing else to do. I slowly take in the room of what once was the Ministry of Morale hub for… whatever town this was. It’s name was long ago washed away by the endless rain, and my pipbuck offers nothing to help with that. She just calls it what that griffon, Starker, called it: “Stadt an der Grenze der Hölle,” whatever that means.
Something does seem off about this room…but what could…?
The light. The lights are working? There shouldn’t be power to this building, not with all the damage that’s been done to this place.
…
Oh sure. Soon as I notice them, they start flickering. Typical.
Sighing, I continue to search the room, checking all the desks for anything of use. Nothing but a couple of paperweights and a few bottle caps. Pulling my damp duster back on and looking out the window, something catches my eye Down below.
Is that… A whirlpool? What in the...?
Well, only one way to go now…
There is something seriously wrong with this building, much less this whole town.
I think whilst walking down the stairs, keeping an eye out for enemies, and drinking Rad-away. The top level where I entered was the only level that wasn’t irradiated, which is believable, but at this point the radiation’s getting unsettlingly strong.
What’s worse is the loud silence. The endless rain continues to pour down outside, and although muffled by the walls, the constant drip-dropping is still an annoyance. But other than that… nothing. Not a single monster, barely any corpses or remains. It’s.. unsettling, to put it lightly.
Okay… Let’s go over the facts here.
First, there’s this rain. With the sky closed and no pegasi, the weather is erratic. But NOWHERE is there this much rain in all the wasteland! Nowhere is there enough to flood the remains of an entire city, even if it is in a bowl.
Two, the strength of this radiation is consistent with that of a Balefire Megaspell, but all the cities that were hit are accounted for… at least the ruins are, anyway.
Third, there’s the fact that this building still has power. Any generator would have been destroyed were there a Megaspell, or at least overloaded. Not to mention the flood would utterly RUIN anything electronic, Pipbucks aside. Even the semi-erratic flickering shouldn't be happening, so what’s going o-
Rustle-tap.
Dead in my tracks I stop.
Was that a sound I heard just now?
Slowly and carefully, I draw my shotgun and continue my advance down the stairs.
Click-click-click...
The radiation is getting stronger… I need to be quick.
Slowly, carefully, I open the door at the end of the stairwell…
…
Sweet Celestia…
My eyes beheld a sight that was far too surreal to be true. A sea of clouds was before the broken remains of the bottom of the tower, rainbow-like water creating a pool in the middle of the “room.” And with the walls made up by the whirlpool I saw above, it indeed was like a room. Every now and again a strike of lightning would shoot out from the middle of the ruined cloud-mass, starting to go upwards but arcing down and into a long metal rod, leading directly into the generator for the building. There was leaking rainbow-colored liquid everywhere, far more viscous than the pool in the middle of the room. My Pipbuck was clicking faster than before, radiation levels skyrocketing.
The only explanation for everything that’s here, everything that went wrong with this city.
The Cloudsdale Weather Factory.
But how? And why here…?
Questions for another time. The swirling mass of water that was the whirlpool gave off the loud whooshing sound of water, drowning out a lot of the sound. But not the sound of a mare giving orders.
“Spread out, keep searching! Command wants a report in 20 minutes!”
Crouching behind an overturned desk, I survey the room. My Pipbuck picks up 7 red dots spread across the room. These are ponies, but they sound far too intelligent to be raiders. From what little I can see from my cover, each has some kind of black carapace armor, with wings and strange scorpion tails.
Pegasi? They were talked about back in the vault, years ago, but there’s only rumors of them being out in the wasteland that I thought they were wiped out in the war...
One stood nearby, a few meters ahead, surveying the others as they worked through the remains of the factory, and appeared to be the one giving orders. Another strode up to her.
“Ma’am, we’ve searched all over, but there’s not much here that’s useful to us. Certainly nothing to help open the S.P.P.” the officer, a young stallion by the sound of him, reported; he then continued “We can try moving up about a click or three north. Reports say that’s where Rainbow Dash’s house crashed when Cloudsdale was going down.”
“That’s going back on the trail.” she replied, and even behind the helmet I could hear her gritting her teeth. “This was the closest we can get to Cloudsdale without entering the city itself. Guess there’s not much else we can do here” Sighing, she then turned to address the rest of their group. “Alright, pack it up! Set charges in the old Rainbow Factory and let’s move out!”
The officer turned with her… then stopped, looking straight at my hiding spot. Too slow, I ducked down behind the desk, pulling out my shotgun.
“Intruder!” He shouted, some kind of gems on the suit starting to glow… and then they fired energy beams at me!
I fire a glancing shot, running to another overturned table as the previous one practically exploded from the beams of energy. The commander readied her own weapons as a few behind her fly up to assist in the fight.
I hate to admit it… but I think I’m outnumbered here. And not enough cover to make it to the door either…
Well, if all else fails…
“I don’t want to fight you!” I yell, cowering behind the desk.
“Then you shouldn’t have fired at us!” The commander yelled back.
Oh. Right. Well, shit.
“Sorry?”
The Energy beams blowing holes in the wall are the only apology I receive as I dodge as many shots as I can, returning fire with a few glancing shotgun blasts that do little to pierce their armor. Running is the best option I have, dodging the maelstrom of green-and-red Energy Shots.
Still, it’s not nearly enough; I let out a yelp of pain as one of the green beams burns a hole in my leg, my pipbuck yelling at me that it’s crippled. Limping along, a few more glancing shots manage to hit my arms, causing searing pain as my beloved duster gets scorched.
Making it to cover behind one of the tanks, I pant and reload my shotgun. However, the sudden realization of having only 2 armor-piercing rounds left brings a frown to my face. It’s nowhere near enough to take out them al-
I look up in time to see another pegasus in armor run out from behind another sideways tank, readying his/her weapons.
Wasting no time, I lunge toward them, slipping into the blissful slowdown of S.A.T.S. and firing both AP rounds straight into their head. The slowed time shows the first round fly straight and true into the visor on their helmet, which badly cracks from the blast. The slowdown then shows in gritty detail the second blast once again hitting their visor, shattering it and having the remains of the shotgun shell and the glass shrapnel from their visor burst into their head. They’re given to time to even breath a word of pain before they’re pushed onto their back from the force of the blast, dead.
I limp past them, trying my best not to think about it as I head away from the rest of my attackers… straight into a strange device with a digital timer, counting down.
“The Charge is set! Everyone out, now!” I can barely hear their commander as I try limping back the way I came...
00:02:30
Need to keep moving. Step, step, st-ow, step, step, ste-ow…
00:01:45
I’ve made it to the door, quickly starting the climb back up. The water “walls” make it impossible to go anywhere else, though drowning might be a better option than being blown up. My assailants must have already gone up and out. Stupid wings… wish I had some right about now…
00:00:15
The drip-dropping has returned, I must be about level with the lake outside. The weather factory gone haywire would cause a storm like this… It makes sense. Not now, need to keep moving, need to hurry u-
00:00:00
I can barely make out the sound of a far-explosion.. Followed by another, and another, and then a much bigger, and louder one!
The ground shakes with each blast, old dust and rubble vibrating all about, until the building around me is blown away in a flash of light!
A bright light engulfs my very soul, and the sounds of the end of days are everywhere. Too bright to see anything… I feel weightless, floating away from this world at last…
Slowly my vision returns…colors fading in one at a time. First black, the shadows that remain of a long-dead city sketched with care. Then the dark hues of orange and yellow, the palette of choice for a ruined world with no life left. Blues, the dreary colors that paint the feelings of those who live here.
But then… All at once, vibrant colors of all kinds rush to my eyes. A pillar of light stretches high into the heavens, filled with all shades of every color imagined. Green, Red, Violet, Pink, all colors reaching out into a bright void high in the sky.
As I float on the water, the ruins of the city crumbling around me, I can’t help but stare into the sky, since for once there is sky to stare at. The endless drip-dropping has finally ceased, and an unsettling silence has settled on the land. A fulfilling warmth is brought with the new hole in the sky. The only sound to reach my ears is the far-away sound of running water, drowned out by the brilliant hole in the cloud-roof of Equestria.
“Sunshine and rainbows…” I croak, barely having the strength to move as the water carries my body away from the city.
Far too soon, however, streaks can be seen in the sky, slowly pulling the cloud curtain together again. Little by little, the beauty of Celestia’s Sun disappears behind the dreary grey curtain that has been there for 200 years, the silence finally broken with the unwelcome drip-drops that have plagued these ruins.
With no strength left to move, (no real point to do so anyway), I finally close my eyes and let the water take me wherever it wishes. My only companion my pipbuck and the start of another endless rainstorm.
Maybe this time the rain will wash me away...
The Sunshine and Rainbows Case, by Zoltanthemagnificent
My name is Heart, and I am a private eye. One of the best, in fact, mainly due to there not being much room in the wasteland for investigators, so there’s not many who can take my crown.. You may think that just because of a lack of a justice system means that there’s no job for me, but you’d be wrong. In the larger settlements, there was definitely room for a crusty old unicorn stallion like me. I was able to find work in San Franciscolt, a place that was only hit by one bomb during the war, allowing it to be a more civilized place than most. Granted, there are still nasty radiation spikes, and most of the city is filled with horrid monsters, mutants, and the occasional rad-wooly. I lived here for so long, just for the sake of helping others, but not without a small fee.
This was a settlement that held some of my more interesting cases, one of which comes to my mind as I write this memoir: The Sunshine and Rainbows Case.
It was twenty years ago, a few days before the Lightbringer decided to open up the skies for us, and it happened shortly after I decided to have a drink at my favorite bar. I remember looking at my soft brown hoof under my long coat as I took a swig of the bottle of bourbon. With a spit, I looked up at Raggedy Cloth, the bartender, and growled,”Your stuff is still horrible.” I said, a small smile came to my lips.
Mr. Cloth laughed as he used his blue hoof to clean the mug,”Yeah, whatever, you’re still gonna buy this shit.”
I sigh in response as I rubbed my blond mane of hair. Mr. Cloth and I have been friends ever since I was able to find and save his daughter from a bunch of slavers. To this day, he’s always given me a discount on drinks. I twitched my ears a bit, trying to get to hear some of the people around me. The door behind me was open, letting in the cool air and the noises of the populace. I frequent this bar for another reason besides friendship: Cases. Sometimes my secretary Clipboard takes my cases down, but most of the time these cases pop up spontaneously right at this bar. It kind of happens when your place of business is near the center of town.
I take another swig of my drink, only to hear a stallion scream in pain,’Here we go!’ I thought as I slammed my mug down at the counter and jumped from the stool to run outside. I turn my eyes to see a ghoul pony on the ground, bleeding from the heart as several ponies circled him. I ran towards him and knelt down, when I felt his hoof grab mine.
“Sunshine and Rainbows.” He coughed, before his eyelids fell.
I frowned as I tipped my hat down,”Mr. Globe, poor guy.”
“He...” A mare behind me shuddered,”Why, he was like a grandfather to the foals, he taught so many of us...”
I got up and turned to her,”Did you see who did this?”
“Sorry, I just came here after hearing my husband scream at the sight of Globe’s blood,” The mare shook her head,”Why would anyone kill him?”
I laid a hoof on her shoulder,”I’ll get to the bottom of this. I always do.” I saw her tear up a little.
“I remember when he read me bedtime stories. Please, catch the asshole who did this!” She said, before going to her sobbing husband. I turned back to the body, and knelt down to examine it further. The wound in his chest appeared to be from a knife, obviously Globe had to have limped here or somepony would’ve saw the killer. But for what reason? Could he have wanted to tell me that phrase? What does Sunshine and Rainbows mean? I must investigate further.
A levitating robot greeted me as I opened the door to my office,”Clipboard,” I said to the robot,”We have a case.”
“Great, sir, what is it this time?” Clipboard spoke in a trottingham accent as he used one of his limbs to write down on a piece of paper,”Robbery? Raider attack? Alicorn Kidnapping?”
“Murder.” I had said, walking to my desk and pulling out one of the drawers and taking out a folder.
“Of course, sir, how original.” Clipboard said,”Perhaps you’ll put that in your tens of hundreds of murder files?”
“It’s the wasteland, Clip, murder’s the most popular and efficient crime.” I said, grabbing a piece of paper and writing down my notes,”Clip, name the ponies in San Fransicolt who’ve had a connection with the victim, Globe Trotter.”
“What if it’s just a random attack, sir? Those happen a lot.”
I shook my head,”This was different. The way his eyes looked at me with sadness and regret, and the words he spoke showed me that this murder was personal.”
The beeping noise that came from one of Clip’s eyes told me that his brain was scanning his databanks,”What did he say, sir?”
“Sunshine and rainbows.” I said, putting down my notebook and getting up to my pistol holster on the coat rack in the corner of my office,”I’m not sure what it means, or why he said it.”
“There are three ponies you could ask, sir:” Clipboard said,”His ghoul son, Socks; his friend, Mortar; and the owner of the apparel shop he frequents, Muscle Mass.”
“Thank you, I’ll go to his son’s place first.” I said, walking away from my desk,”Keep an eye on the place, Clip.”
“Always do, sir.” The robot said, using a duster to clean up a filing cabinet.
My first stop was at the small hut downtown that he lived in with Socks. I went to the front door and knocked on it four times. A minute passed and I knocked again, only to hear nothing again. I muttered to myself as I pulled out my bobby pin and screwdriver and began to fiddle with the lock. Now, being an earth pony, you may think that it’s very difficult to pick locks, and you’d be right, but I had practice. I’d tell ya how I learned to do it, but I don’t want to breed criminals through this journal.
I picked open the lock, allowing it to open to a small dusty room, with a corridor leading to a kitchen, a sofa on the wall, and a bedroom to the left. I walked in, scanning the room with my eyes, until I spied a spot in the middle of the floor. I knelt down to the spot, and I noticed that it was the black fluid that Ghouls usually bleed. Next to it was a bloody knife, which I took in my hoof, inspecting it before setting back down. I got up and went to the bedroom, noticing that it was very tidy, with only the window being open. I went to the kitchen, noticing that the only thing out of place was the knife rack missing one knife. I frowned at this, mainly due to the possibility of Socks being responsible for Globe’s murder. I shook my head as I got out of the house, and towards the home of Mortar.
I heard sounds of metal being moved as I knocked on the door of Mortar’s workshop, and heard a mare’s voice,”Give me a minute!” the sound of metal bangin on the floor came as a grey, dusty mare opened the door wearing a blue mechanic’s jumpsuit. She wiped her oily black mane back,”Heart? What are you doing here? I swear, I’m not responsible for the actions of my customers!” Mortar held up her hooves defensively.
“Relax, Mortar” I said, taking out my cigar,” I’m only here to ask about Globe.”
“Oh, yes I heard.” Mortar frowned as she beckoned me inside her home,”Come inside, I’ll talk to you in my workshop.” She lead me to a room filled with a single string of lights on the ceiling, and a couple of workbenches in the corner of the room. In the back was a counter for her shop.”I can’t imagine why anypony would want to kill Globe!” She muttered, sitting behind the counter,”He was such a nice stallion, always giving advice, always being kind to others.” She sighed,”He even gave me some tips on weapon-smithing that helped get me my cutie mark!”
I tapped my chin,”Anything else you’d like to tell me? It might help me find his murderer.”
“Well, he always gave me advice on how to sell my wares, and when my mother passed away, he helped take care of me.” She frowned,”He always came here every Friday after that to have tea with me, although this Friday I did notice something off about him...”
I cocked my head,”And that is?”
“He seemed out of it, always lapsing into a trance before I snapped him out of it. He also had this snarl in his voice that wasn’t present before...” I saw her put a hoof to her chin.
My ears perked up at this vital clue,”Have you seen his son?”
She leaned back,”Well, sometimes. He and Globe always seemed very happy whenever they came by, and he would always play with my baby sister, although this Friday he seemed worried about his father. I don’t know, there was something in his eyes...”
I nodded,”Thank you ma’am.” I tipped my hat,”I think I’m starting to realize what’s going on...” I turned.
“Please, find the pony who did this! He was a good pony, even if he was a ghoul...” She said as I walked away. There was one pony left I need to talk to, and he might give me the last piece of the puzzle.
I walked into the sporting good shop and heard the loud sound of a minotaur working out,
“Aw yeah, ready to work out those limbs!?” A large black minotaur came in front of me. His loud voice managing to blow my mane behind me.
I combed my mane forward as I sighed,”I’m not here to exercise, Muscle Mass.”
The minotaur frowned as he grabbed a chair from afar. He flipped it around and sat on it,”Let me guess, Globe?”
With a nod, I said,”What can you tell me about him?”
Muscle Mass sighed,”Well, he always loved going here, even though as a ghoul he can’t really build up his muscles. He said he enjoyed watching us work out and build ourselves up, said that it reminded him of life in the old world, before the Great War.”
“Life in the old world, huh? Tell me, was there anything else he liked to do?”
