//------------------------------// // Episode 08: Desert Rider // Story: Bulletproof Heart // by PaulAsaran //------------------------------// 36th of Falling Heat, 1005 BA Rarity gazed upon a curious sight. At the bottom of the hill was a tent and assorted items, clearly used recently if the disturbed sand and dirt were anything to go by. She’d stumbled upon a camp, and yet said camp appeared deserted. What made the sight the most strange was the… thing sitting beside the tent. She couldn’t tell what it was from this distance save that it had two wheels and was made from metal. Wiping three days’ worth of sweat from her brow, Rarity wondered about the nature of her find. She cast her gaze about the landscape, from the yellow and white desert in the north to the Dragon’s Teeth looming over her in the south. There was not a soul in sight, but given that the landscape was nothing but rocky, barren hills this came as no surprise. She doubted she was dealing with any bandits, for the tent couldn’t have held more than two ponies, but she still felt the need to be wary. Go around or investigate? It was possible the owner was still nearby, and she didn’t want them to find her snooping around and think her a thief. Then again, it could be the owners were themselves victims of something, and going around might just lead her straight to said something. “Damned if I do,” she muttered under her breath. A hot wind blew in from the north, forcing her to push her mane from her face. She realized the decision was moot. If anyone was here and interested in the camp, they almost certainly had spotted her by now. And if they had nefarious intentions, they’d come at her one way or another. Better to deal with the situation and be done with it. With her mind made up, she started down the hill. Upon reaching the bottom, she called out at what she hoped was a volume that wouldn’t carry over the surroundings hills. “Hello? I hope I’m not arriving at a bad time.” No answer. She didn’t know whether that was a good sign or not. She kept her ears perked, but that did nothing to protect her from the sinking feeling in her stomach. She approached the tent slowly, hands raised. “I’m not here to cause any trouble. I’m just passing through.” She paused at the closed tent flap. “Is anypony in there?” After a few quiet seconds of nothing but wind, Rarity lowered her hands. It seems there’s nopony here. She considered investigating the tent, but decided against it. If somepony was still around, perhaps having left the area for a bit, then she didn’t want them coming back to find her rifling through their belongings. There was no getting out of investigating the machine, though. She walked over to study it, quickly coming to the conclusion that it was beyond Equestrian. The device was crafted largely of metal pieces, appearing smooth and sleek. It stood on two wheels, its balance maintained by a small stand connected to its side. It possessed two… chairs? Yes, chairs, one behind the other, and before them were bars that appeared to connect directly to the front wheel. And what strange wheels they were! They were thick, heavy looking things with spokes made from a kind of metal she didn’t recognize. Thick plates covered the outer edge of each wheel. Above those, where the strange bars and the front of the machine came together, sat a circular apparatus in which a large, blue-glowing diamond rested. A closer look revealed little spikes and dimples within the apparatus, which Rarity easily recognized as some sort of magical equipment. “How queer.” She stepped back to the side of the thing and observed a large metal… something… beneath the seats. A mess of tubes, wires, and plates. She couldn’t imagine what it might be. She was tempted to touch it, but at the same time feared it would react to her in some horrible way. Her eyes drifted to the large number of bags hanging from the backside of the device. “Maybe it’s used for transportation?” A shadow flitted by. Some sort of bird? She looked into the sky, wondering what one would be doing way out— A shriek left her lips as something large and turquoise shot straight for her! Rarity had just enough time to register that it was a pony before leaping backwards. A curved cavalry sword whistled through the air so close she thought she could feel the wind of its passing over her muzzle. Her eyes met the orange gaze of her assailant for but an instant, and then the pony was off, a streak of lightning in her wake. Rarity landed hard on her rump, but wasted no time jumping to her hooves. The pegasus, sporting a light brown jacket, was circling around for another attack. Gritting her teeth, Rarity pulled Silver Lining from her holster and took aim. She remembered Cranky’s advice and tried to aim ahead of the pony’s flight, but the pegasus bobbed and weaved through the air. Not sure if she could hit such a fast target, she nonetheless pulled the trigger. She was rewarded with a quiet click. Heart slamming into her throat, Rarity checked the gun and realized that, like a fool, she’d left the safety on. She grit her teeth, fixed the problem, took—“Whoa!” The pegasus was right there! Silver Lining fired early and Rarity’s eyes went wide at the sword slicing for her face. At the last moment she twisted her body, the blade flashing past and leaving a nick on her ear that tingled. Her balance upended once again, she wobbled and did a small dance to keep on her hooves even as she tried to keep track of the enemy. Something blue leapt out from behind the tent, another pony. Mane and tail dyed with all the colors of the rainbow, the newcomer leveled a break action, sawed off double-barreled shotgun at Rarity’s chest. With a yelp, she let her legs go limp and dropped to the ground as buckshot tore through the air where she’d been standing. Ears ringing from the blast, she brought Silver Lining up and fired, but the blue pony was already back behind the tent. “Why are so many creatures trying to kill me lately?” Outnumbered and fearing there might be even more bandits out there, Rarity rolled to her hooves and pulled out Ruby Heart. A haughty voice in the back of her head started lecturing her about using bullets she couldn’t afford to waste, but she silenced it with a growl. The turquoise pegasus was coming in for another pass and Rarity had no intention of wasting bullets. With no time to aim, she instead dove behind the machine just as the pegasus reached her. The sword, now coated in electric energy, stabbed at the air around her hiding place, but missed by inches. Rarity rose, aimed Silver Lining, then ducked again as the blue pony appeared once more to fire a shot, peppering the machine with lead that rang noisily against the metal. She tried to rise, only to find the shotgun still aimed her way, and dropped to a second shot. Rarity came to some rapid conclusions, most prominent being that the blue pony could only fire two shots at most, if she didn’t fire both barrels at once. And if they were alternating then… She whipped around and fired Silver Lining and Ruby Heart in unison. The pegasus, in the middle of an attack run, cursed and barrel-rolled away. Her left hand tingled from the kick of the Ruby Heart. Sweet Sisters, that thing feels powerful! Wasting no time, she jumped sideways and spun, Ruby Heart firing on the blue pony just as she started to emerge from the behind the tent. The pony yelped and jumped back with a flap of… wings? She was a pegasus too? So why wasn’t she flying like— “Confound it!” She turned to the sound of flapping on her right and fired, the turquoise pegasus spinning away once again. So much for not wasting bullets. “I don’t want to kill you, so stop it!” She leapt back to the safety of the machine just as the shotgun fired, wincing at the sensation of something biting into her leg. But only a bite, so it had probably been only a close call. Rarity had had enough. She broke into a run, circled around the machine and headed for the side of the tent opposite where the blue pony had been emerging. “Rainbow, look out! Left, left!” The flier’s warning served the both of them, and Rarity slid to a stop before reaching the corner. The shotgun let loose its second payload, ripping holes in the fabric right in front of her. Grimacing, she pointed both guns at the tent in a guess and fired at a wide angle. She was rewarded with a cry, but couldn’t tell if she’d hit or had merely surprised