“Well, he would sit in the corner and drink his Sparkle Cola. He liked to discuss culture of the old world, and after a while, he would leave for the old bridge to look out at the sea.” the minotaur sighed,”I know some creatures hate ghouls, but I can’t believe they would do that.”
“I don’t think that this was a hate crime.” I said simply, tipping my hat as I left, hearing the confused murmuring of the minotaur behind me.
My next, and maybe final, stop was the bridge.
The Golden Hoof Bridge was large, red, and very rickety. The road was in pieces, with several holes left, causing some of the carriages to fall to the water below. I frowned as I saw a ghoul standing on the edge, looking out to the water,”Socks?” I asked.
“Hello, detective. I guess you figured it out.” The stallion said with a sigh.
“You killed Globe, your own father in his home.” I said simply, walking closer to him,”But you didn’t do it out of malice, did you?”
“He was slowly going out of it. I could hear a snarl in his voice whenever he spoke to me. His eyes frequently,” He growled,”went dark.” He sighed,”He wanted me to do it.”
“He was going feral.” I nodded,”But he said something to me, something about Sunshine and Rainbows?”
Socks looked out over the sea,”If you look closely, you can see a few bits of the cloud cover being broken off, and show a bit of sun, and on the water,” He started to growl for a bit,”You’d see a rainbow. Dad loved to watch it, and” He stopped, pointing out towards the sea. I looked with him, seeing a bit of sunshine hit the water, showing a rainbow of colors,”I’m... sorry.” He said, before falling silent.
I looked at him, and pulled out my gun as he began to growl. He turned and pounced at me as I shot him in the head. I put my gun away as I turned back into the city, ready to close this case
The balefire bombs left this world a colder place, but it couldn't kill the hearts of the people that continued to live on it.
In the dark centuries that passed, love managed to live on in the hearts of those that could find it. Even today, despite the worst that the wasteland could throw at it, True Love Never Dies.
I’m writing to you in the hopes that this letter finds you in good health. Every year on our anniversary, I’ve endeavored to write a letter reminding you of what you still have here in the home that we built together. If you’re at all like me these days, it can be hard sometimes to remember how things used to be. On top of that, it’s not easy to find a working pen these days, or a clean sheets of paper for that matter. I’ll try to keep things shorter this year than the last one I sent you.
Our story starts with a few simple, frightening words. Panic. Chaos. Death. Destruction.
All of these are adept words for how the end of the world would meet us. Most ponies in the cities busied themselves with things while trying to forget the constant threat of megaspell destruction hanging over their heads. Hell, I used to be one of those ponies right up until they shipped me out to the front lines in Hoofington. Still had those fears when I stepped on that damn landmine too. My guess is that they went out around the same time my foreleg and I got a divorce. It was a shame, really. Ol’ lefty and I had some really great nights together.
Nope, after that I wasn’t afraid of the when anymore. I’d stared death right in the face on the battlefield, and I didn’t intend to get on a first name basis with it. Those days, I’d known that the end of days was coming, and from that point on, I’d intended to be prepared for when it finally arrived. Fresh from the hospital, with my medical discharge papers and a peg leg prosthetic, I’d needed a plan for the future. Of course, like all great half-cocked plans, booze was an important and imperative foundation. And that was when I met you.
Spring Tide.
Freshly promoted to captain, you were there at the bar with your friends, celebrating your pretty little officer’s flank off. Fifteen years have passed since then, and I still remember that night like it was yesterday. I bought you a drink, which you refused. I’d insisted you take it, you broke a bottle over my head. It was great fun. But the formal apology the next morning when you were sober made the pain worth it. I’d never had a mare look so ashamed of herself that she did everything to avoid eye contact with me, and as you know, I’m a stallion who’s let down quite a few mares in his time!
Still, I’m glad you came at all, because that’s when you’d told me you were just trying to bleed off stress before the last day finally arrived. You didn’t know when it would hit, but like me, you didn’t care about the when. Without that, I may have never known there could be somepony like me out there in the world. I mean, sure, odds were high that somepony somewhere thought the same, but the odds that it happened to be the attractive mare who would also give me a concussion had to be pretty astronomical.
Honestly, what astounded me more than your beauty, was your openness to friendship. Something which after a few more months of seeing each other developed into something much more serious. Sure, it wasn’t easy at first. You had your ship to take care of, off on deployment for months on end. And me? Well, I had plans to build us a bunker. Not just some broom closet with a bucket either. Oh, no. I used my medical pension supplemented with your pay to fund us an underground palace to live in.
I remember that some days we’d argued about where it’d be for hours on end. Do we build it out in the forest just outside the city? Or maybe up in the crystal range, a hundred miles out from civilization. In the end, on our third anniversary of meeting each other, we both decided enough was enough. We both brought our best ideas to the table, and we agreed that the night wasn’t over until a compromise was made.
You wanted to buy the old High Point light house and build our shelter there. That way, when the end did come, you could always find me, even if you were still out at sea. You had this amazing ten point plan for every contingency to go along with your proposal, and not a single flaw could be found by me. All except for the one point I’d brought to the table that evening. My one and only compromise, was that I wouldn’t stand for anything unless you agreed to marry me. By the end of dinner, you’d gotten your lighthouse, and me? Well, I think my real reward came with dessert in bed!
Still, we married, bought the property, moved in, and quickly got the permits in order for construction of our new megaspell safe home. Even bought us one of those fancy spark reactor things to power the place, even if it put us way over budget at first. Funny how fast those next two years went by. You were often off in the battle groups in the western seas, while me? I kept that lighthouse running every night, and our safe underground bed warm and waiting for you every day. With our shelves stocked, spare parts for everything we could ever need, I’d thought we had more than enough of everything to get us through any manor of megaspell apocalypse that would happen upon us.
Turns out I was wrong on two accounts. Time was what we hadn’t stocked up enough of in the end. The flash from when Seaddle went up was about as punctual an announcement as we could have hoped for in the end. I was down in the bunker before the blastwave even hit the lighthouse windows. The second thing I was wrong about, was that the when does matter. You weren’t slated to return from maneuvers in Marewaii for another month, and while I said I wasn’t afraid of the end times, what I was afraid of was never seeing you again.
To tell the truth, not much changed for me when I sealed the door to the outside. I still went about my day cleaning up the place, cooking some food, and doing some light reading of all the… interesting naval history books you’d stocked our bookshelves with. Don’t get me wrong, Practical Principles of Maritime Strategy: A brief summary of Equestrian naval history sounds like a thriller at first look, but it turned out to be more interesting on the thirty fifth read than I gave it credit for. Anyway, after a month or so underground, I’d decided it was high time to head topside and make sure that I could still get the old lighthouse to operate.
Oh and was that a mistake!
The glowing snows had been much worse than anything we could have ever anticipated. The moment I unsealed the door, a cascade of irradiated snow piled through the doorway and engulfed me. Up until that moment, I’d never hated snow in my life. Though again, I should be thankful I guess. I don’t know how or why, but that much radiation didn’t kill me. Well, that’s not completely true. Even as I write this, my body is dying, it’s just… taking it’s sweet time to do so.
Over the last few years, my skin has dried and cracked, my mane and tail have fallen out. Oh, and I’ve got your dad’s rasp, you know, his wheezing smoker’s voice? It’s not all downsides through. Radiation doesn’t hurt me anymore, and I’ve been able to really stretch our supplies down here because I don’t really need to eat that often. The point is, ever since that day, I’m a bit… different than you might expect. Hopefully not too different that you’ll turn around and sail off into the sunset again when you finally get back to me.
Now there’s something I’ve missed. I don’t know if you’ve got it the same wherever you are, but ever since the end of the old days, the sky's, well, missing. I don’t know why, but the pegasi cities must be real determined to keep it dark for our lighthouse, because I haven’t seen Celestia’s warm sun in years. At first I worried about why they did it, but it seems that they’re determined to never speak to us again, and I’m fine with that. Then again, it’s not like we got much sunlight living around Seaddle anyway, right? Eeyup, it still rains almost every other day here, haven’t missed much in your absence with regards to the weather.
The extra darkness the clouds provide has kept my hope alive all this last decade that you’re coming back. I’m sorry to say that because of this, I’ve deviated from your ten point plan a bit. Unfortunately, this note might be one of the last to be written while the beacon is powered. More darkness means more time to run the beacon light every day, and while a few extra hours a day might not be much, it’s certainly added up. As I write this, only one spare beacon bulb remains in the stockroom. We had a burn out last night, and so after lunch today I’ll be changing out the old one for the last time. Once this next one burns out, the light to guide you home will go out forever.
I wish that I could come find you. That I could charter a ship to sail the open seas, scouring the waves until I could once again find you. Sadly, I fear that I’d have the misfortune of setting sail the day before you returned, and I can’t afford to leave you here on your lonesome. So here I’ll stay. Even if the last beacon burns out, the love for you I still hold in my heart will continue to call out to you. Please, come back to me.
Yours for the rest of time,
Quicklime Bastion
P.S. You know what I just thought? I’ve been really holding up my end of our end-of-days plan over here, and have yet to see anything from your side of it yet. I know I’m not the easiest stallion to live with, but would it kill you to make it home for our anniversary dinner this year?
P.S.S. If you could pick up some fresh milk from the store on your way home, that would be great. I think our current bottle went bad a decade ago.
“There.” I sighed happily, spitting the pen out onto my desk. A cursory sweep over the three pages I’d written brought a smile to my muzzle, and a renewed hope in my heart. I felt good about this note! This year would be the year that she’d finally get it and come sailing back to me, I just knew it. Pausing with my thoughts, a peculiar burning smell caught my nose. “Oh shit! The soup!”
After nearly burning my lunch on the stove, I was sort of glad that my tastebuds had somewhat dulled with my unusual condition. Today’s soup wasn’t more than just boiled down pickled turnips, but I was saving this week’s rations for tonight’s special dinner. A broccoli and mushroom quiche, served with a well aged fifteen year old bottle of wine, and to top it all off, and entire carrot cake made out of mushed together fancy buck snack cakes. Everything about tonight was going to be wonderful. As usual however, there was just the one part of it always missing, and I didn’t strictly mean ol’ lefty.
As I cleaned up the few utensils and dishes from the soup, I put on Tide’s favorite record. As usual, I must have looked like an utter fool as I danced around the room in a slow waltz with only a wet dishrag as a partner. Still, the music always helped to keep me focused, and there was still so much to do before the evening got started up.
I swept the kitchen, dusted the bookshelf and all the light fixtures. After getting dinner started, I even did my best to fix the leaky pipe under the bathroom sink that’s been annoying me for almost a month. Returning my plumber’s tools to the near barren supply closet, I stopped and looked to the shelf in the back of the small room. The single, yellowing cardboard box sat all alone in the corner next to the compact spark reactor. It felt like it must be as lonely as me, undisturbed since the door had sealed shut what feels like so long ago. Trotting over to it, I peeled back the sealing tape, opened the top flap, and retrieved the last beacon bulb we had.
Only to find that it was somehow already burnt out.
“Well, that’s what we get for bargain shopping.” I sighed, trying desperately to not let this dim my hope too much. Really, this had been the worst thing to happen to me since I misspelled colloquialism twice in last years letter. I knew things were going too well today when I didn’t have a single error in there this time. Well, other than saying I still had one bulb still left usable that is. Hoofing the broken bulb back into the box, I set it back down onto the shelf, and went back to my preparations.
A few more hours of preparing dinner flew past before the old wind up clock chimed the hour of six, letting me know that both the darkness of night and this month’s high tide would be waiting for me outside. Wrapping myself in my raincoat, I hobbled over to my desk and promptly rolled up my letter as tightly as I could. Holding it in my fetlock, I grabbed last anniversary's cleaned out wine bottle with my muzzle and slowly guided the note inside. I would have made a comment about how lewd it felt shoving it in there, but unfortunately I think I’d used up all my good ones over the last decade. With the note secured inside, I firmly pressed the old cork top into it, sealing my letter inside.
Today, the wind was colder than normal for this time of year. Stiffer too, nearly battering me off balance as I trotted across the small lawn around the base of the towering lighthouse. The darkness of night lent me no favors, but the wind had whipped up quite heavy waves that capped almost against the top of the small cliff we our home was perched on. The rhythmic crashing and rolling of the ocean as I stood at the precipice of the High Point cliff face was serene and calming. I closed my eyes and stood there for a moment, taking in everything around me, before raising my remaining forehoof as high as I could reach it.
With all the force I could muster, I threw it as far as I could into the wild western seas. Maybe this year it would find it’s way to my love. Maybe this year, she’d come back to me.
The rending and shearing of steel made me jump and cringe, bright sparks filled the night from only a few hundred feet away down the shoreline. The sound was as puzzling as it was jarring, and it sent my heart rate racing as my mind tried to catch up on it’s own time. Almost immediately, a flickering set of lights illuminated the interior of a small vessel that seemed to have run aground on the rocky beach below. A shadowy figure moved inside slowly, trotting out of sight of the heavily fogged and dirty windows.
Intrigued, my heart jumped and commanded my hooves to move, while forgetting I’ve been a three legged pony for quite some time now. At a hasty hobble, I wrapped around the edge of the cliff down toward the beach. It screamed at my mind to process just what had happened, even if I could see it with my own two eyes. Was is possible? Could it be...?
“Quicklime!?” A voice not unlike the gravely tone of my own called out through the night. Even masked under the scratchy sound of it, I knew that voice. “Quicklime, are you there!?”
“Spring!” I cried out, half laughing, half actually crying. This was the moment that I had waited ten years for. “Spring, I’m over here!” Spring was hard to see in the poor illumination the boat gave, but she moved with nearly as much swiftness as I did. “Could it really be you?”
Clambering over the edge of what seemed to be a junky tug boat, the bright seafoam green eyes I’d always loved hunted for me in the darkness. “Quick, I… I’m sorry!” She cried out, collapsing as she dropped out of the boat. “I was stranded on a reef in Marewaii, and it took me forever to find another seaworthy boat, and…” With a stumbling skid, I slammed against the side of the boat before dropping down next to her. She seemed to be suffering from the same affliction as I was, but it was her.
“Oh it is you.” I whimpered, pressing my hoof to her quivering muzzle to silence her. Instead of saying something else without thinking, I ended up throwing my legs around her tightly to let my brain catch up a bit. Then, for the first time in ten years, I felt somepony else return a hug. “I knew you’d come back to me. I never gave up hope…”
She laughed through her tears as she held me tighter than she ever had. “I’ve missed you, so much.” Loosening her grip a bit, she pulled back and looked me in the eyes. “I… I love you, Quick.”
“And I love you, Spring.” I managed to get out between my own joyous sobs. “You’re home now, and you never have to leave again.” Sniffling, I leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. To that, she returned the kiss on my own before simply pulling me close again. “Happy anniversary, my love.”
“Happy anniversary.” She sighed, relaxing in our embrace.
So after all, it turns out I was wrong for a third time. While we had run out of time before, the when of the end of the world hadn’t mattered after all. So what if the world had blown up a little bit? Nothing much had changed for us when it did. She sailed back to me in the end like she’d promised, and that was just the way we’d planned it. Even if it did take a little longer than we’d thought.
Planting my lips on hers, I was just happy to finally have her home for good.
Do you know what it feels like to be a race unknown to the Wasteland? To be something that feasts upon something that’s extremely rare in what was supposedly post-apocalyptic Equestria? To have what my kindred would say was an unknown destiny just because my eye color was different from my brethren’s green coloration? To be abandoned by my kind and yet saved by not your own? To have a fear of the unknown of this harsh yet changing world? To fear dying just because I’m different? Well, I do and my life would have not been easy if I was not saved by four very kind people who took me in as a friend. A friend… that word was foreign to me for a long time and yet I feel somewhat nostalgic about hearing that word again. I bet you guys and girls don’t really understand huh? Here let me explain a bit better this time…
My name is Noir and well, I’m a changeling. As I said before, changelings were unknown to Equestria for a very good reason. Lack of good sustenance between the ponies here, see us changelings feed on the love of ponies to survive. I know weird right? Anyway, I’m getting a bit off topic. Changeling have the ability to disguise themselves into what they deem fit. Since I’m unknown to the ponies here save a few allies and friends, I disguise myself as a unicorn mare. Now you’re wondering how all this all adds to the topic of love right? No worries people, I’m getting there. I swear you’re all impatient sometimes. Let’s see, where should I start? Perhaps a good area to start would be after Littlepip activated the S.P.P. tower…
Two weeks after the activation of the S.P.P tower
As a little detail I forgot to add, I love children. Not only are they so fun to play with but are rather good to help my love problem. Now don’t get the wrong idea about what I said. My horn is what allows me to feed off of the love so I’m not harming the little foals that are playing around. Anyway, I’ve rambled on long enough. Let’s begin with what I have to say, “Alright kids! Your parents are here to pick you all up!”
They were all sad to hear that their parents wanted to pick them up now. Of course they wanted to stay a bit longer. I had to roll my eyes just from hearing their protests. Children these days, they never want to leave. I can’t blame them though; I had some fun playing around with them. They all resigned and left to the entrance where their parents were awaiting them. I saw their happy faces as many of ran up to their parents. I had a few thanks and what-not and it felt good to be thanked. I waved farewell to the children and parents leaving home.
I was ready to leave back to home when the last filly left in the room ran up to me and hugged me, “Thank you Miss Noir, you’re the best!” Despite his timing of hugging me, I let a smile form as I gently patted the little foal’s head. She was a filly pegasus with a beautiful turquoise blue coat. Her eyes match the color of my eyes and to be honest, I felt like I was looking at myself when I was younger. Well if I was a pony that is.
My smile was beginning to fade from the idea of not being accepted because of who I truly am… The filly was rather perceptive as she noticed my smile fading, “Miss Noir? Why are you not smiling?”
Despite her being worried, I couldn’t smile for so long, “I’m not… hey, aren’t you supposed to be with your parents?” I couldn’t help but realize that her parents are not here yet to my surprise.
I saw her expression shifting to a more solemn look yet she still was a bit cheery, “My parents are rather busy with their jobs. They’re always so busy in their work… I tend to wait for them outside or in here.” I can understand if their jobs made them take longer in their shifts. I wonder what jobs did they have to have to leaver her here.
My smile was returning back to my face, “Hey there no worries, I’m sure your parents will pick you up from here…” I saw her becoming more cheery and a bit excited from my sentence. I did not want to clean this room again from the mess she might make, “Hey now, don’t start…” As I was about to continue, a few knocks was heard from the door. I had to resist a facehoof from the interruption. I hope it was this young filly’s parents here to pick her up. I stood up and went for the door as a few more knocks came by. I opened the door with my magic and much to my surprise yet again, it was not her parents but rather Fluttershy herself, “Oh, hello Fluttershy! What brings you here?”
A small smile formed on her face as I moved out of the way for her to enter, “Oh nothing, I just came by to visit is all. That’s not a problem right?” She shrunk a bit before returning back to a normal position.
Fluttershy, always the shy one, I would be very much caught off guard if she didn’t live up to her namesake, “Oh not really, just have a pegasus filly here who's waiting for her parents.” I saw the yellow, timid pegasus looking at me confusingly. She looked to her left to see the filly I was referring to.
Another small but this time concerned smile formed upon her face as she stepped forward to see the pegasus filly, “Why hello there… Um, what’s your name young one?”
Fluttershy did always manage to somehow manage to let a smile form on even the most unlikely of species. It’s like Pinkie taught her well or something. The filly seeing the gentle Fluttershy in action and adding to the fact that she’s a pegasus like her made her smile as she introduced herself, “Oh! Um… could you promise me to not laugh at my name?”
I raised an eyebrow at that question. What’s wrong with the filly’s name? It’s not like its anything silly or something right? The yellow pegasus beat me to the answer while still wearing her signature smile, “I’ll Pinkie Promise it for you…” She performed the gestures of the famed promise as she was reciting the lines, “Cross my heart, hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye…”
The filly chuckled seeing the promise in action. Guess she never saw it before huh? I saw the filly slowly lowering her hoof and letting her laughter calm itself, “That’s a promise made by Pinkie herself? I think I want to try that myself someday…” We both smiled seeing that Pinkie’s famed promise might still be remembered by the newer generation of ponies. The filly was quick to notice that we were getting off topic. Smart kid I tell ya, “Er… right, um… my name’s Elias…”
Elias? What a strange name for a pegasus filly like her yet one that I have to admittedly like for odd reasons. Fluttershy shared my sentiments though she didn't seem to find odd that her name was expected, “Elias? That's a beautiful name there...”
The filly was actually blushing! Sweet mother of Celestia, did anyone ever said that her name was beautiful? Apparently that would be a no as Elias putted it embarrassingly, “T-Thank you Miss Fluttershy, you're the third pony to say that my name is well... um, nice...”
I can see who the other two were to be honest. Still this came as a surprise for the timid (maybe I should stop saying timid since she won't be for so long) pegasus, “Oh my... no one has ever said your name was beautiful? What a horrible thought...” She looked at me wondering if I shared her sentiments. Well of course I did! I'd probably be the second being here to understand the filly's plight.
I decided to step up next to Fluttershy and said my part, “Yeah, I agree with Fluttershy here. In fact...” I looked at the yellow pegasus in question. My look was enough for her to understand what I wanted to do. She simply nodded as she stepped back a bit. This left the filly confused about what was going to happen. Were I to be in this filly's hooves, I'd be confused as well but I know what I'm doing. I let a sincere smile form on my face. I wanted Elias to know that I mean her no harm even though she may already know. She returned the smile back which made my heart possibly flutter in joy, “I'd like to share a secret of mine to you... Only my friends and Miss Fluttershy know this secret and I'd like to share it with you. But you have to Pinkie Promise me that you'll never tell it to anyone, I... I'm still kind of scared of how people would view me as something completely different.”
The pegasus filly took what I said of me being scared of how everyone feels about my true self rather surprisingly well. Oh sure, she thought that I was crazy for saying something like that when almost all the foals and parents like me, but my true self would have spoken differently to them. She might be able to understand what I’m going through but of course I know she’s just a kid. Yet even with her being so young, I somehow hoped she would understand even if only a little. A small smile formed upon her face, “I'm... not so sure why you'd be scared when everypony likes you but...” Silence reigned for a while as she eyed me with a certain glee, “I'll keep it a secret for you Miss Noir...” She performed the gestures of the Pinkie Promise as she recited the lines.
After finishing the promise, she looked at me with an insatiable curiosity almost rivaling that of Twilight Sparkle. Hehe, wow I can't believe I just said that. I looked t her about a good three seconds before letting my disguise fall. Green flames enveloped me as my body was beginning to transmute itself back into the bug-like body of the changelings. The flames dispelled themselves revealing my true form to the filly. I saw her eyes widen whether in awe or fear I couldn't say, probably both for all I know, “Well, here's my secret shown to you... please don't hate or fear me because of this.”
She took a few steps back. I lowered my head, I knew that this was too good to be true. She's almost afraid of me, I can see- “That... was amazing Miss Noir!” It already...? I looked at her in clear surprise to hear that. She saw my look of surprise and out of nowhere went to hug me, “I don't care about your looks Miss Noir! I just like your for who you are, not what you are...”
This kid... She was definitely smarter than your usual filly almost like Twilight when she was a filly growing up. I think I felt a few tears escape from my eyes as I wrapped her. I was rather overjoyed and glad to hear that someone likes me despite my true origins, “You're the first pony to like me despite me showing my true origins... well, besides my friends that is...”
The three of us (yes, I did not forget that Fluttershy was here) joined in each others laughter. It felt good to laugh like this. Fluttershy stepped forward next to me the and the filly still wearing her smile, “It's good to see you accepting Noir so quickly. To be honest, I thought you might run away from her when she revealed her true colors... no offense Noir...”
”None taken...” I'd share her thoughts as well but you saw how it actually went.
The filly did let a small laugh escape from her, We noticed it fairly quickly and were looking at Elias oddly, “Um... is it bad that I already knew what race Miss Noir is?” We looked at each other first before looking back at Elias. She took the silence as us allowing her to continue with what she has to say, “Although I just learned about Miss Noir's secret, I know that she's a changeling... right?”
Despite us being shocked from hearing that this pegasus filly knows what my race is, I couldn't help but smile at that. My smile was enough of an answer for Elias and she was jumping around a bit, “That's so cool! I heard that changelings feed on the love of beings from family love, to um...” I think the filly understood what she was about to say next as she skipped that part and went onto the next thing about my race, “Anyway, I also read that changelings can become other ponies but to actually see one... It's so cool!”
This was rather something to behold, “So... you don't find my kin to be creepy?” I couldn't find a better word to describe my kindred without being rude to my own kind. I ay have been long abandoned by them but they are still a part of me.
She shook her head looking at me with gleaming eyes, “Nope! I find them to be... um, interesting I guess?” I couldn't help but chuckle at that.
Fluttershy stepped up again, this time next to Elias, “It's great that you know about this and all but um... how and when'd you learn all of this knowledge?”
You know, the yellow pegasus did bring up a good point. She was rubbing her two hooves together, her body language was showing signs of nervousness. Why did I get the feeling that what she might say next is going to be crazy? I saw her looking at me at first before looking to the ground, “I... I always liked them for odd reasons... I don't know why but I've always been fascinated by them...”
A knowing smile formed upon my face. I'm not so sure why, but I think I may have found someone I could speak with about my kind even if she is just a filly, “Well if you want to know more about the changelings, you can always come to me so I can tell you all about the changelings if that okay with you?”
Elias's eyes were gleaming again, “Yes, I'd like that please!” Suddenly, a knock came towards my door. Instinct kicked in as I transmuted back into my pony form. A knock came again as I rose with Elias behind me, “Coming! Just give me a few moments!” I went to the door and opened to see a unicorn mare looking at me with a knowing smile.
Before I could say anything else, Elias went running towards them all happily, “Mommy! I had fun with Miss Noir today!”
The unicorn were smiling at the pegasus filly as they hugged her, “Oh did you now?” She looked at me still wearing her smile, “Thank you kindly dear, sorry that I was late, my job always keeps me busy you know?”
I just gave a dismissive hoof not minding them being late, “Oh it's no worries, I had fun with the little lady here, that's all.”
”That's good to hear, well I got the bits for the...”
I raised a hood stopping her from continuing further, “Keep the bits, you should know that I take care of them for free right?”
An embarrassed blush formed upon the mare's face as she put the bit back, “Right, of course, I had forgotten about that...” She put the filly on her back as Elias gave out a yawn, “Well, I'll be leaving you be, thank you taking care of my child.” I just only nodded as she left me to return home.
I went back inside the room to see Fluttershy standing up and planning to leave. She was at my side looking at me with a smile, “You always know how to handle things huh?”
As much as I wanted to continue this conversation further, I decided to end it here with a few last words to her. We were both tired and it was getting night. I returned her smile back “Always Fluttershy...”
Lemon Frisk looked at the murky pink haze in front of him, and turned to glance down behind him. Of course, the place he really wanted to glance at wasn't there; it was on the other side of the mountain. So he just glanced down at the path he'd taken last time, in the other direction. The path out of Canterlot.
It had been about a year and a half since the events in Whinnyapolis had changed his life. So much had happened. The Whinnyapolis Collective thrived, and for the first time since Equestria had been destroyed, he'd been truly happy.
And yet, he had to do this.
The Stable residents had been worried, of course, and Misty Cloud doubly so; he'd told her enough about this damned place to dissuade her from ever visiting it. And now he was going back there himself. Because, last year, like all those years before it, he hadn't felt happy on Hearts and Hooves day. Despite having Misty with him, he'd felt miserable. And this year would be no different.
"I went through all this too, remember?" Misty had said. "You feel like you're betraying her."
"That's stupid. She's been dead for two bloody centuries," he had replied. But he knew she'd been right anyway.
"So what do I do now?" he had asked, hesitantly.
Misty had just shaken her head. "That's up to you, Lemon. Whatever gives you peace."
And thus, he'd gotten the bloody idiotic idea to go back there. To her. To Canterlot. To the old garden in Stable One which served as graveyard for those residents who, unlike himself, hadn't gotten back up after they'd died.
He plunged into the pink cloud and breathed in the necromantic poison. How strange, to feel nostalgic about that smell. About the poison that had killed him.
* * *
It felt just as strange to walk back into the big cog wheel door of Stable One. Like... coming home to your parents' house after having moved out years ago. This was the place where it all started. Where, about a year and a half ago, he'd randomly decided to leave Canterlot completely. Why did he leave? He still didn't quite know. Some kind of wanderlust just... appeared. He never could quite pin down exactly what it was that had made him go. But, in hindsight, he was happy that he did.
The ghoul leaning against the wall inside the Stable hallway cocked his head and frowned. "Lemon Frisk?" he asked, somewhat incredulously.
"Hey, Telltale." Lemon said, and walked on.
"Woah woah, pal," the other ghoul said, running after him. "What's up? I thought we'd never see you again!"
Lemon Frisk smirked. "Well, as you can clearly see, I did not get eaten by any monsters."
"Really?" Telltale said with a smug grin. "That's not what Buoyant Waves said."
Lemon groaned. "Oh, great. He's been here. Of course he's been here. What did he say?"
"Said you got hitched," Telltale said. "To a smoothcoat, no less. Must be one freaky mare." He suddenly frowned and looked at his pipbuck. "Hey, Lemon. Why the hell are you here, then? Today of all days. It's Hearts and—" His eyes widened. "Oh. Shit. Hey, I didn't mean to..." He sighed. "You were married, weren't you? And she's..."
Lemon nodded. "Here."
"Right," Telltale said, giving him an unsure look. "You, uh, go on then, pal. Go visit her."
Telltale looked as Lemon Frisk made his way down the corridor, in what he knew to be the direction of the old gardens. He nodded sadly. "We all got loved ones there."
* * *
Lemon Frisk looked at the chunk of concrete they'd put down as Blossom Tree's headstone, and the smaller one of his son, Lemonade Sparkle, beside it. Memories of a corpse melted into a wall and the unliving eyes of the foal standing beside it flashed through his head, but he pushed them away; that wasn't his family. This place brought back those horrible memories of the end, but he knew his real wife and son were in there, if he just dug a little deeper...
He frowned and glanced at the graves. Poor choice of words, even if he hadn't said them out loud. He couldn't help but chuckle, though; that errant silly thought had broken the morose atmosphere, and that made it all so much easier. She always laughed at his jokes, no matter how weird they'd been...
And there it was. The memory of her shrill laugh. He smirked; everypony thought her laugh was such an annoying sound, but that made it all the more endearing to him; it was so undoubtedly hers. The wide curious eyes of his foal were next; the amazement and wonder as Lemonade Sparkle listened to his made-up endeavours of Daring Do attempting to tackle the various household tasks a parent had to do.
"So," he finally said. "Here I am, then." He looked at the name carved into the gravestone. Between his old squad mates and this, he had far more experience carving names into stones than anypony should have in a life time. And that was in his original life time, too.
"I know I haven't been visiting... well, at all, I guess. I avoided this whole place even when I still lived here. And I won't make any excuses; I know what I'd really been been avoiding was you."
He shifted uncomfortably and stared at the ground. "So, uh... I know I should probably not feel as conflicted about this as I do—there's the whole 'till death do us part' thing, after all—but... I met someone new. Kinda married her, too, though in all fairness that was somewhat by accident." He smiled somewhat awkwardly. "Not that I didn't want to, though."
He imagined her reaction to this. Not his gut insecurities, but her real reaction, taking all the facts into account. He could almost feel her, draped over his back as she usually was when he was sitting like this, whispering sweet nothings into his ear.
"It's about time, you know."
Lemon frowned and looked up. He looked down again. Yes, that actually was what she would say, wasn't it? Huh.
"You changed after we died. It hit you too hard. You fell, and you never got back up. And yet, here you are at last. That's because of her, isn't it?"
Lemon Frisk smiled and nodded. "Yeah. It is." He looked at the gravestones. "All that was left of you was... this, and 'this' was just far too painful to remember. So I just pushed it all away, and wandered around this place..."
"Like a zombie?"
Lemon blinked. "Oh, very funny. But, yeah."
"It wasn't all her, though," the imagined Blossom Tree voice in his head said. "You were the one that left. You took that first step."
"That just makes me feel more conflicted, though," he replied. "It took me two bloody centuries, and then the first thing I did was running farther away?"
"The first thing you did was creating some much-needed distance."
Lemon nodded. "You always did know how to twist my words against me."
Imaginary-Blossom bit his ear. "Hey now. None of that. So, that new mare... uh, it is a mare, right?"
"Have I ever given you the impression I played for both teams?"
"Well, you never know! So yeah. I assume you want my... approval or something, then?"
Lemon chuckled. "I feel silly now. I already know what you'd say."
"And I did. Well, you imagined I did. Unless this is my ghostly old self keeping you company. You'll never be sure, hee!"
Yes. This was right. This was the Blossom Tree he really remembered. The mare who played word games with him. The mare who eagerly waited to be swept off her feet into more of his silliness. Less confrontational than Misty, more prone to going with his flow, but she did it with a fierce determination that was all her own. And, to be fair, unlike Misty she never had to deal with the wreck of a person he became after her death.
He frowned. Well. Obviously. Because she was dead. Another weird throught there, huh.
He looked at the gravestone and smiled. "So, now what, then? I just... go?"
"Feel free to stay for a while. But not too long. You know she's waiting for you."
He nodded and nuzzled the empty space next to his head where her head would be, were she really draped over his back. "You're right. I'll just stay a while."