her opponent. Not wanting to take any chances, she hurried around the corner and caught the blue pegasus retreating with startling speed despite being on her hooves. She took aim and— Wait, did that pony only have one wing? A shadow passed over her. She dodged to the left. Pain burst in her side, accompanied by a brief electric shock that made her hair stand on end. It was enough to make her cry out and lose her balance. She hit the ground, but kept Silver Lining up to follow the pegasus’s retreat. One shot, but the accursed creature had already whipped away from where she’d aimed. Running on pure adrenaline, Rarity sat up and aimed Silver Lining once more at the blue pegasus, who was just starting to lower the barrel of her shotgun. Not fast enough: Rarity pulled the trigger. Only to hear a click. The blue pony grinned. Heart leaping into her throat, knowing she couldn’t possibly dodge in her position, Rarity did the first thing that came to mind. Her horn lit up, firing off a small burst of telekinesis that nudged the barrel of the shotgun sideways. The gun fired explosively from both barrels, unleashing its payload on the tent. “Luna damn it!” The pegasus dove out of the way before Rarity could get the Ruby Heart aimed. Knowing she might have only seconds, she rolled sideways and onto her hooves. Her eyes went up to find the turquoise pegasus dropping down from almost right above her. There was no time to aim, no time to dodge, no time for anything but— The pony slammed hooves first into Rarity’s chest, sending her sprawling and tingling electric energy up and down her body. Focusing through the pain and the world flying past, Rarity grasped the sword in her magic just in time to stop its swing from slicing her throat. The two landed in the dirt, Rarity on her back and the pegasus kneeling on her chest, the sword shaking in their combined physical and magical grasps. “Geez, what does it take to kill you?” The pegasus snarled, fighting with both hands to overwhelm Rarity’s magic. “What does it take to not have ponies want to kill me?” she retorted with equal venom. She let go of Silver Lining to grasp the mare’s wrist, ignoring the tingling shock of the pegasus’s magic, then brought the Ruby Heart up over the pony’s arms. She pressed the barrel against the side of her opponent’s face, but the mare twisted her neck just as the gun fired. Yelping, the pegasus flapped her wings and flew backwards, a red line on her cheek. Rarity leaned up, tracking the mare’s retreat through the sights— “Bye-bye, babe.” Rarity’s world almost seemed to go still. She could see the blue pony out the corner of her eye, not four feet away and with the shotgun already leveled. Panic swelled within her. She tried to move, tried to light her horn, but knew that she’d never be fast enough this time. Her entire world became those two barrels and the metal death they were ready to unleash. A snap filled the air, and the barrel shot sideways as something cracked against the blue pony’s arm. The gun roared, but the buckshot flew well over Rarity’s shoulder. Rarity hissed, the expected pain not coming. She didn’t realize the Ruby Heart was moving towards her foe. The bandit did, though, and leapt away just in time to avoid a ruby-tipped bullet to the chest. She got it on the shoulder instead, the impact twirling her sideways. Somehow the mare managed to catch herself and stay standing. The instant she had her balance, a golden coated pegasus rammed into her shoulder first, sending her sprawling. “W-what?” Rarity felt her jaw drop at the newcomer. Her gun remained aimed, but she couldn’t pull the trigger. She was having trouble even thinking beyond the awareness that she was still alive. The pony could have shot her ten times before she’d even begun to remember that she was supposed to be in a fight. Fortunately, the newcomer had other plans. A long black whip in one hand and a small pistol in the other, she dodged an incoming strike from the turquoise pegasus. In one smooth motion, she turned and snapped the whip. White energy crackled up the thin wire like electricity, and where the tip fell short of catching the target a burst of pale light radiated like a wave in water. It caught up with the pegasus, who cried out as she started to wobble and fall. The newcomer took aim with her pistol and fired, but the pegasus recovered and caught air in time to avoid the trap, dodging the bullet with a roll. “Impressive,” the golden mare muttered. She glanced back at Rarity, expression serious. “Oi, you gonna lay there or make yourself useful?” She launched in time to avoid a shot from the blue pegasus’s shotgun. Snapping out of her stupor, Rarity snatched Silver Lining from the ground and checked its cylinder. Empty. She saw her grounded opponent rapidly adding shells to her shotgun and fired a shot from Ruby Heart. The pony abandoned her shells and dove out of the way just in time. Keeping the gun aimed and moving for the machine to use as cover, Rarity magically fumbled with the release mechanism on Silver Lining. “Come on, it shouldn’t be any harder than using your hands!” But she couldn’t concentrate on the small lever properly while trying to aim Ruby Heart and keep an eye for the turquoise pegasus. She ducked behind the machine as a spray of lead flew by. “Oh, why is this so much harder than multitasking sewing? I used to divide my attention all the time!” She thrust Ruby Heart into its holster and resorted to using her hands, only now realizing how they were shaking. The gunshots and crackling whips and shouts faded as Rarity was hit with a strange moment of clarity. Her heart was pounding, sweat poured down her back, her breathing came in short gasps. Aches ran across her body, and there was blood on her shirt. As she stared at her trembling hands, she realized: I’m scared to death. Why did I not even notice it before? Was she getting used to it? Was that something to be proud of? She didn’t think so. It struck her that bravery was a stupid, stupid thing. But here she was, in the middle of nowhere in a free-for-all with three pegasi for no reason that she could think of other than being at the wrong place at the wrong time. And what for? Because she’d wanted her fate to be decided on her own terms. Maybe she should have taken up Spike’s offer after all. A shadow passed overhead. Another. The world began to move once more, and a fresh cylinder snapped into Silver Lining. She was afraid, yes, but she would have to address the matter later. For now? Stay alive. Her horn sparked as she attempted a spell she’d never tried before. Yellow, Creation, thrown together at a sloppy pace and entirely on instinct. It might save her life, or it might do nothing at all. There was no time to test. Rising up, she turned and found the blue pegasus practically on top of her. She cast the spell in a flash, her shield rising up right when the pony unleashed a double-barreled blast of hot metal at her face. The spell popped instantly, sending jolts of fire through Rarity’s horn and making her stumble back, but it served its purpose. Silver Lining came up, and the blue pegasus’s face paled. Then she dodged the first shot, sprinting sideways with a speed that was astounding. Rarity fired another shot, and another, and another, but the blue mare somehow avoided each one before disappearing behind the tent. “By the Sun, I can’t hit anything today!” “Lookout, kid!” Ears perking to the warning, she spun and found the turquoise pegasus coming at her in a shallow dive, tailed by the newcomer. Unable to fire for fear of hitting her presumed ally, Rarity threw herself onto her belly, just escaping a swipe of the pegasus’s electrified sword. “Nice dodge!” The newcomer gave her a salute as she darted past. “Shotgun’s on your right.” Sure enough, the blue pegasus was running up from the tent already. Knowing she didn’t have another shield in her and not sure she could recreate it if she tried anyway, Rarity did the next thing that came to mind. The moment the shotgun was aimed, she struck it with another blast of telekinesis. Adrenaline and fear made her put more into the strike than last time, forcing the gun’s aim far to the pony’s left and up before the trigger was pulled. The pegasus grimaced, her eyes darting in the direction of the shot. Then she did a double take, her eyes going wide. “No!” Rarity looked over the machine and felt her heart stop. The turquoise