* * *
A few hours later, Lemon Frisk left the graveyard, then Stable One, and then Canterlot. A couple of years later a little mare would emerge from a nearby Stable and events would be set in motion that would result in the destruction of the city hanging on the mountain. Lemon Frisk would never visit his family's graves again.
* * *
Somewhere, nowhere, a conversation took place.
"Is this really alright?" a young adult stallion asked. "I didn't imagine you'd be so mellow about it."
Blossom Tree smiled. "Are you kidding? He's finally getting on with his life. You expected me to be all 'vengeful jealous spectre' on him? Hah. We all just want those left behind to be happy, y'know."
"Yeah, but still... that's him! He was finally here, and now he's just... gone again."
Blossom smiled. "Good. You never tried to do anything, you know. Do you have any idea how hard it is for the dead to influence the world of the living?"
"He actively channelled you. That can't have been too hard."
Blossom Tree smirked. "Oh, not this. This was easy, yes. No, I meant the previous time."
The stallion's eyes widened. "You did that?"
"I had to! He was stuck! Just an errant thought. A weird brain knot. Setting things in motion. And it still took me more than a century to pull it off."
"You made him go away," he said morosely.
Blossom Tree shook her head. "You never knew him quite like I did, but even you should've seen that he wasn't meant to be like that. And you know how he's been doing now; I know you've been watching him. Looking back at the past two centuries, would you really take that away from him? We died, you know. The world goes to the living."
He gave her a grouchy look. "He died too. He should've been with us. Then we would all have moved on ages ago."
"That wasn't his fault. And we chose to stay, Lemonade Sparkle. Me, because he couldn't let me go, and I knew he'd come back for this some day. You, because you were never old enough to grasp these things, and nothing he did in all that time could teach you." She nodded as she watched the figure of Lemon Frisk walking through the wastelands, back to the place he now called his home. "But look at him now. He's alive again. That is a pony you can learn from. That's enough for me."
Lemonade Sparkle gave her a worried look. "So, you're... going, then?"
"Oh, yes. I'm going. There's an airship somewhere, moving on to great places. He came back. We talked. What more is there for me? I've hung around this place long enough." She smiled at her son. "I know you're not ready to go; not when things are finally moving again. So watch him, like you always have. Just, promise me, Lemonade, that you won't watch him with envy. Watch him shine as he shone back when we were all together. Be that wide-eyed foal once more. Learn from him. And when he is ready to move on... be there for him."
She walked away into a distance that wasn't distance, stopped, and turned back to the stallion, who looked much younger and smaller now; barely above the real age at which he died.
"I'll be waiting for you three."
Special perk: Guardian Angel: Someone is looking over you. You have the strange sensation you've had this perk for a long time...
“I’m just saying, Lyra,” Bon Bon followed her best friend into the living room, “That its a good idea to be prepared. Stable-Tec says th-”
“Exactly! Stable-Tec says.” The aqua mare interrupted Bon Bon. “You do know they make money for everypony who signs up for a Stable, right?” Lyra’s tone was condescending, as if the idea were beneath consideration.
“I know that. I’m just saying that maybe we should consider it. Its a ‘what if’ that scares me. What if the Zebras did something crazy?”
“You think the Zebras could get anywhere near Canterlot? You’ve been listening to Pinkie Pie too much.”
“I worry about things, yeah. I can’t help it when you’re involved.” Bon Bon sighed and wiped the moisture from her eyes.
“I know. I’m lucky to have a friend like you.” Lyra stepped close and nuzzled her friend’s cheek. “I’ll think about it. I’ve gotta go. I have a meeting up in the Ministry Walk today. I’ll be back in time for dinner, ‘kay?”
“Okay. Don’t keep me waiting too long though. I’m making that pasta recipe I got from Fluttershy.” Bon Bon wiped the last evidence of tears from her eyes and hugged Lyra tightly. “Be careful, okay?”
“Pshh. You know me. I’m the carefullest mare you’ve ever met.” Lyra smirked and stepped out of the small Canterlot apartment the two mares shared. Bon Bon stood in the doorway and waved until Lyra descended the stairs and disappeared from sight.
“Be careful, Lyra… I have a bad feeling…” The cream mare stared longingly at the spot Lyra had last been at for a fraction of a moment longer before turning away and going back inside.
***
About twenty minutes later, Bon Bon was making herself some chamomile tea to calm her nerves. She needed something to take the edge off her fraying nerves. A splash of brandy in her tea did the trick.
Settling into her favorite seat in the living room, Bon Bon stared out the window that overlooked the small market across the street. It was one of her escapes, watching everypony go about their business. A small part of her wished she could be like that; unafraid of a threat that would probably never happen.
She found herself quickly slipping into a more relaxed state, no thanks in part to the alcohol in her tea. The mare closed her eyes and let out a small sigh of contentment as she unwound. ‘Maybe Lyra’s right. Maybe I am worrying too much.’ The wail of sirens echoing out over the city disagreed with Bon Bon.
Bon Bon jumped to her hooves with a start, knocking her tea to the floor as she stared in horror out the window. Somepony had erected a large magical barrier over the whole of Canterlot, and explosions could be seen rocking the outside of it. Without a moment’s hesitation, Bon Bon dashed from the apartment and bolted up the street.
‘I have to get to the Ministry Walk. Lyra will know what to do.’ Terror gripped the mare as she fought against a screaming crowd of ponies desperate to get to wherever they were headed. The city guard was trying to shout over the cries of terror in the street, attempting to organize some kind of evacuation. Bon Bon found herself pushing as hard as she could to get past the throng of terrified ponies.
And then she was through. With most of the crowd behind her, Bon Bon was able to take off at a full gallop. Her hoofsteps echoed off the buildings, lending an eerie feel to the suddenly emptied streets. Rounding a corner, Bon Bon finally saw what had caused the crowd of ponies flee in terror.
A rolling cloud of pink meandered down from the Royal Castle, engulfing anything and everything in it’s path. After a moment’s hesitation, Bon Bon charged forward, intent on reaching Lyra.
It burned! The moment the cream mare made contact with the Cloud, every nerve in her body screamed in pain. It was as if she had been dipped in acid. Not one spot of the mare was safe. Her skin, eyes, and even hooves all screamed in pain, threatening to overwhelm her senses.
Bon Bon pushed forward, unable to see more than a few feet in any direction. She was moving forward based on her knowledge of the area rather than sight though. Her lungs burned for clean air. When she took a deep breath, Bon Bon found herself slowed by a violent coughing fit. When she pulled her hoof from her mouth, she found it covered in crimson stains. ‘Have to… keep going.’
Everything ached. Every hoofstep became a labor in-itself. Bloodied hoofprints trailed behind Bon Bon as she struggled forward. Her hooves felt like glue, sticking to the cobblestone pathways and pulling free with faint pops.
She was here. Bon Bon couldn’t say how, but she knew that Lyra was here. Skin had begun peeling free in large globs as Bon Bon moved forward. She knew there was no way out of this, but she didn’t care. She just needed to find Lyra and everything would be okay. Just needed to see Lyra one last time.
And find her she did. Mere feet away, an aqua lump sat in in peculiar manner on a bench. It looked like she hadn’t had a chance to move before the cloud had taken her. Bon Bon’s body went slack as she collapsed forward.
“Lyra…” She wanted to cry, but her melted skin made the act impossible. “I’m sorry. I should have made you stay. With me.” Words were becoming difficult as Bon Bon’s jaw stopped moving the way it was supposed to. ‘I’ll find you again. Someday, in some lifetime. I’ll find you.”
Nothingness engulfed the mare as she willed her final thoughts to her dead friend.
~Twenty Years After the Last Day~
“I found you.” An emaciated brown stallion stood near the pale orange pegasus that he was addressing. She had taken refuge in a Pony Joe’s shop, Barricading as much of the building as she could with chairs and tables, leaving only the kitchen entrance unblocked. “How are you feeling, Breeze?”
“I’m okay.” The pegasus lied. “It doesn’t hurt as much today.” She winced in pain as she shifted her weight in an attempt to lessen the pain in her leg, which had clearly suffered a serious injury sometime recently. She looked no better than the stallion, with her ribcage clearly visible against the stretched skin of her torso. “Did you find anything, Shutter?”
“Yeah, I found a little bit of food and water.” Shutter left out the part about how he had found it hidden near the corpse of somepony strung up by raiders. Breeze had enough to worry about without adding nearby psycho ponies to the list. Shutter split the meager rations up marginally evenly, allocating just a bit more of the food and water to the injured mare. “You should eat. Its been days.”
“I could say the same to you. When’s the last time you ate?”
“I snuck a bit of food before getting back.” Shutter lied. “I needed it just to make it back here.
Breeze nibbled in silence. The pair had met back in Ponyville, and had stuck together ever since being run out by a particularly vicious group of raiders. It was Ponyville that Breeze had broken her leg in three different places. Since then the only way she was able to move was shorter and shorter flights from building to building in an attempt to stay safe. Shutter had taken the burden of scavenging upon himself in that time. Breaking off from Breeze when it was necessary to replenish the meager supplies they had. Part of Breeze wondered if eventually Shutter would just not come back one of these times, realizing that she was more of a burden than she was worth. Shutter proved to be loyal, always returning to Breeze with soft words and supplies to keep her going.
“Is there something on my face?” Shutter interrupted the thoughts of the injured pegasus and making her realize that she had been staring at him. A faint touch of heat crept into the mare’s face.
“I was just thinking.” the pale orange mare looked away for a fraction of a second.
“About what?” Shutter tilted his head questioningly.
“How long have we been traveling together?” Breeze took a sip of water as she waited for a response.
“A few weeks?” I don’t really keep track of time since the bombs dropped.” An involuntary shudder passed through the stallion as he reminded the nightmare of his childhood. He quickly suppressed the memories that seemed to always try to engulf him when he thought back to before the war.
Breeze simply nodded and discarded the empty wrappers of her meal and stored the barely touched water in a nearby saddlebag. She scooted close to the stallion and snuggled up to him.
“I’m glad we met. You’re a good friend.” Breeze felt Shutter tense up for a fraction of a second before he nuzzled her mane gently.
“I’m glad we met, too.” Shutter let out a soft sigh. “We should get some sleep. You’ve got a long way out to Manehattan.”
“Mhmm.” The pegasus relaxed against her friend and closed her eyes. “Shutter?”
“Yeah?”
“I think I love you.” A faint smile touched the mare’s lips as she spoke the words.
Shutter paused for a slight moment, as if the words were caught in his throat. “I think I love you too, Breeze.” He leaned gently against the mare. The two were asleep in minutes.
***
Breeze awoke just after dawn. Or what passed as dawn since the Pegasi closed up the sky after the bombs dropped. The familiar green-gray of the sky greeted the mare as she tentatively stood.
“Sun’s up, Shutter. We should pack up.” Breeze nudged the stallion gently. He didn’t stir. The mare let out a small giggle at how deeply he could sleep. ‘He’s pretty cute when he sleeps.’ She nudged him again, with a little more force. “Wake up Shutter. We need to get moving.”
The pegasus’ brow furrowed as the Stallion didn’t move. Looking down at him, Breeze was struck by just how still Shutter was. She nudged him with a bit more force as worry started to set in.
“Wake up, Shutter. You’re starting to worry me.” She was shaking him now. Still no response. Her hoof came away from her friend sticky. She looked at the mysterious stickiness on her hoof, horrified by the reddish color staining her hoof.
“No…” Breeze leaned in close, parting the fur around where she had been touching until she found what she was afraid of. A deep cut, only about an inch wide, located between two of Shutter’s ribs. Parting the cut, Breeze could just make out a piece of metal embedded inside the stallion.
“You were hurt. Why didn’t you tell me?” The distraught mare spoke down to her friend as if he would somehow spring to life and answer. “I still have a healing potion. Why?” Tears flowed freely as the mare began shouting. “You shouldn’t have been so selfish and left me alone!” She wrapped her friend in a deep embrace as sobs wracked her frail body.
Breeze stayed like this for some hours before the tears would no longer come. She finally pushed herself away and took a deep breath. Nothing could be done about her fallen friend. She quickly packed up her things, adding Shutter’s meager supplies to her own. She made sure to grab the food he had left untouched for her last night. With a gentle kiss to Shutter’s brow for a last goodbye, Breeze adjusted her saddlebags and left. Manehattan was waiting and by the Goddesses, she would make it. For Shutter.
~Roughly One Century After the Last Day~
The explosion of a grenade shook plaster down from the ceiling. Gouge found himself pinned along with the rest of his company of mercenaries, the Crimson Talons. A seemingly endless hoard of raider ponies kept trying to make their way into the building that the mercs had barricaded themselves into in a desperate last stand.
“Same shit, different day, right Boss?” Crash Course yanked the pin from a grenade of his own and tossed it out a broken window. A few seconds later he was rewarded with his own explosion, this one accompanied by the screams of raiders. “Music to my fuckin’ ears!” The yellow earth pony grinned and readied another grenade.
“Keep a few of those for their big pushes, Crash!” Melody called to the stallion over the din of battle. “Ammo conservation is your friend.” The unicorn mare demonstrated her meaning with short, controlled bursts from her submachine gun.
“Yeah, yeah. You really know how to spoil the fun, Melody.” Crash’s statement caused melody to roll her eyes at the stallion.
“You two have the subtlety of a wounded duck. Tell us, when will you finally buck?” A fourth member of the group, Xenos, called. The zebra coolly lined up a shot with his rifle as another raider entered view. Xenos bit down on the trigger of said rifle, adding an extra hole to the raider’s skull.
“Ha! You know she’s holding out for the Boss.” Burnt Oak, the final member of the group chimed in from the back of the building.. The ex-raider was busy booby trapping the back exit, in case of a raider getting smart enough to flank his friends. A simple spike trap would be enough to deter most, but Burnt decided that a bit of razor wire would be a good addition.
“Can it, Burnt! We’ve all heard you alone at night!” Melody retorted, a slight blush in her cheeks. Her response brought laughter from the rest of the crew.
“Focus on the fight!” Gouge called out, silencing the crew with his trademark no-nonsense tone. Ever the pragmatic one, the gray griffon had earned the respect of his companions over years of guiding the group through nearly any life-or-death situation imaginable. He clutched his Zebra Rifle tightly in his talons, frustration gnawing at his gut. Raiders would usually disperse after enough of the damned things died. Why were they so insistent this time?
A more powerful explosion rocked the building, tearing the front of the building open and showering debris over the mercenaries. Further down the street, a raider could be seen with a missile launcher strapped to the side of his battle saddle. Gouge didn’t like this one bit. Though they had some cover, the destroyed wall made the group a lot more exposed.
“Xenos, take care of him!” Gouge called to his marksman.
“With pleasure. I shall dispatch him quickly for good measure.” Xenos replied. He lined up a shot with a degree of accuracy that always seemed near magical. Xenos waited until the raider popped a new missile into place before putting another rifle round down the barrel with explosive results.
“Nice shootin’ Xenos. Wish you coulda let me keep that launcher though.” Crash grinned. He had switched from lobbing grenades to mines, pressing a button on top of the explosives before tossing them like frisbees to cover the new entrance to the building. Each time a new raider stepped into the area, they were blown apart, only to have a new mine take the place of the last.
After a few more minutes of this, combined with the constant lethal fire of the rest of the group, the torrent of raiders had become nothing more than a trickle. Finally, they stopped coming in at all. Gouge spotted many of the raiders starting to turn tail and flee.
“Told ya, boss. Same shit, different day. I knew we’d make it through again.” Crash Course grinned. “How many caps ya think we can loot off o’ these guys? I’m guessing at least three-hundred.”
The rest of the group began to visibly relax, smiling and exchanging quips as they set upon the bodies to gain whatever useful things they could scavenge. Gouge simply surveyed the street outside, making sure that no raiders lay in ambush.
“What do you think made that many run? Most of the time raiders will fight to the last.” Melody stepped up next to her leader, an inquisitive expression on her face.
“I don’t know. Maybe we should just count our blessings and move on before we meet something worse.” Gouge replied, finally satisfied that no raiders seemed intent on continuing the fight.
“Fuck fuck fuck fuck!” Gunfire punctuated the stillness along with Burnt Oak’s foul mouth. The rest of the group turned in time to see Burnt flee from the back of the building and towards the street. A split second later, a behemoth of a creature tore its way through the back wall and fell upon Burnt before anyone could react, picking up the merc and ripping him in two.
It stood on its hind legs, blood dripping from the large claws tipping the thing’s arms. Through the dirt and concrete dust coating it’s fur, Gouge could make out the brown of its fur. The thing stood still, only turning its head to scan the four surviving members of the Crimson Talons. The rest of the mercenaries slowly backed towards Gouge.
“Boss? I take it back. This isn’t same shit, different day.” Crash couldn’t keep the fear from creeping into his voice. “We’re not equipped to take on a Hellhound.”