pegasus was going down, coat covered in blood. There was no scream, no call of alarm, no attempt to halt her descent. She just fell, body limp and tumbling. She hit the ground near the top of a hill, hard, and was still. “Lightning!” The pegasus dropped her gun and ran for her downed companion. And it was over. Rarity watched her former opponent go, a sense of numbness coming over her at the sight. Her breathing gradually slowed, but her heart didn’t stop its mad hammering. She wobbled from side to side, then collapsed in the dirt on her rump. She raised Silver Lining, checking the cylinder on autopilot. One bullet left. She could have shot. Taken down the blue pegasus while she was still shocked by her friend’s fall. Why did that thought cross her mind? Her stomach roiled. Something vile wanted to come up, and she took slow, steadying breaths to stop it. “I am not a killer,” she whispered. “I am not a killer.” Slowly, struggling with the trembling of her hands, she put Silver Lining back in its holster. “You alright, kid?” Rarity looked up slowly. There was the golden pegasus, body covered in moisture and eyes narrowed with concern. She wore a sweat-stained white shirt beneath a green jacket and loose khaki pants. The whip was rolled up and set to her hip, the gun nowhere to be seen. She held a hand out to Rarity. “Sorry you got caught up in that. I thought you might be a bounty hunter, so I hid. Didn’t know you were being hunted too.” Trying and failing to control her shaking, Rarity took the mare’s hand and allowed herself to be hauled to her hooves. She stumbled, almost fell again, but the pony steadied her with a hand to the shoulder. “W-what…” She looked to the top of the hill, where the blue pegasus was kneeling beside the body. “What happened to her?” “You didn’t notice?” At Rarity’s stare, she frowned. “Friendly fire. Pretty sure she was dead before she even knew what happened.” “Oh.” This thought swam through Rarity’s brain before properly connecting. Her heart sank. “Oh. Oh, oh, oh…” Hands raised to her head, she gazed back up the hill. Her eyes began to burn. “This is my fault. I did it again. Are… are ponies just going to keep dying around me from now on?” The mare raised an eyebrow. “What are you complaining about? Correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m pretty sure those two were out to kill you.” “That’s beside the point! I am not a killer.” She started for the hill. “I h-have to apologize. I have to—” “I don’t think you wanna do that.” The mare pulled her back by the shoulders. “You really wanna go talk to her when she just lost her friend? She might come unglued. In fact, I suggest we book it out of here right now, before we find out they had backup.” Rarity stared at the pony, uncomprehending, awkward, lost. After a moment of studying Rarity, the mare smiled and offered her hand. “A.K. Yearling, at your service. And you are?” Slowly, Rarity took the offered hand and let it be pumped up and down. Her eyes returned to the hill. “R-Rarity Belle. Are you sure we shouldn’t…?” “Ai-yai-yai, you’re really not used to this kind of thing, are you?” Not letting go of Rarity’s hand, Yearling dragged her back towards the small camp. “Come on. I’m leaving, and you’re coming with me.” “But… but…” “No buts.” “O-okay.” She brought Rarity beside the machine and made her lean against it. Digging through one of the pouches on the back, Yearling pulled out a water jug and shoved it into her hands. “Drink, take a moment to clear your head. Lemme just grab a few things and we’ll go.” Rarity stared at the jug in her hands, unable to raise it to her lips. The scene replayed in her mind, the way she struck the shotgun with her telekinesis, how it fired to the side and up. The shock in the pony’s eyes, the way she started running. If Rarity had used just a little less force, might the other pony be alive right now? Would it have mattered? Yearling was right, they were trying to kill her. She shouldn’t feel so terrible about this. But she did. She felt miserable, as if the Royal Sisters themselves were watching her every move and silently judging her. She hated this feeling, this sense that the world had gone crazy and only she knew it. Every time she got into a fight, ponies died and things got a little bit more insane by virtue of ponies telling her that was okay. It wasn’t okay. How could it be okay? In what sane world was it ‘okay’ to have murdered another pony? She didn’t want it to be okay! “B-but it’s okay,” she whispered. “It’s… It’s okay.” If she said it enough times, thought it, would that make it true? The idea made her shudder. “I should have taken Spike up on his offer.” Wrapping her arms around herself, she fought back the rising tide that threatened to escape. Slow, steady breaths kept the breakdown from happening, but only barely. She could feel it lingering, just waiting for her defense to slip. She couldn’t think about it. If she thought about it… Yearling was at her side, the blue pony’s shotgun slung over her shoulder and Rarity’s hat in her free hand. “Hey, you still with me?” Rarity couldn’t meet her gaze. Talking proved just as impossible. She looked towards the pegasi on the hill. The blue one hadn’t moved from where she’d knelt. Shouldn’t Rarity say something to her? “Nope, don’t even think about it.” Yearling snapped her fingers before tying the shotgun to the backside of the machine. “Move.” Responding to the gentle shove, Rarity stood up and stepped away from the machine. She watched in solemn uncertainty as Yearling lifted her leg high to straddle the device as if it were a small sand lizard. Her reeling mind threw in a quiet note that, yes, the thing really was meant for travel. Yearling wrapped her fingers around one of the bars before twisting to face Rarity and patting the seat behind her. Rarity stared at the seat, gradually coming to recognize the pony’s intention. “B-but I don’t have…” She glanced at how Yearling held the bars. “Those things.” Yearling shrugged. “So hold on to me.” That seemed so very improper, and Rarity was tempted to refuse, yet she found she didn’t have the energy to argue. She cast one last look at the blue pony on the hill. It appeared as though she was doing something with her deceased friend’s body. As she watched, Rarity realized that as much as she wanted to apologize, she wanted to get away from… this far more. So, with a quiet whimper, she carefully mounted the machine, feeling awkward in the back seat. The rest only reached to the small of her back, forcing her to lean forward for fear of falling off. Cautiously, she set her hands on Yearling’s shoulders. “Yeah, that’ll work if you’re eager to fall off when I get going.” Yearling grabbed Rarity’s hands and pulled them down to her waist. It was slim enough to make Rarity self-conscious, and she doubted the extra heat on her cheeks had anything to do with the sun beating down. “Don’t be so nervous, it’s just for safety. Here.” She offered Rarity her hat. “You’re going to want to secure that, or put it between us.” Not sure what the mare was talking about, Rarity accepted it, only to realize there was something inside. She pulled out a pair of earplugs. “Good to have those for first time riders. It gets loud.” At Rarity’s blank stare, Yearling rolled her eyes and turned forward. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Feeling more anxious about this entire endeavor by the minute, Rarity nonetheless twisted the earplugs and slipped them in. Not a second later, the machine beneath her gave a roar like a wild beast! Crying out, she wrapped her arms around Yearling, crushing her hat between them. “W-what the hay?” She had to shout to hear herself between the racket and the earplugs. “Hang on tight, little filly!” And then the device moved. Yearling referred to it as a ‘motorcycle,’ which Rarity supposed was a rather fitting name. It ran on a steam engine made much more powerful via magical gems, though Rarity’s brain had lost most of the details. She sat, arms around her knees, and stared at the machine from the opposite side of a small vase-shaped device with a faintly glowing ruby set on top, emitting a steady heat to keep away the chill of a desert night. For that was where they were: the Great Salt Plains. Nothing but yellow sand dunes and white salt flats as far as the eye could see, and a pale crescent moon surrounded by endless stars. A cold wind blew from the north, whipping up sand and sending her mane into her face. She pushed it back with a delicate finger, eyes shifting to her new companion. Yearling was busy setting up a tent. Apparently she’d grown used to losing them, for she had another two spares aside from that one. Rarity had spent much of the ‘ride’ in a daze. The death of the turquoise pony sat heavy on her mind. Coupled with her combined awe and fear of the motorcycle itself, she’d been in no position to pay attention to where they’d been going. Only after several hours, in the orange light of sundown, did she realize they’d been travelling north. Why north? There was nothing out here but desert for thousands of miles. On the other side was the Bowl of Equestria, Rarity’s home, but to go straight across the Great Salt Plains to get there was suicide. Not even a motorcycle, which Rarity guessed could outrun a dust devil with ease, would be fast enough to pull off such a journey before starvation did its work. The tent was complete, and Yearling went to her vehicle to rummage through one of the metal containers on its side. “It’s a good thing this stuff is more solid than iron, y’know? It took a lot of punishment today, what with you kids shooting it up.” For the first time in a while, Rarity found the will necessary to ask a question. “Where did it come from?” “Found it in some ruins deep in the Sunpeaks,” Yearling replied, a hint of pride in her voice. “I think it was made by Diamond Dogs. Thing’s gotta be at least a thousand years old.” She pulled out a triangular device, which unfolded to become a tripod. Setting that down over the heating vase, she proceeded to grab two small tin cans and place them on the stand. Rarity tilted her head. “Why were you in the Sunpeaks?” “Uh, looking for ruins?” Yearling replied as if the answer were obvious. “I found evidence that the ancient Diamond Dog kingdom of Beagland was there, and I just had to take a look.” She squatted, elbows on her knees, and watched the cans as if they might do some interesting trick in a few seconds. “Found what I think was a town. Neat stuff.” “Oh.” Rarity waited for her to go on. When she didn’t, “So you’re… an explorer?” A long, slow sigh. “The word,” Yearling grumbled, “is archaeologist.” “Oh,” Rarity said again. She couldn’t think of much else to add to that, so she elected to steer the conversation to more familiar territory. “And, um, what were you doing at the Dragon’s Teeth?” Yearling smirked, her eyes not leaving the cans. “Getting set to go on my next big adventure, of course.” Her expression fell a moment later. “I was gonna leave in the morning, but you and those bounty hunters accelerated my plans. What were they after you for, anyway?” It was tempting to ask what made Yearling think they were there for Rarity specifically, but she held her tongue; they probably were. Instead, she thought of Braeburn. “I have a bounty on my head.” “Uh, yeah? That’s kinda why bounty hunters go after somepony.” The flippant retort brought something boiling up, and it came out of Rarity’s mouth before she could stop it. “Well, excuse me if I had to murder somepony in self-defense! And excuse me if it was either that or have my dignity and marehood stolen by some jerk with no appreciation for the trouble his actions cause others! And excuse me if my life is ruined and I’m running all over Equestria trying to find a place where the stupid Apple Family can’t find me and hunt me down as if I were some common criminal!” Yearling stared. Rarity turned her glare away with a sniff. She was crying, confound it all! Letting it all out like that had been a mistake. She didn’t know if she could trust this pony. She felt as if she might scream at any moment, but she sucked air in through gritting teeth and pushed the demon down. Thinking about Braeburn wouldn’t solve anything. She had to maintain control of her emotions. “Woah. You’ve got the Apple Family after you?” Yearling whistled, a long, somber note. “No wonder those ponies wanted you. That’s a serious price tag right there.” Rarity shot her a grimace. “Is that all I am to anypony, now? A giant bag of bits?” “Hey, it’s okay to be angry. Afraid is good too.” Yearling reached out to tap her fingers on the top of the cans. Apparently satisfied, she pulled one off the tripod stand and used the thumb handle to pop off the top. The sharp scent of baked beans filled the air, and she offered the can to Rarity. Once it had been taken in her magic, Yearling promptly retrieved her own can before tossing a spoon for Rarity to catch. She almost didn’t. Not realizing her own hunger, Rarity took a few bites. The sweet glaze and soft texture were heavenly on her tongue, and already she felt her frayed nerves settling. “Th-thanks. I… I am afraid. Very much so. I’m supposed to be making dresses, not distributing lead across half the continent.” The conversation lapsed into silence. Rarity’s mind drifted from her lukewarm beans. Gradually, it shifted to the blue mare they’d left behind. Only one wing. What would that kind of thing mean to a pegasus? To be forever stuck on the ground. She’d not met very many pegasi in her life, but she knew enough to understand that they were a proud race of ponies. What terrible thing could have happened to that mare, to force her to live down here and hunt other ponies for a living? Her gaze rose to Yearling, who seemed preoccupied with her own thoughts. Now that Rarity paid attention, why was this new companion of hers wandering Equestria on a motorcycle? She had two perfectly good wings. If her ability to keep up with that turquoise pegasus was any indication, she also knew how to use them. And most pegasi didn’t care for trotting in the dirt, but Yearling was an archaeologist? Rarity had the feeling there was a story here, but there were other, more pressing matters to fret over. And on that thought… “Why did you bring me with you?” Yearling blinked, swallowed her latest spoonful of beans, and looked up. “Huh?” Turning her gaze to the motorcycle and its fresh scratches, Rarity pressed the query. “You don’t know me. I could be anypony. A bandit, a gang member, a bounty hunter, a bumbling fashionista. Even ignoring all of that, you had no reason to take me with you.” She hunched her shoulders. “N-not that I don’t appreciate the company. I just… I don’t understand what possessed you to do it.” It was a few seconds before Yearling responded, her frowning expression thoughtful. “You care.” When Rarity turned to her, she elaborated. “If you’re a bounty hunter, you’re a crappy one. Bounty hunters, bandits, those types? They don’t care about the ponies they kill.” She pointed at Rarity with her spoon. “When that pegasus bit it back there, you had a meltdown. They were trying to kill you and still you acted as if your best friend just ate dirt.” She paused long enough to take another bite of beans, her spoon scraping loudly against the can. While she chewed, her entire disposition changed. Her ears folded back, her shoulders slumped. Her features softened as her eyes focused on something beyond the heating vase. “I remember what that was like. I remember fighting for my life, getting out alive, and feeling nothing but…” She swallowed slowly, her stare centering on Rarity once more. “Ponies who care have it the hardest. When I was in your hooves, I didn’t have anypony to hold my hand.” They maintained that solemn gaze for some time, the world quiet and the scent of beans in the air. Rarity could feel the burn in her eyes, but she held it back. She would be strong. She wouldn’t let it— “Stop fighting it.” Yearling’s words gripped Rarity’s heart, clenching it and threatening to unleash the tantrum inside. “B-but I have to, don’t I? If I’m… If I’m going to live like… like this…” “It’s not about being strong.” Yearling set her can down and stood, her eyes never leaving Rarity’s. A hiccup threatened to break the dam. Rarity clutched her tin can tightly. The aura around her spoon sputtered and threatened to wink out. She couldn’t see Yearling’s expression anymore for the blurriness of her eyes. “Th-then… then what is it ab-bout?” A quick rubbing of the eyes gave her back her vision, and in that brief moment of blindness Yearling had disappeared. “I have no idea.” Rarity yelped, spinning sideways to find the mare sitting right beside her. Just before the tears could blur her face again, Yearling’s lips curled up in a small, warm smile. “But