“I know, Crash.” Gouge weighed his options carefully, trying to find a way out of the situation before he lost another friend. The Hellhound made the decision easy as it let out a deafening howl to the gray sky above and crouched low to pounce. “Scatter!”
The mercenaries bolted in different directions, opening fire on the beast. Crash pulled a grenade launcher from his saddlebag, loading a shot and quickly firing, scoring a hit against the Hellhound’s face. Xenos began backpedaling on his hind legs, balancing his rifle carefully in his forelegs and unleashing a volley of shots at the knees of this new opponent. Gouge and Melody split off in two different directions, strafing to the sides of the Hellhound and providing suppressive fire for the comrades with the heavier firepower.
The Hellhound shrugged all of this off, propelling itself forward with its powerful muscles. It closed the gap between itself and Xenos in a split second, swiping at the zebra with powerful claws. Xenos’ natural agility proved to be the only thing that kept him alive as he dodged and weaved around the attacks, dancing a hair’s width around death.
The rest of the mercenaries shouted and unleashed a volley of lead at the creature, trying to pull its attention from the zebra. Nothing seemed to slow the creature’s advance. A sheen of sweat began forming on the zebra’s brow as he whirled about in a desperate bid to survive.
The Hellhound switched it’s swipes at the Zebra without warning, digging a claw into the concrete street and ripping it upward. Chunks of the street blocked the view of the Zebra for a fraction of a second too long. The Hellhound thrust a clawed paw forward, catching the Xenos in the gut and lifting him high into the air, bringing him level with the Hellhound’s gaze.
Xenos silently said a prayer to his ancestors before thrusting a powerful hoof forward into the eye of his enemy. His action was rewarded with a wet pop as viscera began oozing from the eye socket of the Hellhound. The Hellhound responded with a howl of pain and a swing of his arm, shaking the impaled zebra from his claws and sending him through the air until a wall stopped his flight with a wet thud. Xenos fell to the ground and moved no more.
“You fucker!” Crash shouted at the top of his lungs and began frantically showering the seemingly unstoppable beast with explosives. The Hellhound turned to the loud thing, its good eye filled with murderous intent.
“Yeah, bring it you stupid fuck!” Crash pressed the attack with a renewed vigor. He kept switching from grenades to his launcher to mines, refusing to give the Hellhound an opportunity to advance. It flinched back from the ever-changing barrage of explosives. And then the Hellhound was gone, the only evidence that it had been in the spot previously was a hole leading into a subterranean darkness.
“Did it run?” Crash tentatively stepped forward and peered through the hole.
“Keep an eye out. The damn thing could still be nearby.” Gouge responded tersely.
“Yeah. I hear ya. I’ll keep an eye ou-” Crash couldn’t finish the sentence as the Hellhound returned from the earth underneath him with the speed of a runaway carriage. Fangs sank deep into the earth pony’s neck.
Crash gurgled as his lifeblood seeped out, reaching a hoof into his saddlebag. A near-inaudible click triggered the telltale beeping of a mine. Crash gave one last smirk to Gouge before being torn apart by a large explosion that forced the Hellhound from its feet.
A pang of guilt tore through Gouge. The third of the day. He stared bitterly at where the Hellhound laid. Three of his friends had fallen taking down the beast. He spat on the ground, the taste of bile in the back of his throat.
“Shit…” Melody stepped up to the Hellhound’s body and nudged it with a hoof. Tears had begun to spill down her face. She’d traveled with the Crimson Talon for nearly five years. In that time, she’d seen ponies die, but never once had the casualties been the friends she fought beside.
Gouge stood some feet away, surveying the carnage. He would give his friends proper burials. It was the least he could do for them. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the nigh-imperceptible signs of movement. The Hellhound was still breathing, a detail only someone with eyes of a hunter could spot.
“Melody, get back!”
Too late. With a burst of speed that would have been impossible for any other creature, the Hellhound lashed out at the nearby pony. Her leg sailed away with a crimson arc trailing behind it as the mare fell to her side, her only forehoof attempting to stem the bleeding as her high-pitched scream filled the air.
Gouge took flight, charging straight at the Hellhound as it stood. The pair tumbled away from Melody. Gouge let out the cry of a warrior cornered. He knew he couldn’t match the Hellhound in power, but he had flight. As he slid, his talons raked against the concrete of the street, giving him enough purchase to straighten and take flight.
From there his tactics became hit and run. Unsheathing the axe he wore strapped to his back, he alternated between diving in and slashing and letting loose volleys from his Zebra Rifle. This continued for a few minutes, with the Hellhound swiping viciously each time Gouge came close.
The rhythm of Gouge’s attacks was broken by the Hellhound lashing out higher than expected, its claws slicing cleanly through the griffon’s wing and sending him spiraling away. The Hellhound advanced slowly, like a predator that knew it had already won. Gouge struggled to stand, acutely aware of how exposed he was. Unfortunately, his body was unwilling to cooperate. The Hellhound loomed above him. Its rancid breath assaulted Gouge as the Hellhound lowered its gaping maw to claim victory.
“Hey fucker.” A weak feminine voice forced the Hellhound to snap its head upwards, mere inches from Gouge’s prone body. The Hellhound had inadvertently lined its damaged eye with a submachine gun magically floating in the air. It focused its good eye on the three-legged mare with a scowl who lay a short distance away. “Go to Hell.”
Melody thrust the weapon forward, embedding the gun in the damaged eye of the Hellhound and opening fire. She drained the entire clip into the beast’s brain, not letting up until the weapon began making a clicking sound, even though the creature stopped moving. Melody let the gun slip from her grip, leaving it embedded in the Hellhound.
“Gouge…” Melody forced herself forward along the ground. It was an agonizingly slow crawl. She came to a stop a few feet from the griffon she called ‘Boss’, reaching out her front hoof to the leader she could never confess her feelings to. A talon gently reached out and clasped the hoof.
The griffon simply smiled warmly. “I know, Melody.”
~The Day of Sunshine and Rainbows~
‘The sun. By the Goddesses, I never thought I’d see the sun.’ Winter Lily stared at the sky, awestruck. Sunlight warmed the apricot colored mare through the gaps in the branches of a long-dead willow tree. It was an unfamiliar kind of warmth. Different from the campfires she was used to. This was a warmth that seemed to fill her up, like embracing an old friend who had been away for far too long.
Lily let her weapon fall from her mouth and stepped forward from the shade. Hours of fighting the had culminated in this miraculous removal of the clouds that had covered the skies her entire life. She recalled the words her grandmother had told her when she was a filly.
“Someday, the world’s gonna change. Might not be in my life, or even yours. But mark my words Winter Lily. When that time comes, you best make sure you been doing the right thing.”
The mare brushed back a stray lock of white mane, allowing sunlight to fully bathe her face as she stood atop a hill. Below her many of the combatants had dropped their own weapons, their faces turned skyward as well.
”First time?” A deep voice asked from behind her, pulling her from the hypnotic beauty above.
Lily turned to see a maroon pegasus approach. He was clad in a uniform like the rest of the Enclave soldiers she had seen today. Her eyes darted to the weapon she had foolishly dropped.
“I’m not gonna hurt you. I’m done all this fighting.” Lily doubted the stallion’s words. He looked upwards. “I never thought about how ponies down here have never seen it.” His words seemed introspective, like he was a touch sad about something.
“Yeah… I never thought I’d see it to be honest.” Lily replied after a brief silence. “Part of me thinks I’m just dreaming.” Whoever this stallion was, he didn’t seem like a threat. In fact, Lily didn’t see any sort of weapons on him.
“Maybe you are.” the mare’s attention was pulled away by the stallion’s odd statement. “Maybe this whole thing is a dream and someone will wake up and everything else here will disappear.”
Lily furrowed her brow. “You’re weird.”
“Maybe.” The Stranger chuckled. “It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been told that.” He stepped forward and sat down next to Lily. “Maybe I’m the one who’s just waking up now.”
“What do you mean?”
“Today’s the first time I’ve taken a look at the bigger picture. Before now I’ve followed orders and just taken everything up above for granted. You know what,” The Stranger began pulling at his uniform. “I don’t think I’ll need this anymore.” He dropped the clothing in a heap next to him before turning and smiling at Winter Lily. “My name’s Wildfire.”
“Winter Lily.” The mare replied, somewhat dumbfounded by the peculiar stallion. She sat in silence for a few moments before looking back at the sky. “What are you going to do if you leave the Enclave?”
“I dunno.” The stallion stated matter-of-factly. “I guess that’s part of the fun though. Like an adventure.” He grinned goofily. “You should go too.”
“I- Go where?” Lily sank deeper into her confusion, feeling like she was only hearing part of Wildfire’s half of the conversation.
“I dunno. You just look like you need some kind of adventure.”
The apricot mare giggled and shook her head. “After today, I don’t need adventure. All I want is a nice cup of tea. Maybe with some brandy in it.”
Wildfire smiled and flopped onto his back. “That does sound kind of good. Can I have some too?”
“I-” Lily honestly had no idea how to respond the the peculiar pegasus. “Sure?” She couldn’t explain it, but for some reason Lily didn’t not want this stranger’s company. Wildfire just smiled his goofy smile, like this was an everyday thing between the two of them.
“Wildfire? This is going to sound odd, but have we met somewhere?” Lily asked, knowing that she had certainly never met Wildfire before. Wildfire’s smile slipped away as his eyes seemed to fog over. He wore the expression of somepony trying to remember the last few bits of a dream before it slipped away completely.
Log Entry 45: I’ve been watching him for some time, thinking he might be the one. Attempting to learn all that I can about him. Results are thus far inconclusive, though quite hopeful. Despite everything that he has gone through, the beatings, the back-breaking work and the pain of losing loved ones, he has remained compassionate, brave, loyal… Loving. I’ve seen the way he looks at her. The faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He is good at hiding his emotions, perhaps too good. I doubt she’s ever noticed the way he feels. She cares about him, but not the way he hopes. Where he sees her as a possible lover, she sees him only as a friend, possibly a brother. He’s spent his years of torment and pain pining for her. She is his shining beacon of hope. Hope for a life of his own. With her. But the one for her -the object of her affection- died so many years ago. She hasn’t opened herself up to other possibilities. She likely never will. Were he to learn the truth, it would crush him. There is another, though she is completely oblivious to her feelings. She is… well, quite honestly, terrible at expressing her emotions. Her infatuation is obvious to many of her colleagues, and she is often the butt of their jokes when she is not around. It is possible she doesn’t understand her feelings for him. She doesn’t have much experience with feelings of the heart after all. He is nearly ready. I’ll have to keep observing and wait for the perfect time.
“Move your lazy ass, slave!” the yellow unicorn mare bellowed as she cracked her whip across my flank. My eyes slammed shut and I bit down hard on the handle of my shovel to remain silent as my flesh split apart and blood flowed from the wound.
Don’t scream… Screaming is what she wants....
“Hurry up! Or I swear to the Goddesses I’ll make you wish you were dead!” she roared as the whip drew back for another blow. I jabbed the shovel into the parched earth and moved a load of dirt to the growing pile next to me. The whip cracked again and I froze as pain threatened to overwhelm me once more. I could feel my blood running down my side and the throbbing sting of the nerves suddenly exposed to the moist air. It took a moment before I could focus enough to jab the shovel into the ground again. The mare snarled and trotted forward to stand beside me.
“Damn you,” she hissed through grit teeth. “You worthless piece of shit. I’ll break you of that defiance yet. You just fucking wait.” With that she spun and trotted angrily away. “You! Get your ass in gear!” she roared at somepony behind me. I heard her whip crack followed quickly by a pained screaming. When I was sure she was suitably distracted with her new target, I lowered myself to my knees and let out the deep breath I’d been holding.
“Hey,” a gruff voice called. “Yer Free, ain’t’cha?”
I looked up. A stallion stood over the hole I’d been digging. A mean looking rifle was rigged to his harness and a gnarled scar that marred the right side of his face receded to be hidden by a distinctly ratty cap. I slowly pushed myself back to my hooves and lowered my head.
“S-sorry. I’ll get back to work,” I said. The stallion rolled his eyes and circled the shallow hole, staring down at me as I bit the shovel and started digging once more. I felt his eyes fall over the deep gashes in my back and heard as he sucked on his teeth.
“Lash do that?” he asked.
I said nothing and continued to move dirt from the hole to the pile. The stallion smirked and sat down. He doffed his filthy cap and ran a hoof through his patchy mane before replacing it.
“It’s fine. Ya don’t need to say nothin’,” the stallion said as he deftly retrieved a rolled smoke from his breast pocket. “But ya should know ya don’t have ta keep diggin’. She just wanted an excuse ta whip ya.” This time, I hesitated. That did sound like something Lash would do. She wasn’t the embodiment of the element of kindness after all. I glanced around nervous and the stallion chuckled and waved me down.
“S’ fine. Take a minute to compose yerself,” he said. I stabbed the shovel into the dirt and lowered myself back down as I allowed myself to react to the pain radiating across my back.
“Th-thanks,” I said through gritted teeth. After a moment I glanced up at the stallion. “I… I haven’t seen you around before.”
“Yeah. ‘Fraid I’m new,” he responded laconically. “But you. Heh, they tell alla us ‘bout you.”
My ears perked up.
“Th-they do?” I asked. The stallion nodded.
“Yeah. Nothin’ good though,” he said with a shrug. My ears fell and I looked down.
“It’s my name. Isn’t it,” I muttered. The stallion’s smile widened and he nodded.
“Oh yeah. It’s their favorite runnin’ joke. Never would’a figgered slavers for fans of irony,” he said as she scratched a hoof across his chin. “Or fer knowin’ what irony is fer that matter…” He glanced down at me and took a moment to thoroughly stare at the leaking gashes in my hide.
“Glad I’m the...” I started, but a pained grunt choke off my sentence. It took a long moment to regain my composure. “...l-life of the party…”
“Uhh… ya need a hoof gettin’ ta that robot to take care of that?” he asked. I shook my head and shakily stood up.
“C-can’t. If I do… sh-she whips the others worse…” I muttered. I could practically feel his eyes tracing along the jagged curves of pink flesh that peeked out of my grey coat.
“I’m guessing she does this to ya a lot,” he muttered.
“It’s as you said,” I said quietly, “I’m the f-favorite joke here.” I seized the shovel in my teeth and jabbed it into the dirt before stamping a hoof down on the blade to drive it in further. I did my best not to pay any mind to the pain that coursed through me with each movement I made. The stallion watched for a moment before lowering his head. He retrieved a match with the unoccupied portion of his mouth. With a deftness that most unicorns would be jealous of he struck it on his hoof and then angled it into his cigarette until it took flame, took a few puffs and then spat out the match just before it singed him.
“Ha! Didja see that?!” he shouted excitedly. “Finally did that without burnin’ myself or spitting out the cigarette!” he said proudly as he puffed. If I had rolled my eyes any harder they’d surely have twisted themselves free of my skull.
“Yes. Very impressive,” I droned. If the stallion noticed, he said nothing as he puffed on his cigarette. He was quiet for several long minutes as I painfully dug the worthless hole deeper.
“So,” he said, breaking the moment of quiet. “‘Bout that mare friend o’ yours?” I jabbed the shovel into the dirt and then looked at him.
“Lash isn’t a friend!” I spat. The stallion chuckled and shook his head.
“Lash ain’t no one’s friend. Nah, I was talkin’ ‘bout that other mare. The one you was brought in wit.” The stallion rubbed a hoof against his chin as he thought. “Wha’s her name? Ya know, the one wit’ the red mane.”
Despite myself I smiled.
“Jerry,” I said.
“Ya! Tha’s her! I have a question fer ya ‘bout her,” he said.
“Can’t really stop you,” I muttered as I eyed the shovel carefully. If I swung it right I could stave in his skull or cut his throat, at the very least it could crush his windpipe. Then I could bury him in this worthless hole I’d been made to dig. He wouldn’t be the first slaver to approach me about Jerry, but I’d be damned if I let anything happen to her.
“Whoa… easy there, fella.” the stallion said as he held up his hooves. “I didn’t have any untoward plans. Just an honest question.”
I took a slow, deep breath. I must have given him some clue. Normally I was so good at hiding my emotions. Maybe I was too drained from my injuries to bother with hiding it.
“What’s your question?” I snapped, growing weary of his presence. He smiled and turned his head to look at me sidelong.
“Why ain’t ya told her?” he asked.
“Told her what?” I narrowed my eyes and looked at the slaver closely.
“How ya feel ‘bout her,” he said. My jaw tensed and I felt my stomach begin to tie itself into knots as he continued, “I’ve seen the way ya look at’er. Why ain’t ya told her how ya feel?”