I do know what you need right now.” “And what is—” Rarity found herself the target of a tight hug. “This,” Yearling whispered. “Let it out, kid. Let it all out.” Chest hitching, lips trembling, Rarity realized her resistance was about to crumble. It would be humiliating, tragic, improper! And yet… it did feel… It came out, and the moment it began she knew there could be no stopping it. Her shaking arms wrapped around Yearling’s shoulders and the sob broke free. “I didn’t mean to kill her! I just wanted to live and be a good pony and have a normal, wonderful life in Manehattan! I couldn’t just let him do it and I had to protect Coco and the stupid griffons tried to kidnap all of us and my parents probably think I’m dead and dear little Sweetie Belle I miss you so much!” More words, more sobs, more shaking. Gradually, Rarity stopped paying any attention to her own words – they weren’t making any sense anyway. She lost track of time, of place, even of whose shoulder she was crying on. She released all the bitterness and confusion and anger in a massive, seemingly endless torrent. When the words stopped flowing she felt so horribly small, like she was a little filly again lost in a great wide desert. She kept seeing visions of the last season. A turquoise pony falling on and on, seemingly forever, dropping into a dark abyss that Rarity knew was of her own making. A landscape of bodies. Griffons and ponies lying in heaps, forms shattered and broken, their glassy eyes tracking her as she flew over on blue wings she’d stolen from a pegasus digging a deep hole. A pale Double Diamond covered in blood, the side of his head popped open like a grape, his fingers wrapped around Rarity’s neck as she failed again and again to grasp her gun in her magic. Piecazzo watched, judging her silently while ravens picked at the open wound on his face. Braeburn laying on her shop floor, limp in a pool of blood. He stared at her, lips curled in a smug grin. She kept her hands on her bars of her cell, unable to look back. The sound of a thousand hoofsteps, a whole Family’s worth, grew louder at her back. She woke slowly, curled up within her sleeping bag and feeling unusually comfortable for it. Cool air blew against her face, and the sway of her mane tickled her nose. She batted it away and tried to get back to sleep, only for the chill wind to return. On the third time, she forced her eyes open. She was met with the sight of a small blue fan that swung its head back and forth in slow, repetitive motions. What an odd thing. She couldn’t remember ever seeing one that small. Come to think of it, she’d never heard of a portable fan. Sitting up proved a painful ordeal, sores and aches turning up all over her body. She stretched her arms high, fingers bumping the warm fabric of the tent ceiling. When had she come in here? She took in her surroundings, which didn’t consist of much beyond the ugly green of the tent and a couple canteens in the corner, along with her hat. And only one sleeping bag. Curious, then where was— A groan rose from her lips as she remembered last night. Had she really broken down in front of a complete stranger? Yearling must think her such a child. She’d have to find some way to save face. This in mind, she took a moment to check herself, only to realize that it was a futile effort. She stunk of sweat and had no means of cleaning or fixing her clothes. At least she could cast a quick cantrip to straighten her mane, but even that didn’t amount to much when it had gone for so long without a good washing. She could only delay her shame for so long. With butterflies in her stomach, Rarity crawled forward and exited the tent. It was a bright morning, not a cloud in the clear blue sky. The sun beat down on her from a low angle, but at least it wasn’t as bright as it was hot. Judging by its position, it was still early morning. The equipment all lay where it had last night, though the heating vase no longer had the ruby and so was off. Yearling sat next to her motorcycle, which now lay on the ground with the plating removed from one side. Rarity came closer, taking a curious look. The inside of the vehicle was a mess of piping, wires, metal frames and mechanical pieces she couldn’t possibly name. It looked like a cross between an elaborate mechanical puzzle and a bomb, and she immediately resolved not to go near any of it lest she make it go off. Yearling didn’t look up from her work, busy as she was screwing a small round piece into the motorcycle’s innards. “Morning, Princess. Sleep well?” “I…” Rarity thought back to the strange dreams she’d had. Strange, but nowhere near as bad as the nightmares she’d been having in recent weeks. “I had a ‘better’ sleep, at least. What are you doing?” “Just a bit of maintenance,” she replied, pausing to wipe sweat from her brow. She’d taken off her jacket, leaving only the white undershirt soaked in sweat. “Little Lightning took a lot of heat yesterday. Gotta make sure he didn’t suffer anything serious with all the bullets flying around.” Rarity cocked her head. “Little Lightning?” With a shrug, Yearling went back to work, this time carefully pulling out a long cylinder that had been screwed into the machine. She examined it with peering gaze, muzzle not quite touching the greasy metal. “That’s what it’s called, Little Lightning. Not my choice, whoever made it centuries ago chose the name. Didn’t feel right giving it another.” “I see.” Rarity had hoped for some sort of segue into the topic, but her conversation skills failed her. “I… um… I wanted to apologize. For my behavior. Last night.” Smooth. She was tempted to facepalm. “No apologies necessary.” Yearling replaced the cylinder, and soon she was putting the machine back together. “You’ve had a tough time of it, and you’re still pretty new to the whole ‘roughing it’ thing. Sometimes all we need is a shoulder to cry on.” “And I’m all for it.” Rarity felt the blood rushing to her cheeks and averted her gaze. “With somepony I’m familiar with, as opposed to a total stranger. I imagine it must have been entirely uncomfortable for you.” With the last of the pieces back in place, Yearling grabbed the plating and began screwing it back onto Little Lightning. “Do you feel better?” Rarity considered the question. Physically she was in a lot of pain, but it was mostly soreness from yesterday’s… ‘exercise.’ Mentally? She had to acknowledge, she did feel a bit more pleasant compared to how she’d been. Ever since leaving Spike, she’d felt this gloomy cloud hovering over her head. It was still there, reminding her of her foul situation, but it was certainly diminished. Her new companion probably didn’t need to hear all of that. She elected to condense it down into the simplest of terms: “Yes, I do.” “Then it was worth it and I don’t mind.” Pocketing her screwdriver, Yearling walked around to grab Little Lightning’s handlebars, lifted it upright with a grunt and visible effort, and used her boot to set the stand. When she stepped back, the motorcycle remained in place despite the sand that shouldn’t have supported it. “Stick with me for a bit. I’ll teach you a thing or two.” “I must admit, I am out of my element.” Rarity clasped her hands behind her back, studying Yearling as the mare took a drink of water from her canteen. She was by no means a big pony, but she seemed healthy. And strong, if the muscles on her arms were anything to go by. She carried herself with a combination of confidence and carelessness, which made her kind act all the stranger. “I apologize, but it still seems odd to me that you’d so quickly decide to help a stranger such as me.” Yearling smirked. “That’s a life on the run turning you into a skeptic. It’s not a bad thing. One of the things you learn over time is when to trust ponies and when not to.” She offered Rarity her canteen. “So tell me, would you rather wander Equestria on your own? I for one could use a partner, y’know?” Sunlight glistened off the metal canteen. Rarity looked from it to Yearling, unable to detect anything untoward. Now that she considered her options, she realized that she’d not really had a plan. Oh, sure, she’d been headed for Las Pegasus, but it wasn’t like she had any reason to be there. Perhaps Yearling was more of a blessing than she thought. Smiling at last, Rarity took the canteen. “So, ‘partner’, where are we going?” “Out there!” Yearling whirled around to face the north, hands spread wide. Rarity almost spat out the water she’d been drinking, and still failed to keep some from dribbling down her chin. She swallowed quickly and whipped her face. “Out there? You mean the seemingly endless desert with the scorching heat, frigid nights, and no resources with which to resupply ourselves for thousands of miles? That out there?” “You got it, Princess.” Suddenly, partnering with this pony didn’t seem so wise. “Pray tell, what could possibly make you want to go out there? Or for me to come with?” Yearling blew a raspberry and waved a dismissive hand. “Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing. We’re not gonna cross the thing, just do a little exploring.” A long, studious gaze brought Rarity’s head a full one-hundred-eighty degrees, from east to north to south. Nothing met her gaze save yellow sands, white salt, and blue skies. “Whatever could you be hoping to find?” The archeologist shot Rarity a smirk, a hungry look in her eye. “Elysium.” Yep. Crazy pony. Rarity took a cautious step back. “I can think of two ponies we met recently who would have been happy to send you there without all the hassle of traipsing around the desert.” Yearling burst out laughing. The sound was almost obscene in the harsh quiet of their surroundings. She seemed to think so too, for she stopped after only a few seconds, cheeks flushed. But her grin remained. “Not that Elysium, silly! Elysium Oasis.” Rarity blinked. “But isn’t that just an old mare’s tale?” “No way, it’s real!” Yearling went back to gazing north, hands on her hips as she stood tall and stuck out her chest. “I know it, just like Finland and the Crystal Ruins. And I’m gonna find it, even if it takes me forever.” It seemed ridiculous, especially considering one of those two destinations she’d named had never been proven to exist. At least, not in modern times. Rarity glanced south, feeling a twinge of unease upon realizing that the Dragon’s Teeth were nowhere to be seen. How far north had the mare already taken them? “I don’t suppose you have a plan to do this that doesn’t involve dying?” “Of course I do! This ain’t my first rodeo, Princess.” Yearling reached into Little Lightning’s metal containers near the back and pulled out another pair of tin cans. “We’ll have to see how much food and water you brought with you so we can determine exactly how long we can afford to be out there. I’d already planned everything out, but with another mouth to feed those numbers are gonna be all screwed up. Here.” She tossed a can to Rarity, who caught it in her magic. “Have some peaches.” At least it sounded as if she knew what she was doing, and Rarity had already acknowledged she didn’t have any real plans for the immediate future. Plus, she wasn’t sure she could make it back to the Dragon’s Teeth, much less Rockstead, on her own. Sure, it was as simple as going south, but without a sand lizard and not knowing how far north she was there could be no guarantee of making it there. And Yearling had saved her life. She popped the can open, and the powerful scent of peaches hit her hard. They smelled amazing, her mouth watering at just the thought of what they might taste like. She lifted a single peach out with her magic, licked her lips, and took a dainty bite. The taste nearly knocked her off her hooves, and she promptly popped the rest of the slice into her eager maw. And with that magic dancing across her taste buds, Rarity’s mood skyrocketed. Why couldn’t she go with Yearling on this little journey? It wasn’t like she’d be any safer on her own, even if she did know the way, and she might even learn something about surviving out here. As she sucked down another juicy slice of peach, the world suddenly didn’t seem so scary. “You know what? It. Is. On!” Rarity eyed the hammer as she might a dangerous creature. “Isn’t there some kind of trick to this?” Yearling watched from a short ways off, a smirk just beginning to form on her lips. “Yeah. It’s called ‘hitting the nail.’” With a huff, Rarity set the large nail into the ring at the corner of their tent. “This kind of manual labor is not among my repertoire of skills.” She fumbled with the nail, trying to hold it steady as she aimed the hammer. Once she was… marginally satisfied, she gave it a tap. The dirt beneath the nail failed to give. “You’ve gotta hit it hard, Princess.” Shooting her a glare, Rarity tried again with a little more force and achieved nothing. “Harder.” Another whack, another failure. “Harder.” “I’m trying!” Rarity smacked the nail, but still it didn’t penetrate the ground. “Oh, why can’t I use my magic for this again?” “You let me worry about why. Harder!” With a snarl, Rarity brought the hammer down as hard as she could. Directly onto her hand. “It’s called a sextant.” Rarity pulled her bruised hand away from the small contraption. “Seriously?” At Yearling’s nod, she sighed. “Well, I see somepony in the distant past had a dirty mind.” Rolling her eyes, Yearling turned back to the large map she had spread on a folding table. “Come on, Rarity, that’s foal talk. Be serious, this kind of thing could save your life.” Tentatively, Rarity stepped closer and took the instrument in her hands. Twisting it to study its every angle, she asked, “And what exactly does a… ‘sextant’ do?” “You use it to measure angular distance and figure out where you are. Usually you use it on the horizon and a star or the sun.” Moving with great care, Yearling marked a line on the map. “There are a ton of uses for a sextant in navigation, and I’m gonna teach you all of them.” Frowning, Rarity set the sextant down as if it might break from the tiniest of impacts. “Whatever happened to using a compass?” With a sigh, Yearling took the sextant and set it so it would keep the map from rolling up on its own. “A compass tells you direction. That’s it. It can’t tell you where you are, how far away that landmark is, or pretty much anything else. If you’re gonna travel alone and you intend to avoid the main paths, you’ve got to learn how to guide yourself.” She reached into a pocket of her coat, pulling out a small brass item and handing it to Rarity. Rarity took it, raising an eyebrow at the familiar face of the thing. “A watch?” “A chronometer. Big difference.” “Uh-huh.” She turned the ‘chronometer’ about in her hands. “Am I to assume we’ll need this for navigation as well?” “Yep.” Yearling pointed outside the tent. “In a few minutes we’re gonna take some measurements and check our location as the sun is going down. That means measuring the angular distance between the sun and the horizon over a set period of time.” Rarity blinked, glanced at the sextant, then at the desert world outside the tent. “That requires us to look at the sun, right?” “Yep.” A long pause. “I have no intention of going blind, thank you.” Yearling facepalmed with a groan. “Come on, let me shoot it. Just once!” Rarity took in Yearling’s pleading expression. She reached up to rub the Ruby Heart beneath her vest. “B-but the ammunition is so hard to come by. It requires rubies. Rubies.” Yearling scoffed and rolled her eyes. “It’s a 45, isn’t it? I’m sure it can fire regular ammo just as well.” “I suppose it could.” And that would be much easier to come by, even if the gun would lose its main advantage as a result. “Do you have any?” “Uh… no.” Yearling wilted, her wings drooping so far the tips of her primaries touched the sand. “Come on, you get an awesome piece of handheld artillery and Mooney’s pistol. That stuff ain’t even fair. You gotta let me try out the Heart!” Rarity stared at the pegasus. “‘Mooney’s’ pistol?” Yearling’s head snapped up, her eyes going wide. “Uh, I mean, Silver Lining. Who cares? Just let me—” “No, that wasn’t some mistake.” Rarity peered at her companion, thumb rubbing the small nub on Silver Lining’s grip. “Why did you call it that? Is ‘Mooney’ the Shrouding Midnight? Where’d that nickname come from?” “Nope, I ain’t talking!” Yearling crossed her arms and turned away, chin held high. “You won’t let me shoot the Heart, so why should I tell you a thing?” Rarity smirked even as she watched Yearling’s tail flicking and her wings ruffling. “Don’t think you can play a game like that on me. I don’t even know if you have anything worth learning.” “Well, this is a fine thanks for showing you how to survive in the wilds on your own.” That one made Rarity wince. She pulled on her vest to glance at the Ruby Heart in its holster. She