“Really?” I said, dumbfounded, “Now isn’t exactly a good time.” I said, gesturing with a hoof at our surroundings. All around us ponies labored, sweated and screamed. The pony Lash had gone to torment after I proved to be too stubborn lay curled up in the dirt, bleeding from a half dozen gashed across her hide while Lash barked at her to get back to work. The slaves closest to her deliberately looked away and continued to work despite her screams for forgiveness and help. I took a step closer to the slaver and spoke in hushed tones. “This place doesn’t breed love or happiness, or anything good. It destroys it. When we’re out of here, and we WILL get out, then I will tell her. But not before. Not here…”
The stallion regarded me coolly. It took me a full minute to realize I had told a slaver I planned on escaping.
Shit… now I’ll definitely have to kill him…
Slowly a smile spread across his face. My eyebrow arched.
Okay… not the reaction I was expecting...
“Well alright,” he said. He stood with a grunt and tipped his hat to me. “See ya ‘round, Free. Best o’ luck with yer plans. I’ll be rootin’ fer ya.”
I watched him go, unsure as to whether he was playing me. Was he heading off to turn me in to Zero?
I bit down on the shovel and resumed my pointless task as my mind mulled over the strange stallion. Was he going to rat me out? Was he genuinely friendly? Was I setting myself up for something? My mind mulled over the possibilities until the evening whistle sounded and tore me from my reverie. The hole had swollen to twice its original size as I had blindly dug, too distracted by my own thoughts to notice.
“Free?” a soft voice called. I glanced up and shielded my eyes from the work lamps that hung from the guard gantries. “Come on ya big lug, it's time to let the evening crew work.”
A smile tugged at the corners of my mouth and I spat out the shovel.
“Yeah… okay Jerry.”
“Aw jeeze, Free…” she muttered as I climbed out of the hole. “Lash again?”
I glanced back at the dirt caked wounds on my flank and sighed.
“What can I say? She lives up to her name.” I responded. “Nevermind that. Let’s head back before the rations are handed out. I need something to eat.” I strode towards the road now bustling with the slaves as they trudged back up the corkscrew road. Jerry followed, chastising me for taking Lash’s punishment. I just offered a faint smile and enjoyed her company.
This was definitely not the place to tell her. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t enjoy one of the few good things here.
Log Entry 45 Cont’d: Despite official protocol I made direct contact with my subject. It was… enlightening, to say the least. His emotions are tightly bottled, more so than any of the others around here. And where the others are all various expressions of fear, hatred and sorrow; His are decidedly more… stoic… and dare-I-say hopeful. There is a drive in him that has been lost to many of the others, if it was even there to begin with. I won’t risk further contact for now. I need to maintain my cover. But… today’s encounter was promising.
Hot Brass strode toward the bedroom done, floating a small package behind him. It was the fifth anniversary of his marriage to Rose Bud, a lovely Earth pony the color of her namesake flower, and he was going to be damned if he let the war get in the way of celebrating. Besides, he had three days left on his leave, he planned on spending them well. He paused at the door, listening to his wife hum a tune to herself, before smiling and rapping out the first part of a challenge-response that the two had come up with when they first started seeing each other. Two fast, three slow. There was a clattering on the far side of the door, probably some of her makeup, and a short pause before she gave the response, two slow raps. Brass's smile went ear-to-ear as he opened the door and embraced Rose, "Happy anniversery, love."
"You remembered," Rose teased.
"How could I forget, it was the happiest day of my live," Brass said, "and the funnest night." His grin turned raunchy as Rose blushed.
"And the nights since?"
"Oh, there's never a dull night with you, but that's the first time I had that much..." he started laughing as Rose playfully hit him, "Ooo, assaulting an officer. I'll have to take you into custody for that, Might even have to preform a little..." -he waggled his eyebrows- "...interrogation, who knows what else you're doing."
"Stop, you teaser," Rose giggled, "you'll make me smear my eye-liner."
After the laughter died down, Brass brought the package around and presented it to Rose, it was a small, royal blue clam-shell type jewelry box. "To commemorate the five best years of my life." Rose gasped when she opened it, inside were two silver necklaces, the pendants were matching halves of a heart, and had either a rose or a spent rifle case, the couple's cutie marks, inlayed in them in gold.
"They're so beautiful, are they..."
"Pure silver, straight from the mines in the Crystal Empire."
"How much did this cost?"
"Sorry, that's classified," Brass said with a grin.
"You shouldn't have."
"Nonsense, nothing's too expensive for you." Brass levitated the necklace with his cutie mark on it and fastened it around Rose's neck, "So you can remember me while I'm away."
Rose took the other and put it round Brass' neck, "So you can remember me," she said softly as she hugged Brass. After a few moments embracing, she said, "I was going to save this for dinner, but I have some good news."
"Oh?"
"I'm pregnant."
Brass pulled away and held Rose at arms-length, "Really?" He asked excitedly. Rose nodded, smiling. "I'm gonna be a papa," he said, a silly grin plastered on his face.
Rose giggled and started toward the kitchen, "I'll make breakfast, papa."
"I'll help," Brass said as he followed Rose down the hall, "Oh, I almost forgot, Stable-Tec sent the passes. We're in."
"I hope we don't need those."
"Me neither, but it's better to be prepared."
"I know, but I get scared when I think about it."
"Me too," Brass said as he hugged his wife to comfort her, "me too." They were still embraced when a uniquely chilling sound found its way into the house, air ride sirens.
"Brass?" Rose said, her voice tinted with panic, "What do we do?'
"Get the the chariot, I'll be out in a moment." Brass said as he ran to the their bedroom.
"What are you doing?"
"Getting my pistol!" he responded, "Now hurry." Returning with the firearm strapped to his foreleg, he grabbed the stable passes in his magic as he followed Rose out. After making sure that she was secure in the chariot, he strapped himself into the harness and started running as fast as he could to the Stable. When they arrived, there was a swarm of ponies surrounding the gate to the compound, all clamoring for entrance. "Make way for a pregnant mare!" Brass yelled as he neared the herd. The ponies leaped out of the way of the chariot as it skidded to a stop in front of the gate. Brass imeaditally unbuckled himself and helped Rose down, only to be stopped by one of the four guards.
"I'm sorry, but you're going to need passes."
Brass magicked them out and waved them infront of the guards nose, "These good enough, soldier?"
"Yes, but you're going to have to wait, there are other ponies who got here first and-"
"You will escort my wife to safety, that is an order, private!" Brass yelled, reading the rank from the guard's uniform.
"Who do you think you are!" a voice called from the crowd.
Brass wheeled on them, "Captain Hot Brass, Third Charioteers of the grand Equestrian army, that's who!"
"This is an abuse use of power!" another pony yelled.
"Yeah, and try and stop me!" Brass barked before turned back to the luckless private, "Now give me your gun and take Rose to the Stable!"
"Brass, what are you doing?" Rose asked.
"Keeping you safe," he said, "now go, I'll come when I can." The private unbuckled the battle-saddle mounted machine gun, released it to Brass's magical grip, and led Rose into the cave that marked the entrance to the Stable. Brass turned back to the crowd, "Those with passes form a single-file line and make your way the Stable in an ord-" A mare screamed and pointed into the sky. The unmistakable vapor-trails of four missiles were arching their way to the city below. The ponies erupted into panic, desperately trying to get through the gate to the safety of the Stable. "Fall back to the cave, we'll hold them there!" Brass yelled over the screaming at the guards before making his way the entrance. The three guards had barely made it to the relative safety of the cave when the thundering boom of the first bailfire bomb sounded, followed shortly after by the shockwave and a deep rumble like Equis itself was groaning. Three more blasts shook the earth, each bringing a new wave of heated air and the cold tingling of dark magic. After the rumbling stopped, Brass went to the mouth of the cave and looked out at the city, it was mostly flattened and what remained was burning with green dragon-fire.
"What do we do, sir?" One of the guards asked.
Brass was silent for a moment, "We survive," he looked at the pony, "If you have any rad-away, pass it around." Brass looked back at the city before tuning back to the cave. "When the fires die down we'll need to start scavenging the city." He hung his head as he made his way deep into the cave to the Stable's door, sealed shut against the magical radiation that filled the air. "I'm sorry, Rose," he said as he put a hoof against the cold metal, "I didn't make it. I love you." Brass broke down and wept.
Fifty years after the Last Day
Brass slowly made his way back into the cave after a long day of scavenging what remained from the city. He stopped for a moment at the small graveyard outside, he and the guards had buried the unfortunate ponies that had died outside when the bombs fell. One of the guards joined them shortly after when he killed himself. As Brass entered the cave, he thought back to the months after that terrible day. The two surviving guards had started showing signs of radiation poisoning a week after the bombs day, while he seemed unaffected. It was only a month afterwards that the effect the radiation had on him was evident. Tufts of fur falling out, skin turning leathery, voice becoming gravely. He was becoming a monster, what other ponies started calling ghouls. When the two guards left to die elsewhere, he stayed, to continue waiting for and protecting his wife.
Brass shrugged off his finds into the pile of loot from the city and continued down into the cave, to the Sable door and the memorial he had set up for Rose. His hooves slowly clip-clopped on the hard stone as he followed the path Rose took all those years before. When he reached the small alter, he took his half of the necklace pair from where it hung and rubbed it, both to polish it and to refresh his memory of Rose. After a few minutes, he returned the jewelry to its place and laid down at the foot of memorial. He stayed this way for what seemed like hours before a screeching pierced the air. Brass's head shot up as he looked at the source of the sound, the Stable door. His mind raced as he tried to decide whether or not he was dreaming, after a few moments of indecision, he realized that the sound was real. The Stable was opening. He jumped to his hooves and ran to the door, smiling, he was going to see Rose again. The door had slid back about a third of the way when it froze, the screeching replaced by a low whine followed by a dull twang. The silence was deafening. Brass's smile slowly fell as what had happened dawned on him, the door was stuck and the mechanism responsible for opening it had broke. Brass rested his head against the great door as he wept. After a few moments, he heard thumps coming from the other side, two fast, three slow. He hesitated a moment before knocking twice on the cold metal. Instantly, a barrage of thumps, like somepony was beating on the other side, sounded. All Brass could do was hang his head as spasms from held-back tears shook his body.
One hundred sixty years after the Last Day
Brass sat in the cave, hunched over his latest kill. He had long ago lost his sanity, gone feral. He had no reason to stay, and yet he did. Something in his animalistic mind prevented him from straying too far. Even though most ponies avoided this area, he still had a fairly plentiful food supply in the form of wildlife, such as the deer that he had killed. As he started to consume the dead radstag, a sound came from deeper in the cave, one that he had not heard for a long time. He slowly crept to the Stable door to investigate the screeching. When he reached the cavern, he hid behind a pile of rock and watched. The door slid back, screeching in protest, and finally rolled to the side, revealing two ponies. One was a cream earth pony stallion, and the other was a red unicorn mare. Both had pistols strapped to their forelimbs.
"Well, it's finally open," the stallion said as he started out into the cave.
"I thought you would come up with something more poetic," the mare said. Something about her was familiar to Brass, although he neither remembered where from nor cared.
"Not everything can be poetic, Rose," the stallion responded before looking back into the Stable, "I only wish that more made it to today."
Rose hung her head, "Yeah, me too." Brass broke cover and ran at her, screeching. Before either pony had time to react, he slammed into Rose, flipping her onto her back. He was about to continue the attack as she scrambled backward when something shinny around her neck caught his attention. He leaned in to get a better look, it was a silver half-heart with a rifle case inlaid in it. He froze as something buried deep in his subconscious awoke, and he remembered his wife.
"What do I do?" The stallion mumbled around the pistol that he was aiming at Brass.
Rose scooted out from under the ghoul, her eyes wide with shock, "Just- just give it a moment."
"That thing tried to kill you!"
"Yeah, but it didn't. I- I think it saw Grandma Rosie's necklace."
The stallion holstered the pistol while keeping a weather eye on Brass. "Why would that stop it?"
"I have no idea." Brass let out a plaintive wail, Rose cringed, "But I'm not complaining." She righted herself and stood up. "Let's get to the surface, see what's left." Just as she started walking, Brass nuzzled her lovingly. She froze mid-stride, ears plastered back and eyes wide.
"I think it likes you," the stallion said, chuckling.
"Shut up, Mac."
"Sure." Mac trotted forward, and noticed the remains of the memorial. "Hey, check this out."
Rose shook herself from the shock and joined Mac at the small pile of rubble. Amidst the long dead candles and remnants of wood lay a tarnished pendent and chain. Rose levitated it to eye level. Brass pawed at it as it hung from the crimson grasp of Rose's magic. After a few moments of watching it spin, she rubbed it on her jumpsuit to clean it and saw the gold inlay, "That's Grandma Rosie's cutie mark!" She glanced to Brass, an expression of wonder on her face, "You're Grandpa Brass, aren't you?" Brass chirped when he heard his name. "You waited. You waited for your wife," Rose said, eyes tearing up. "She said you did." She bit back tears and, with shaking magic, fastened the necklace around Brass's neck. "So that you can remember her."
The next morning Rose and Mac left the cave to start their lives above the surface, and Brass followed.
Deep in the wastes, there exists a legend. A legend of a meadow that has never seen rainfall. This meadow has said to been around for over two hundred years, and yet knowledge of it’s existence has fallen into obscurity. The path is said to be shrouded in mystery, deep in the woods of the treacherous Everfree forest. I visit regularly, paying respects to those who tried to make the world better. Have been off and on since it was first created. How I’ve lived this long isn’t important; what is important is the most recent visit I made to it.
As I walked down the path, past a castle long ago destroyed, I noticed a figure ahead on the path, a pony. Now, it has been a long time indeed since I saw anypony venture down this path again, so I decided to shadow them, see where they were headed.
Sure enough, this pony continued down this path, leaving the ruined castle in the dust and walking further into the everfree. This pony, a mare from what I could tell, was moving unusually slow. She did not seem too terribly old, yet the her hooffalls spoke volumes about her; it was as if she carried a great weight, but she only had on light saddlebags.
It is quite difficult to shadow someone whilst wearing a bright red duster, yet I followed her to the secluded hilltop without incident, barely even an acknowledgement I was there. I knew she knew, though. I’m not the greatest at stealth, but the way she changed her pace after I had showed up, and the way she paused at one point lead me to believe she knew right where I was. I did manage to stay out of range of her pipbuck, though. I guessed she was just waiting to see if I would attack her or not, and was too focused on her own task at hoof to care otherwise.
She didn’t wear much, an old tattered jumpsuit from a stable long gone, and the aforementioned saddlebags and pipbuck. There was something in the saddlebags, judging from the bulge they made, but it seemed quite light from how she walked.
The road was a long one, cutting a winding road through the entire forest that lead to a mountain on the far side of it. Through the side of the mountain was a cave tunnel, cut through long ago by magic. It lead a winding say up to a small outcropping, on which there was a circular meadow, secluded between rocks on 3 sides, with the last side overlooking most of Equestria. In the middle of the meadow were 15 stones arranged in one large circle of 6, and one circle of 6 within that one, and having 3 stones in the middle of both, two of which stood tall above the rest while the third was smaller than the others. They stood as a monument to those long passed, in remembrance. The sun shone low over the far horizon, casting the ground in an almost golden glow. It was a sight to behold, and one I always enjoyed by sitting on the edge and gazing upon our world. It was a wondrous sight, and it paid great respect to those who were laid to rest here.
This time however, I stayed at the back of the cave, watching the mare as she quickly made her way to specific graves. She navigated the clearing like she had been here many times, but I would have noticed her at least once if that were the case. Opening her saddlebag, she levitated out fresh flowers, setting them atop the stone slabs, carved with unicorn magic long long ago. I despite being far away, I knew each grave’s location by heart. The grave with the Dashite Symbol, element bearer of loyalty Calamity. The grave with a singing songbird, element bearer of kindness Velvet Remedy. The grave with 3 bubbles, element bearer of laughter Ditzy Doo. Each grave signified one of each generation of Element bearers, with the inner circle representing the original 6 former ministry mares and the outer 6 representing the bearers who saved the wasteland. The other 3 representing Princess’ Celestia and Luna, with the last saved for the spark, the lightbringer Littlepip.
The mare set one bouquet down on the grave for Fluttershy, the original element of kindness, before walking and setting down two bouquets and a bottle of ash down in front of another grave. Instead of going for the rest, however, she sat in front of this grave and stared at it for the longest time. The sun eventually set, taking with it the golden glow that had accented her brown mane and grey coat. She stared at the grave for a long while, reaching out and touching it slightly, trying to reach someone long gone. Clouds were beginning to move in as I turned to leave her. As I walked away though, I glanced back and noticed the drops of rain beginning to fall. The spell that had been cast over the meadow was now gone as it saw the makings of its first rainfall. The S.P.P. shut down, there was nothing keeping this place dry anymore. But the light drizzle could not compare with the tears that came from the mare herself. Walking away once more, I left her to grieve at the grave of element bearer of honesty, Homage.
Not even two hundred years could dissuade the Lightbringer from loving her.