had to admit, a bullet or two wouldn’t kill her. She just felt as if every one was precious. A glance at Yearling’s scowl brought her ears low. “Oh, fine, but only a few shots.” “Yeah!” Yearling spun about to reach for the gun even as Rarity pulled it out. “And please be careful!” Rarity chewed her lip at the sight of Yearling testing Ruby Heart’s weight. “It was a gift.” “It’s not like I don’t carry a gun myself, Princess Gunslinger.” She snatched an empty tin can from the ground, which already had multiple holes from Rarity’s previous practice sessions. Yearling tossed it to Rarity, who caught it in her magic. “Now do me a favor and pull.” Sighing, Rarity sent the can hurtling through the sky. Yearling took aim, holding Ruby Heart with both hands and closing one eye. The shot seemed much louder now that Rarity wasn’t the one firing it, making her flinch and half-raise her hands for her ears. Yearling’s arm swung up wildly as the now-distant can shattered. “Whooooa, does this thing kick!” Yearling shook her head, rubbed her ear, then stared at Ruby Heart with a manic grin. “I swear to Celestia, this has got to be the sexiest handgun ever.” Rarity was too busy trying to understand how a gun could be sexy to notice the second tin can, at least until it whacked her upside the head. One thing Rarity learned quickly: Yearling liked taking naps. Apparently it was a pegasus thing. Not that she minded the daily routine of it. She cast a glance at the little fan that somehow managed to keep an entire tent cool in the blazing heat of a desert noon. Yearling claimed it was another ‘liberated’ artifact, although she also confessed to having had numerous ponies, both mechanically and magically inclined, work on it to keep it running for so long. When Rarity asked why such a magnificent device hadn’t been produced en mass, Yearling had replied with a quiet “Ponies don’t trust one another” and left it at that. Setting the topic aside, she examined the sextant in her hands. One task. That was all Yearling had given her before joining the dead in blessed unconsciousness. Rarity had been taught everything, but to actually manage it on her own? She eyed the mark she’d hesitantly made on the map. Had she gotten the numbers wrong? Perhaps her timing with the clo— chronometer had been off. They could end up going in the complete wrong direction, and then Yearling might never trust her with this again. Yearling let out a yawn and began to stretch atop her sleeping bag, and Rarity’s stomach dropped. She was early! Wasn’t she? Well, maybe not, the pegasus was disturbingly punctual about when she woke up from her naps. Rarity fought down nausea by wondering if all pegasi could time their sleep habits so perfectly. Maybe if she ever met another one she’d be able to ask? The pegasus sat up and rubbed her eye, glancing at Rarity with the other. “You look like some mare just asked you out when you’re not into mares.” Rarity blinked. He cheeks started to burn. “E-excuse me?” “It was just a metaphor, Princess.” Shaking her entire body right to her wingtips, Yearling smacked her lips, then turned to the map on the small table between them. “So, think you know where we are?” Having the attention now on her work did nothing to calm the moths in Rarity’s gut. She tapped the tips of her forefingers together and hurriedly went over the numbers again in her head. “I… think so?” She repeated the latitude and longitude she’d calculated. Actually, it was the average of three different measurements, because she didn’t trust herself to get it right the first time. The experienced explorer took Rarity’s notes, written in delicate cursive on a small chalkboard, and studied them. Rarity could do nothing but fidget, her hooves shifting in place and her tail flicking against the inside of the tent. She was gradually getting accustomed to its cramped space. Yearling gave a huff, set the board down, and smiled. “Good work. The redundancy paid off; with three tries, you really narrowed it down. You’re off juuuuuuust a smudge, but nowhere near enough to be a problem.” Ears perking, Rarity asked, “You mean I got it right?” “Within the margin of error.” Yearling snatched a water bag from beside the table and took a quick swig. “Yeah, you got it right. Get this right a few days in a row and I’ll let you do this every day without checking your work.” Rarity’s chest swelled, and her pride startled her. It had been a long time since she’d acquired a new skill she could boast about. She rather liked the feeling. Perhaps, since she was going to be rambling around Equestria anyway, she could seek out more skills. Was this how Coco had felt back when she’d been Rarity’s apprentice? Rarity woke with a start, slapping a hand over her lips to keep the scream at bay. She could still smell and taste the blood on it. She closed her eyes, only to snap them back open so as not to see the horror on Coco’s face. Her shop… so much blood… Trembling hands covered her face. She fought back a sob. Why did the nightmares have to come back? Why did those two pegasi have to attack her? She’d been doing so well. “I-I’m not a killer. I’m not a killer.” Holding herself tightly, fingers digging into her shoulders, Rarity rolled into the fetal position and tried to stave off her shivers. “I’m not a killer. I’m n-not a killer. I’m not a killer…” It wasn’t until the arms wrapped around her shoulders that she remembered she wasn’t alone in the tent. She tensed, gritting her teeth and closing her eyes tight against the tears. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—” “Hush.” Yearling’s voice was but a whisper in her ear. “It’s okay. You’re gonna be okay. It was just a dream.” “Just a dream.” Breathe. Slower. Slower. “I’m f-fine. I’m not a killer.” “That’s right.” Fingers massaged her shoulders. Yearling’s breath tickled Rarity’s ear. “Just relax. Do what you gotta do. Everything’s gonna be fine.” Rarity rocked in the mare’s arms, letting the tears flow and hoping her appreciation was understood. Riding on the back of Little Lightning was still far from Rarity’s favorite experience, especially considering she spent two thirds of her day doing exactly that. She kept her cheek on Yearling’s sweat-coated back, watching the ever-repeating desert scenery pass by at speeds she used to think incredible. By now she trusted her balance enough to let her arms lie limp on her knees, only ever grabbing Yearling’s waist when the pony decided to turn, which was rare. A glance at the sun told Rarity they’d been riding for some three hours so far that morning, which left them with another three to go before they stopped. They’d pitch their tent, have a quick lunch, then Yearling would sleep away the afternoon while Rarity checked their location, updated the map, and found ways to entertain herself during the hottest part of the day. Sometimes Yearling would stay up for a little while to talk, but never for long. Then they’d be on Little Lightning again for another six hours. Rarity sighed and glanced back, watching with disinterest as the motorcycle kicked up a cloud of sand in their wake. She played with the idea of probing the wheels’ magical form that let them stick to and push against the soft sands as if they were hard ground, but the practice had grown old. These were the worst parts of Rarity’s day, when there was nothing to do but hold on and keep an eye open for anything strange in the world around them. It grew boring quickly, and boredom led to thinking. And when Rarity thought, her mind usually swirled around until it drained into dark thoughts involving her future and how it was ruined. Perhaps she could probe the magic in Little Lightning again. She let her eyes trace the contours of the distant dunes while she pondered that plan. Somehow, Yearling was convinced there might be some mystical place to find amongst all this sand and heat. Rarity still had her doubts. “And then, just when I thought the gates would close, trapping me for the rest of eternity among a vengeful swarm of spritebots… I made it through!” Yearling cut a flip in the air and posed, hands to hips and chest thrust out. “It was a close call. I swear I felt my wingtips touch the doors, and I had them tucked in as tight as I could! But I made it, and with the tapestry to boot.” Rarity clapped dutifully from her place beside the heating vase. “Truly magnificent, Darling!” In truth, she only believed half the