Equestria: A land decimated by war, by mega-spells that had blasted the once-peaceful nation, and had torn so much life from the land. Even after many decades had passed, the radiation kept all but the strongest of colors and life under lockdown. Its poison mutilated once-thriving creatures as it spread, destroying some, but leaving others alive but unrecognisable. That which survived the initial fallout, and could continue to survive in the deadly levels of radiation that cared not whom they took from, changed them into beasts that evolved to endure and roam the land, searching for food. Only the toughest could truly survive out in the wilderness, many chose to remain in their secluded sanctuaries, clinging to fading images, praying to the lost princesses. Others chose to band together in great numbers in the hope of staying safe. Still others did the best they could to take back the world, challenged the heartless universe to its worst, living a reckless existence, as if each day could be their last.
Some chose a different tack, resorting to baser instincts. Cruel and uncaring, they only sought to carve their names into world, to be feared, and thus be protected until the extinction of their legend. Prestige and infamy took the place of money and social standing, and having a fearsome reputation would keep many of those foolish enough to draw blade or gun trotting away in fear.
Between the timidly built new settlements, and the larger ones that grew from the remains of what were once bustling towns and cities, lived those that had made their peace with the empty, hostile parts of the land. Those that place turrets outside their homes to discourage slavers, raiders and particularly foolish mutated wildlife. That use magic and ingenuity, strength and cunning to deter slavers looking for easy captives.
They will not be cowed, will not stop loving the life they have. It may not be perfect, in fact to others, it seems like suicide. But such worries have no place in their minds.
In this peace and solitude lived two ghoul mares, Star Storm and Blueberry Muffin.
This day in particular was a special day. Many years in the past, as the first of the megaspells had begun to detonate, Star and Blueberry had been reciting their wedding vows, swearing their eternal love to each other. And, as they kissed, one megaspell in particular had detonated in a building only a few blocks away. Both of them had blacked out, and when they awoke, they found themselves to be transformed. In the years that followed, they haven't forgotten what made their lives bright no matter what: Each other. Despite the destruction of society around them, they continued to live on. Through the years, they had steadily secured their own place in the wasteland, a small building protected by as many technological devices they could jury-rig, and hidden in an out of the way alley, in a secluded and empty street. Sometimes, mistakes happened, and one of them was injured, but they continued to keep each other standing, pledging to try their best to make each day better than the last.
Star’s job was to take in scrap metal and tins of paint. With these she carved her
namesake, hanging the finished pointed stars around the house, outside on the eaves. When the house became too full, she started setting them atop wooden stakes, metal prongs, and planting her stars in the earth. They may not have grown as flowers did in the old days, but their beauty gave something back to the dry, roasted earth.
Blueberry carried on her name too, but in a different way. Whenever traders
and caravans were brave enough to cross the area, she offered some of Star’s wares, and her own items. Pots full of compost filled every nook and cranny, used to grow what fruits she can, those rare strains that adapted to the wastes, radioactive plants that still contained the faintest trace of nutrition.
The Ghoul-iday started like many other days before it.
The sun battled to rise, lighting a desolate stretch of land, roads buried under years of dust, sand and rubble, even as it was blocked by the dense cloud cover that hung above. Stringy bushes were dotted here and there, tough and unappealing to most at first glance. The trees were warped, bent and twisted into strange shapes, yet still anxiously growing towards the sun.
War never changes, but those affected by it, whether self-aware or not, MUST, in order to continue in their lives.
A dust storm raked across the desert, clouds of stinging sand blinding any whose misfortune had left them caught outside. The stars jangled and tangled together outside the house, the horizon a rusty red.
"It will pass..." Star assured Berry, who looked up from her plants. Her mane, a little dry and stringy from the dusty air, curled around a kindly, open face.
Star had finished her latest project, one she had been working on in secret. She trotted slowly over and set it down in front of her partner.
This star was special, it was made of two halves. One was painted in Blueberry's colors of blue and green, the other Star's fiery orange and red. Towards the middle, the colors blended into one another, forming a heart at the center.
"Star..." Berry rubbed her eyes, heart aching in her chest. Her own movements were hampered just a little as she set aside her gardening tools and wrapped her forelegs around Star, rubbing her cheek against her own. "I love it!"
"It makes me happy to hear you say that," Star beamed, "where shall we hang it?"
"I know!" Berry smiled, her often tired eyes sparkling like they used to before the war. The reddish light seeping through the curtained off windows highlighted her face.
"Above our bed!" she declared.
Star nudged her beloved’s nose with her own. "of course, there's no better place!" she said warmly. Berry was happy with this, and abandoned her work to remain comfortably propped up against Star. A faint wail caught the wind, and both ponies’ ears perked up.
"Another is lost..." Star sighed.
"The storms are the worst," Berry agreed. "so little can be seen, and yet the ferals KNOW."
"They can smell them out there, through the dust."
"Can they smell us?" Berry asked, as she always did.
"No, my dear, our efforts and luck ensure they will not smell us, and the turret teaches them to stay clear."
"Good," Berry relaxed, reassured once more. Star pet her thinning mane gently, admiring how it still shone, in her eyes at least. The wasteland took from them both, but they still retained their light.
The storm soon died down, and they looked at each other, and nodded. If they left now, they'd reach the settlement in time to make their appointment. This day was special, it was a day to celebrate each other, and something that meaningful deserved a night in the town.
Even in the wasteland, spirits endured, old habits reignited. Bars and clubs sprung up, offering modified wasteland foods and home-made alcohol, even stims for those that craved an extra edge to their partying. Partytime Mint-als were in high demand, and caps were flying between customers and the vendors. The right amount could ensure an occasion that sparked old nostalgia in those that still remembered.
“I’d like a cup of the good stuff,” Star said, tossing a hooffull of bits at the robotic bartender. “and another one for my wife.”
“By the ‘good stuff’ I would assume you mean our special, the Fucking Mind-Wiper?” The robot asked, straight-faced.
The beverage was named by the first pony to taste-test it, who had immediately called out, “This stuff’s a fucking mind-wiper!” The poor pony had promptly passed out, and in the morning the name had proved apt: The pony had remembered nothing of the previous day.
For ghouls, on the other hoof, the beverage provided different effects. It contained a healthy (for ghouls) dose of radiation, making them glow slightly and become more energetic and happier.
Star and Blueberry sat at the bar, sipping their Fucking Mind-Wipers, smiling happily. “Do you remember?” Star asked. “When we first fell in love?”
Blueberry smiled. “I do indeed. We were at the opera, watching the performance, when suddenly we turned and looked at each other. And I said…”
“This is incredibly silly,” Star finished. “And I replied…”
“Isn’t that why we came here?”
“And then we both burst out laughing, in the middle of a particularly dramatic moment, and everybody just stared at us!” Star guffawed.
Blueberry giggled. “That was the moment when I first fell in love with you.”
“And I, you,” Star replied happily, nuzzling Blueberry’s face.
“And even when we died, we never lost our love,” Blueberry smiled, bringing her lips close to Star’s.
“You know what they say, Blueberry,” Star whispered, “True love never dies.”
With that, Star brought her lips to Blueberries, and they kissed.
Spring! Well, that is, if the Wasteland still has seasons. It's kind of an unsure thing, with those bird brains mucking up the clouds for two centuries, and all that.
Nevertheless... from time to time, trash has to be taken out, one way or another, and then it's time to do some serious Spring Cleaning!
It had taken a hundred and thirty years to get around to it, but it was finally time for Joy to clean her room. The zebra-ghoul filly looked down at the pip-buck fused to her left foreleg and sighed, she couldn't think of anything else to distract herself from the task at hoof. Yell indoors, done that. Play in the flowers, check. Explore the rest of Canterlot, got that shirt. She didn't like it though, clashed with her stripes. She racked her mind for something to do, anything. After a few moments, Joy gave up, she didn't have any paper or tape anyway.
Oh! She could find those!That would put off the dreaded cleaning for a little longer. Five minutes later, she had found the needed items and were ready to take down any ideas for things to do and tape them over the note about cleaning. . .
Any idea at all. . .
"UHG! This is so boring!" she shouted at no one in particular before shrugging and accepting her fate, "Well, I don't have anything else to do."
First, she surveyed the room; one of the walls had collapsed, her bed was in complete disarray, and toys were strewn about the floor. It was dusty, too. Real dusty.
She tried dusting with a rag she had dampened in the pink-tinged water outside, but gave up after a half hour of trying to clean the header. The next thing she did was cleaning up the rubble from the wall. That part was easy, just dump it out the hole. Toys went into the toy box, the bed was made, pictures in the hall straightened. Before she knew it, she had cleaned the entire house.
She looked around in pride at the house, which was as close to sparkling as it would come, and was about to take the note off her pip-buck when she heard voices coming from outside. Curious, she trotted over to a window and peaked out. Four ponies were outside, they weren't ghouls, just ponies. They were all wearing haz-mat suits and heavy-duty saddlebags and were fairly heavily armed. "Hey! It isn't safe here for non-ghoulies!" Joy yelled at them after hopping into the window. The ponies froze, staring at her. "What?" she asked after a seconds pause. No response. She was about to ask what they were doing when she saw a shotgun wrapped in an amber magic glow, "Ooo, a unicorn! Can I see some magic tri-"
BLAM! She fell backwards out of the window, her face mangled from the buckshot. After a few moments, the necromantic magic in her worked its . . . well, magic, and the damage was repaired. "Jerks," she muttered as she sat up, shaking her head. Before all the cobwebs had been cleared from her head, the door opened and the ponies trooped in. "Why'd you shoot me?"
The ponies whipped around at the sound of her voice. One of them turned to the unicorn, "I thought you killed the stripe!" he yelled in a gruff voice.
"So did I!" The unicorn, a mare, backpedaled slightly.
"Well you obviously didn't." Gruff Voice turned back to the filly, "I will." He started firing his battle-saddle mounted machine gun into Joy, emptying the magazine. "That's how you kill a rotter, Mercy," he said before turning away, "Spread out and take different rooms, there might be something valuable here." The ponies split up and started searching the house, leaving Joy's bullet-riddled body lying in the first room. A little while and a slurping sound later, Joy was back on her hooves. After shaking her head, she trotted into the kitchen in search of the ponies. When she entered the room, she saw the unicorn going through the fridge.
"Why can't there ever be any Sparkle-Cola?" Miss Unicorn asked out loud.
"I drank the last of it about fifty years ago." Miss Unicorn jumped and let out a cry of surprise, Joy sat down. "Can I see a magic trick? Please?"
Miss Unicorn stood there, staring at Joy and stammering, "How- What- You’re dead!"
"No, I'm not."
"Bu-but I shot you! And Storm shot you! You should be dead! You were dead!"
Joy tilted her head, "You mean waking up like that isn't normal?"
"NO!"
Joy scratched her chin with a cracked hoof, deep in thought. "Huh."
"Hey, Mercy, you ok-" one of the other ponies had come to see what the noise was about, and froze when he saw Joy. "Uh, Mercy, that thing was dead not two minutes ago."
"I know!" The unicorn said, panic edging in on her voice. She leveled her shotgun at Joy, ready to unload on the filly.
"Please don't shoot me, it's very disorientatening."
"Disorienting," the stallion corrected her.
"Yeah, that too." Joy looked at Miss Unicorn, the mare was shaking and struggling to keep a steady grip on the gun, "You ok, Miss Unicorn?"
"Oh, dear," said the stallion. "Would you mind going on? I'm afraid she might be having a nervous breakdown."
"Ok! Bye, Miss Unicorn!" With that, Joy went in search of the other two ponies. She found Gruff Voice in her room, going through her toys.
"Junk, junk and more junk," he muttered as he tossed toy after toy over his shoulder, "Where are your valuables, you striped scum."
"Hey, I just cleaned those up!" Joy yelled, in shock that he was going through her toys, and calling them junk.
Gruff Voice turned around, "I killed you," he said in a voice devoid of any emotion.
"Nope!"
"I shot you, and killed you."
"Yep! Nope!"
Gruff Voice sat there for a moment before getting up and trotting back to the rest of the ponies with Joy in tow, yelling, "Hey, Popper! How much explosives do you have?"
"Enough to take down half the block, why?" came the response.
"I want you to level this place, the striped rotter won't stay dead."
"What about the loot?"
"Forget the loot."
"Ok, will do." The pony the voice belonged to walked past Gruff Voice and Joy and into the filly's room.
When Gruff Voice and Joy entered the living room, he turned and pointed at her, "Sit." She sat. "Now stay there."
"Ok, hey, are you going to pick up the toys? Because I just cleaned the house and I really don't want to pick up my toys again."
"Yeah, sure. We'll pick them up." Gruff Voice said absentmindedly as he trotted into the kitchen. A moment later, he reappeared with Miss Unicorn and the stallion that had tried to comfort her. "You done yet, Popper?" He called as the pony trotted into the room.
"Yeah, and I used one of our bailfire eggs, just to be sure."
"Don't like to waste those, but no matter, let's get out of here." Gruff Voice turned to Joy, "Stay there, ok? We're going to be right back."
"Ok!"
Gruff Voice lead the three others out of the house. Two seconds later, Joy was headed to see the egg the pony left behind. As she entered her room, she saw some sticks of gray clay laying next to a green, egg-shaped rock. "Ooo, play-clay!" She said, then noticed a timer on the blocks, "Waitaminute, that's not play-clay." Her ears swivelled back as she realized what the blocks of clay were. "Oh, poop. . . RUN!" She scampered as quick as she could to the front door.
Just as she exited the house, the explosives detonate, the shock wave catching her and throwing her across the street.
She lay there for a moment before sitting up and shaking her head. Her jaw dropped when she saw the crater where her house used to be. She glanced between it and the note on her pip-buck several times before gesturing wildly at the crater and exclaiming, "How am I supposed to clean THAT up?"
Listen up young ones, and gather close. For today, I have a special story for you all. It is about the history of our tribe. Both how it was, and how it came to be as you all see it today. So pay close attention, and let me tell you about the great warrior Zenya, and why it is after the first rain of every year, we cast our gazes to the north across the barren sea. And why we still rebuild our village every year on the following day.
Long ago, on the outskirts of the of our great zebra tribe, sat a small ‘city’. It was so far away from the rest of our striped tribe in fact, that it shared itself with the colored ones. This ‘city’ as they called it, was built by a great sea of water, and the huts there were large and full of wonders beyond imagination. It is said, that even though there was great conflict between the colored ones and our people, this ‘city’ flourished and grew.
Then came the day of the great fire, when the sun itself cast down and cleansed the lands around us. It boiled away all the water from the great sea, and turned all the hills and valleys it gazed upon to ash. It even took away the frozen rains of winter, leaving only the warm, dry air all year in the fire’s wake. Though, our ancestors were smart. They knew that one day, the great fire would come to cleans the world. So before it came to pass, they built us the great tomb to live in for a short time.
It is there that both our kind and the colored ones took shelter during the great fire. And when the days of the great fire had passed, our people’s emerged from the tomb born again of these ashen and barren lands. However, even though the conflict had not been between our ancestors and the colored ones of the ‘city’, the colored ones decided to leave us and return to their own lands. As they left, they promised that one day they would return with more fantastic wonders to help our ancestors. Only, once they disappeared over the ashen hills, they were to never be seen again. Now, my children, we are all that is left in this ashen world. But, that is not the end of our story, only where it begins.
With the great 'city' unfit to survive in, our ancestors used its remains to build our village. They chose to build here, in the remains of the once great sea for the reason that it's soil was still fertile unlike the ashen hills around us. And for a time, there was peace in our survival.
However the dried sea that had once proved fertile enough, began to dry and crack. Not even our tools were able to turn the soil enough to grow much at all. Each year it became harder to grow what food our people needed to live, and our ancestors began to pray to the gods for a miracle. After that very winter had passed however, on the day after the first rain of the year, the iron beast came to answer our prayers.
The beast came from the north across the barren sea. It came billowing a great storm of black clouds and fire. Our ancestors attempted to bargain with the beast, unable to stop it from advancing across the open barren sea. They tried all manners of persuasion, yet none sated the beast. So the elders of our ancestors gathered up the tribe and as much of their belongings as they could, and took them back into the tomb, sealing it up yet again. Three days and nights passed before they opened the door. And when they did, something disastrously wondrous had happened.
The village they had built had been set to ruins. The great beast had destroyed every home without a single one spared, even selfishly taking some of the metal objects that our ancestors had used to build the village. Once it was sated with the destruction, it had again left to travel back across the barren sea. However, the beast did not just bear destruction to the village. For you see, the beast was a lumbering, terrible monster. The beast was so heavy, and it's feet so numerous, that the tracks it left churned and tilled the barren soil in it’s wake, creating a wide fertile plot in which to grow another year’s food in.
“I bet you I could take it on!” Young Zaki interrupted my story with his outburst. The other foals giggled at the young colt.