story, but that wasn’t the point. Yearling was good at telling them, even if her own parts seemed a little too self-glorifying to be believed. “And whatever happened to the tapestry of Red Gaze?” The storyteller returned to being a regular explorer upon landing on the rolled up sleeping bag she’d been using as a chair. She took a long-handled spoon and stirred the bubbling stew in the iron pot between the two of them. “I donated it to a museum in Seaddle. Say what you want about them folks, they respect the past.” “Wait, donated?” Rarity leaned forward. “But don’t you sell artifacts to get by?” Yearling shrugged. “Not always. Sometimes a lone rich pony will sponsor my expeditions, more often than not a museum curator or mage. Some do it for a promise I’ll give them something worthwhile when I get back, which makes it pretty important I do actually find what I’m looking for most of the time.” She paused to taste the stew, nodded and waved her free hand. Rarity promptly levitated a pair of stone bowls over to her. “More often it’s some jerk who thinks ancient artifacts will grant him or her more power or something. I don’t like working with them, but as long as I’m sure they’re just a crackpot and not on to something legitimately dangerous I’ll take their bits.” Rarity accepted a full bowl, but didn’t hurry to eat. “And if you find something that is dangerous?” “Personal collection.” With a hum, Rarity focused on her food, and Yearling seemed content to do the same. She had no idea how true Yearling’s stories of adventure in search of ancient history were. They could all be wild tales made up on the spot for all she knew. Yet she couldn’t ignore the evidence, and the evidence said that even if Yearling hadn’t been to all the places she’d claimed, she was very much a seasoned explorer. “So,” she said after swallowing a bite. “What is it ponies say about Seaddle natives?” “You mean besides that they’re arrogant pricks with their heads stuffed up their butts when not buried in their greedily amassed treasury?” As Yearling launched into a surprisingly intricate description of Seaddle, its customs and culture, Rarity listened intently. She absorbed everything, for if there was anything she wanted to learn most from Yearling, it was about the real, known, physical places she’d been to. In this the explorer was a motherlode of information, and Rarity intended to mine that vein as much as possible. Travel was part of her life now. She imagined geography would be a pivotal part of her future success. And perhaps survival. “Why a rook?” Yearling tensed, the small black chess piece disappearing into some inner pocket of her vest. “What rook?” She pretended to focus on the act of getting into her sleeping bag, as if it might actually be difficult. Observing this behavior with pursed lips, already lying down and comfortable, Rarity turned to face her companion. “The one you stare at every night before bed.” The adventurer paused, her wings going slack. “Oh. That rook.” “If you don’t want to talk about it—” “No, it’s… it’s okay. You caught me, fair and square.” She took her time getting settled for bed. Once on her back, she took the rook out and held it high, gazing at it. Through it. “It’s not something that’s easy to explain.” Rarity felt as if she were treading dangerous ground. Would the mare get angry if she pressed? Still, Yearling seemed at least somewhat open to discussion, and this was a subject she’d long wanted to broach. Perhaps it would be worth the risk. “I didn’t mean to intrude. I just saw you with it a few times and… well, I always wondered where the rest of the set was.” Yearling was quiet for a time. She turned the rook, its black form polished to a shine. When she finally spoke, it was in a whisper. “There was this pony I met. It was a long time ago. I didn’t know her but for… a week? Maybe. But in that short time, she left a serious impression on me. I became a better, braver pony for having met her.” A smile crept onto Rarity’s lips. “What was her name?” “Wild Fire.” The name slipped out of the adventurer with a touch of awe. “She was a drifter. The good kind, the kind that wanted to protect ponies.” “She sounds lovely.” Propping her head up by an elbow, Rarity studied Yearling’s bright red eyes. She’d never seen the mare like this. She was akin to a filly discussing her role model, and it was almost cute. “So where is she now?” The glow faded. Yearling’s eyes lowered, her bottom lip poked out a little, and she let out a long, slow breath. “Ponyville.” Rarity felt her smile vanish. “She was at the Battle of Ponyville?” When the mare didn’t answer, she gaped. “You were at the Battle of Ponyville?” “Born there.” Yearling’s soft hold became a clenched fist around the chess piece. “I took this off her body after the battle. Then I ran, and spent the rest of my life learning how to survive without a home. I was fourteen.” “Oh.” What did one say to something like that? ‘I’m sorry’ felt so shallow. “I apologize for asking.” “It was sixteen years ago.” The rook disappeared from sight, and Yearling set her hands behind her head to gaze at the tent ceiling. “You figure out how to move on from such things. I still look up to her, but honestly? I kinda stopped thinking about her and the rook for a while.” Settling on her back, Rarity asked, “What changed?” “You showed up.” Now it seemed Yearling was trying very hard not to look at Rarity. “You’re older than I was, sure, but… I feel like you’re in the same wagon I was back then. It makes me think about Wild Fire, and how much easier things might have been if she’d been around to help me through it.” So that was why Yearling had been so devoted to her ‘teacher’ role. Rarity didn’t know how to feel about that. Part of her wanted to feel guilty for reminding the archaeologist of such a sad time in her life, but another hoped that, by taking on such a role, Yearling might feel a sense of accomplishment. There was one thing bubbling up from within that Rarity felt no confusion over at all. “Thank you for being here for me, A.K. Really.” Yearling met her gaze. It took a moment, but when she smiled it was bright and sincere. “You’re welcome.” Then she turned away and thrust the top portion of her sleeping bag over her head. “Now enough with the sappy stuff! Can’t maintain my ‘cool adventurer’ status if I’m getting all mushy.” With a chuckle, Rarity used her horn to extinguish their lamp. “Of course. Good night.” “Good night.” As her eyes adjusted to the dark, Rarity gazed at the top of their tent and wondered about Yearling’s story. Ponyville. To think, somepony survived. Rarity had only been seven when word passed through Mooisville of the battle. It had seemed so distant and unrelated to her, though it had had the adults around her whispering behind her back for weeks. The wild territories between the city states had always been dangerous, but that event had marked a turning point. Suddenly, the world had become that much darker. Could Yearling be like her Wild Fire? Then again, did ‘her’ indicate Rarity or Yearling? Perhaps it didn’t matter. Maybe the archaeologist already was a hero drifter. She’d saved Rarity’s life once, and perhaps more than once if her lessons bore fruit. Becoming like Wild Fire might bring fulfillment to Yearling’s life, even if she hadn’t taken that course so far. And what of Rarity? Her thoughts drifted to what she’d heard in Rockstead weeks before. Bulletproof Heart. The start of a legend? The idea almost made her laugh out loud. She was a clothier. The very thought of killing left her a nervous wreck, to say nothing of the act itself. She had the fancy guns, and yes, she’d even begrudgingly admit she showed some skill. But the mentality of fighting, the desire and willingness eluded her. All Rarity wanted was to make dresses. Make dresses. She scowled; she’d not make many of those in a long time. All because of some idiot with a gun and his brain between his legs. And the stupid Apples and their damnable family pride! Couldn’t they just accept that Braeburn deserved it and leave her alone? Had he deserved it? Of course he did! Rarity growled and buried her head beneath the pillow. Maybe if she pressed down hard enough, she wouldn’t get into this argument with herself again. She was only punishing herself. You should! You’ve killed ponies. She let out a low groan, resigning herself to another night of churning emotions and inner turmoil.