“Hush now little ones, and let me continue.” I childed before trying to remember where I had left the story.
The elders of our ancestors realized that the terrible beast had in fact answered their prayers. The metal it took from them was the tribute required for this wondrous act, and as such, was forgiven. Our ancestors rebuilt their village around the tracks that the great beast had left. And so they had lived for another year in peace and prosperity. Winter came, and winter left, and soon the first rains of the year came to pass as well. That is again when the great beast and it’s storm of fire appeared again from across the northern barren sea.
Again, they pleaded with the beast to stop. ‘There is no need for another miracle’ they called out to it, only for the beast to yet again ignore them. Understanding that the beast must be deaf to their cries, they knew that the could not stop what was to come. So, as they had before, our ancestors gathered up the villagers and their belongs. Again, they sought the safety of the great tomb, and sealed the door.
Another three days and nights passed before they opened the door. Again, they opened the door to find that their village had been destroyed, and more metal had been taken. Like the time before, the beast’s tracks had tilled the soil. It was then that our ancestors started to understand this cycle of destruction and renewal. It was soon named the great cleansing, and was taught to the young ones of then that it was something to be respected, rather than to be feared.
“Why didn’t our ancestors fight the beast off?” Zhi, my grand daughter asked, interrupting me for a second time.
“Because, my child, we were not a tribe of warriors.” I answered softly. “Now please, I know you have many questions, but I will ask you to be silent until the end of the story.” To this, I received many nods from the young ones.
Our ancestors learned that every year after the first rains had come, the beast would come from the barren sea to cleanse the village. Every time, they would have less to rebuild the village with, as the beast required it’s tribute. Our ancestors took what little more metal they could find from the great ruins of the ‘city’, but it was a meager amount. The elders had worried that eventually, our tribe would have so little left to rebuild, that they would have nowhere left to live. They ordered that we keep our population in check, as to make what little we had last for as many more winters as possible.
It was when I was but your age, little ones, that my sister and I had very little left that we could call our own. Only the heirloomed tools of our ancestors were our possessions, and a simple shack that fit the just the two of us. Zenya and I worked hard every day to tend to the land we had. Even though the two of us had very little to call our own, the one thing my sister never lacked, was an empty mind. In fact, she was always burdened with far too many wonderous ideas...
-----
“Zola, may I ask you something?” Zenya turned to me, her hooves still working the moist dirt to harvest the Ginseng roots we had grown that year. The sun was heading for the horizon, and nightfall would soon be upon us.
“Yes, Zenya?” I spoke through the basket I carried in my muzzle. I was far too young to work on the harvest, but after the planting of last fall, sickness had claimed our mother and father. So I worked just as hard as my sister to grow and harvest what we needed for the tribe.
“Do you ever think the elders are wrong about the great cleansing?” She asked, staring off across the Barren Sea. The great plume of smoke crackled with fire, even from the horizon. Today had been the first rain of the new year, and once we finished here, we would follow the tribe into the great tomb.
“No, Zenya.” I answered. It was unwise to question the wisdom of the elders. All we knew about the world, we learned from them because they were who had learned from the elders before them. The mysteries of the ancient world had been lost to the rest of us, and only they could decipher the odd writings of the colored ones.
“Do you not think it unfair?” Zenya asked as she pull up more roots. “The elders say that the beast is generous. That it gives us the soil in return for the metal we offer it.”
“Is that not true? Or how it has always been?” Setting the basket down, I looked at my sister in dismay. “Would you have us be greedy and risk enraging the beast? You know that greed is a poison that saps away all we as a tribe have left.”
“Zola, we have so little now that we can barely survive.” My sister pointed to our meager shack. Most likely come tomorrow, we wouldn’t have a place to live at all. “Those who brave the ‘city’ return with so little, still the beast claims more after every winter. Is it not greedy to take until our tribe has nothing more to give?”
“What do you propose?” I offered, diligent to get to my own task of harvesting our crop. “For more almost two hundred winters, our tribe has survived the cleansing of the village. We will continue to do so as long as we can.” I had some days wondered just why Zenya could not understand and be grateful for what we had, rather than wanting for more. “You have heard the stories. There is no other offering the beast will accept.”
“Then we offer it death.” Zenya spoke with such conviction that I was taken aback by it. “If it can till the soil, then in death, we can learn how it does this. We can use the legs to till, and any other pieces of it for the benefit of us all!”
“You cannot kill the beast!” I had little knowledge about if it were actually possible, rather, I did not wish for my sister to be slain by the beast in her foolishness. “We are not warriors, Zenya. We grow what we need and we are happy with that. The cleansing is something to be respected and enjoyed.”
“Well I cannot do either of those any more!” She spoke back with fire blazing in her eyes. I had never seen Zenya so stubborn before. She was a mare possessed, bent on an outrageous idea that things could change.
The chimes of gathering rang out across the air, halting my sisters rage. The beast had finally come over the horizon, and it was time for the villagers to head into the great tomb. Quickly, we gathered what crops we could into our baskets and prepared ourself to leave our humble home forever. Zenya however, took a moment to gaze upon the beast as it approached.
“Zenya, we must hurry.” I spoke, eager to join the others inside the great tomb.
For the time being, she had sought to listen to reason, and joined me. With our baskets weighed down with food, we were the last to reach the shelter. I remember the elder standing outside, waiting for us to enter so that he could seal the door. I prayed that Zenya would not be foolish enough to pursue her earlier thoughts, but she was more stubborn than any of our tribe.
“Elder, may I ask you something?” She spoke up.
“Perhaps inside, yes.” The elder spoke with a reverent tone, his clouded and unseeing eyes searching for Zenya before him. “Hurry now, into the great tomb, for the beast approaches.” He said, pointing up to the faded words above the great metal door that read Bomb Shelter. I had no idea what the strange glyphs meant, but that was why he was the elder. He had been taught the old ways, and we had not. “Only inside will we all be safe from the great cleansing.”
“Why not kill the beast?” Zenya asked with all the softness as the thin metal walls we had once used for our home.
The elder was not mad at the question as I had presumed he would have been. Instead, he only laughed for a moment. “My child,” He spoke softly, “the beast was said to have a skin of iron, crushing claws, and a heart made out of pure thunder. It has lasted longer than we have, so it must be eternal, young one. I am sorry, but the beast cannot be felled.”
“But I am sure that we should we try…” She began, only to be silenced by a crack of thunder from the beast’s storm as it approached.
“Young one, it is beyond your grasp to comprehend why our ancestors decided to continue the cleansing. But I do understand it.” The elder raised his voice as he spoke now. “You shall listen to me, for I have the wisdom granted by those before me to guide our tribe on the correct path. Now you may enter the tomb with the others, or stay to face the wrath of the beast. Make your choice now, for the door must be sealed in but a moment.”
Either a gift of madness or a favor from the gods, that was when when Zenya truly gained wisdom beyond her years.
“Then I will prove you wrong.” She spoke, dropping her basket and fleeing back towards the village.
“Zenya!” I cried out, wanting to stop her.
You see, young ones, I was burdened with a great choice. Either go inside and abandon my one and only sister to live with the others. Or, I could stay and bear witness to the true form of the beast before it took the lives of my sister and I with the unending fires it spat.
My young ones, you must never underestimate the bond that beckons you and your families together.
Casting down my baskets, I chased after my sister. The elder offered nothing more to say as he sealed us outside of the great tomb. At the time, it had seemed like our fates had been set, and that my sister and I would join the village as tribute to the great beast. However, as I had said, my sister was often burdened with wonderous ideas.
“Zenya, wait!” I cried out as we galloped back to our small home. I did not know what she had planned, but I was adamant that she was making a mistake. “Zenya, we have to seek shelter!”
“No, I can do this.” She muttered as she tossed out all of our farming tools. “We can kill the beast and free our tribe from it’s greed!” Throwing down our Heirloomed hoe, she snapped the old iron head off the shaft. It was then that she grabbed one of our other heirlooms in her fetlock and brought it up against the shaft. The faded writing on the blade was as worn as on the tomb, but mother had said that the elder translated Cosmic Knife to mean blade of the stars. Only a few had been gathered from the ‘city’ over the many winters, and it was one of our most prized possessions to survive the many cleansings we’ve had. Using what little rope we had as well, she took our one and only star blade and affixed it to the end of the shaft, forging a crude spear.
The crack of thunder from the approaching beast made the air itself tremble. I was afraid, more than I had ever been in my life. Yet, my sister only grew more determined. As I looked toward the beast, I finally gazed upon it’s true form.
Large and round, it looked like the biggest kettle you can imagine had been flipped upside down, and the iron skin it wore was blacker than the ashen hills surrounding the barren sea. It’s feet were like an endless stream of metal pouring over itself as it moved. Two massive horns sat perched upon the top of it, spewing fire and smoke high into the air. A pair of razor claws as big as the largest zebra hung from under the kettle bottom. Finally, set in the center of it was the heart, and indeed it was made of pure thunder. It shown with a brilliance akin to the sun, and arced lightning across it’s skin with great cracks that nearly shattered the air itself.
I remember my sister turning to me, not a single drop of fear in her vivid violet eyes.
“Zola, you must seek shelter.” She offered with a kind smile. One too kind for what she knew was to come of her battle. “No matter what happens, you must carry on for our family.”
“I cannot leave you!” I had whined, but deep down, I knew I could not stop her. “I do not want for you to die.” For as much as I had argued about greed, I was now the one who wanted more than any zebra who had ever lived.
With only a kiss to my forehead, and without another word, my sister left me. Spear clenched in her muzzle, she galloped head on toward the great beast. I wanted to do as she said, I had wanted to flee. However, if it were to be the last moments that I ever laid eyes on her, I wanted to see her fate with my own two eyes.
That night, as the sun hid below the western mountains, my sister met the beast in combat. The massive claws and heavy weight of the beast were no match for the speed of Zenya. Light on her hooves, she nearly danced around the cumbersome attacks the beast offered. Each swing she made with her spear, the beast roared and breathed gouts of fire from the twin horns. Each attack which landed, scouring only silvery lines across the dark black skin.
Then, with a great swing, one of the claws hit Zenya and tossed her through the air. I had remembered that moment being cold as I watched her tumble across the dirt and dust. The beast, though slow, had skin too thick for her. And though Zenya had been deterred, she would not relent. Rising to her hooves, she hefted the spear and charged the beast again.
I still to this day do not understand what possessed her with such strength of will. Our tribe had always been one of peace. None of us had known the ways of the warrior, nor the fury that Zenya held in her eyes that night. Still, my sister lept upon the beast with nothing left but the intent to end the tyranny it had held our tribe under. With a single downward stroke of her spear, she drove it into the blinding lightning heart, and tore it asunder completely.
The beast cracked like thunder all over, and great waves of fire washed over it from the now glowing horns. In these death throes, I lost sight of my sister. With a boom that rivaled only the ones on the day of great fire, the beast cleansed itself in a blinding ball of flame. In the final cleansing, I was burned across my body and thrown to the dirt in agony.
The tribe had heard the roar from inside the great tomb, and the elder had unsealed the door at great risk. However, they found me still clinging to life near the burning carcase of the once feared beast. Though injured, I had lived through the terrifying encounter. However, my sister had not.
Still clinging to what remained of the spear, she had perished in the final cleansing the beast gave. The village mourned her passing with great wailing cries, offering prayers to help usher her spirit into the ever after beyond the ashen hills. Her charred body and spear were carried far into the great tomb to be laid to rest with our ancestors, and an offering by the tribe was set by her side.
However, as the days went on, and the corpse of the beast was stripped for all that was useful, the wisdom of my sister had shown to be true. The many feet of the beast formed much better plows than we had used for generations. Other parts of the corpse helped to gather more water, while others helped to cook our food. Overnight, we went from having little to share between us, to more available to take than each of us could ever have dreamed of. Zenya was a hero to us all, and will be remembered as such for all time.
Though the beast had been felled, the tribe felt it still needed to be honored for what it had given us over the years. The day after the first rain, the elder ordered each and every home to be dismantled and rebuilt again to appease the spirit of the great beast, lest it return again another year.
As much as her death weighed heavily on my soul in the following moons, I only found myself filled with laughter. The tribe said I must have gone mad that night, an illness caused by the beast when it was felled. However, I laughed not out of madness, but joy. My sister had the wisdom to challenge what our tribe thought was fate, and she had won. With the beast felled, our tribe could now prosper and grow as it once had after the time of the great fire. And for a time, that made me happy.
However, after the next winter had passed, and the first day of rain came for us. I looked out on the horizon and waited for another beast to come for us. I longed for another beast to approach, to threaten us again so that perhaps my sister might return to us yet again. That night I fell very ill, and the elder had told me I had almost fallen into the eternal sleep.
But what happened that night was no illness, but a miracle in disguise. For that night I met my sister again in my dreams. She told me that I needed to be strong for her. For there were yet other beasts to slay out across the barren sea, and far beyond the ashen hills. That we were not alone in the ashen world, and that one day, she would return clad in the skin of these beasts to lead the colored ones back to us like they had promised so long ago. The next day, I had told the elder of what I had foreseen in my dreams, and he too agreed that it must be a divine prophecy.
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“It has been many winters since then,” I spoke out at the crowd of wide eyed little ones around me. “but this is why still tonight, the night after the first rain, we as a tribe look out to the north. We are watching and waiting for one of two things. Either for a great storm clouded beast to come for us across the barren sea. Or, for the foretold return of Zenya, the savior of our tribe.”
“It is not real.” Zayana, the oldest of the mares scoffed. “It is just a story they tell to keep us afraid of leaving.” She may be strong headed, but she carried a spirit like my sister had inside, even if she didn’t believe it. “There are no beasts out there at all. We would see them!”
“If Zola said it happened, then it did!” Zhi answered Zayana with a sharp shout that only served to rile up the others.
“Now, now.” I ordered out, calling the young ones to quick attention. “If it is one thing that the both of you understand about this lesson, is that both of you are correct.”
“I do not understand.” Zhi looked at me with eyes as clouded as mine had been all those many winters ago.
“Zenya had the wisdom to question what she was told. She understood that a renewal of the mind is just as important as the renewal of the soil we grow in every year. It is the responsibility of each and every one of you to continue to question things on this day more than any other.” I had done my best to teach the tribe this lesson every day since the old elder passed on many winters ago. I may not have had the gift to act as Zenya had against the beast, but I too only wanted our tribe to grow to be more than we are.
The quick hoofsteps outside of my home drew a gasp from the young ones. Zuri, my son, entered with sweat beading from his brow and a smile across his face. I was concerned, and quickly made sure to hush the young ones from interrupting whatever news he brought.
“Mother, it has happened!” He shouted, nearly unable to hold in his excitement. “Come, come! You must see it!”
Without another word, he turned and tore away from my home. The excitement for whatever he spoke of spread like fire among the young ones. Each of them got to their hooves and galloped out after him, leaving me to my own pace as I stood up. My legs had grown feeble over the years, and the old burns across my body make it painful to even walk across the village anymore. However, the excitement had sparked from him into me as well. I felt my soul itself pull me forward and out of the great iron cauldron that I both called my home, and had once been the outer shell of the great beast.
Stepping outside, I felt my very breath draw from me. There, clothed in red and silver painted iron skins of the beast, stood five outsiders. One of them stepped forward, removing the iron mask they wore to reveal the striped face of a zebra mare underneath.
“Not good with old language.” The mare spoke slowly, bowing reverently to me. “But we come in peace. From place far named N.C.R.” As she spoke, all I could see was my sister in this mare. Her purple eyes did not hold the same fire as Zenya, but they were just as strong and determined. “We come to help.”
With that, the other iron clad warriors removed their helmets, revealing the colored ones of old. Upon gazing at them, I broke down and wept with joy. It must have greatly confused the outsiders, however I had never dreamed to see this day. Two hundred and twenty winters our tribe had survived, nearly fifty since Zenya had saved us all. I still could not claim to be as strong as Zenya ever was, but I had proven that I had the strength to do as she asked.
Our tribe had survived the great cleansings of so long ago, only to be free’d of them by my sister. Now, with the incarnation of her return, it is time for a new cleansing. Different than the ones of old, instead, this was to be a renewal of ourselves as a tribe. Tonight, I can finally return to my own family in peace, knowing that my sister may now rest easy on the ever after with a new day tomorrow for those she left behind.
I know not what tomorrow’s renewal holds for our future, as the outsider’s have much to teach and share with us. However, of one thing I am sure. Our future is to be a story for another time, and from another elder. With my vision having come to pass, tomorrow I must make my own son the elder of our tribe. I have taught him all that I was taught, and it is time that I returned to the great tomb of our ancestors and joined them on their great journey beyond the ashen hills.
I am not afraid to die, for death is just another part in the cycle of renewal. And while I may be gone, our tribe will continue to grow stronger through each new year's renewal. Zenya knew this better than any of us, and I know that she waits for me to the north, just beyond the ashen hills.
