//------------------------------// // Chapter Six - Back on the Other Side // Story: Fairlight - To the Edge of Midnight // by Bluespectre //------------------------------// CHAPTER SIX BACK ON THE OTHER SIDE One of the things I remembered all too clearly about portal travel was the horrible lurching effect it had on both your mind and your body when you were spewed out the other side. If asked to describe the experience I would have to say that if you could imagine finding yourself unexpectedly weightless and then suddenly having gravity come back abruptly, plunging you back down to earth at the same moment your mind is trying to catch up with what your stomach’s doing, then you would have a reasonable idea of what a real treat this was. Portal jumps of the kind I had made before were nothing compared to this, except maybe with the exception of the jump to the human world. That one had been like being turned inside out and then being shoved back together by somepony who didn’t know where all your organs were supposed to go. Maybe it was the length of time it had been since I’d been through a portal, or an effect of the master portal itself, but whatever it was I emptied the contents of my stomach in an impressive stream that had poor Zip Line jumping for cover. “Hey! Watch it!” “Sorry,” I breathed, spitting the bile from my mouth. I took a swig from my canteen and spat it out. “Damn, I hate portals. I really hate portals.” “Not used to them, eh?” Zip Line clucked her tongue as she gave herself a shake. “I ‘spose I should have warned you, but y’know, you get used to it.” “Goddesses almighty...” I reached up and rubbed my horn. “That crap really messes with your magic.” Zip Line shrugged, “If you say so.” Wind whipped through the mare’s mane, making her feathers flutter and her cloak whip round like a loose sail. “Bugger this, let’s get our flanks into cover and get our bearings, Corny.” She didn’t have to tell me twice. We’d barely begun to run when the rain hit with all the subtlety of a bucket to the face. It was quickly becoming nigh on impossible to see much at all without having your eyes half shut just to try to keep the water out, even as the wind managed to force it into every conceivable place, cloaks or no cloaks. Just to make matters worse, the sun was dipping behind the mountains and creating shadows that made navigating this unfamiliar terrain an absolute nightmare. It was early evening according to the briefing papers, somewhere around seven o’clock, but with the heavy cloud cover it could have been midnight for all the difference it made. And it was cold too. Not normally bothered by low temperatures I was surprised by how much I had changed of late. I was shivering, my teeth chattering so much that I had to watch I didn’t bite my tongue by accident as I dove for cover after my nimble comrade into the shelter of a rickety looking hay barn. Zip Line didn’t exactly look happy either and fussed with her wings, shaking off the water. “Blast it!” she snorted, glowering at her legs. “Look at the state of me! It’s going to take ages to get all this mud off.” “Wind, rain, and muddy legs. Just another glorious day in the corps,” I quipped. The mare huffed and looked at me askance. “I don’t know what you’re looking so cheerful about. You’ll have to wipe all that crap off yourself too when we get back you know.” She frowned. “Anyway, what the hell were you playing at back there? Are you trying to get us into bother? Damn it, Corny, don’t you know who that was?” “Buggered if I know,” I said. I gave my cloak a squeeze and managed to get at least some of the water out. “Don’t care either. He didn’t bother to introduce himself so sod him, the pretentious arse.” I couldn’t abide ponies like that and unfortunately they tended to bring out the worst in me too. “I’m not surprised he didn’t, he’s...” Zip Line sighed, “Damn it. Look, I can’t blame you, Corny. You’ve probably never heard of Thalio before anyway.” “Thalio...” I murmured. “Yeah.” My partner took out her briefing report and a small map as she continued, “He was busted down a few years back after a high profile job went wrong. Thalio used to be an alicorn but after that debacle the palace had his powers stripped and he was dropped back to being just a plain old unicorn once again.” She held up a hoof. “Um, no offence.” “None taken,” I said quietly. Thalio? Damn… Yes, I remembered him, and he was one of the last ponies I wanted to see again. He sure as hell didn’t look like he does now when I’d first come across the guy. He was one of the three who’d tried to fillet me in the Wither World before attempting to drag me forcibly back to the herd where they could strip my memories, and thereby ‘cleanse’ me of the spirit that had bonded with me there. Not necessarily in that order either. There was him, his pal Helios, and… “Artemis,” I said quietly. “Second Legion. Fifth Cohort. Wither World detachment.” I could remember it word for word. It was just one of those silly things that lodge in your head that has absolutely no practical value other than to remind you that sometimes you had about as much control over your own mind’s inner workings as a fox in a hen-house. “How did you…?” Zip Line paused and held up a hoof, “No. Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know.” She gave herself a shake and peered out into the rain. “Come on, we’ve got a job to do.” So much for our shelter then. I took a breath and dove out after my comrade where the wind and rain battered at us once again, utterly heedless to the discomfort of the two ponies walking amongst the living. Speaking of which… “Zippy, can anypony actually see us?” “Nope.” The mare forged on through the rain, holding a wing up to try and block some of the water from getting into her eyes. I can attest to the fact that it wasn’t helping. “So how come I’m pissing wet through then?” I asked. “Nopony told you yet?” Zip Line rolled her eyes at my blank expression. “The living don’t like to see the dead,” she explained, “and so, they don’t see us. It doesn’t mean we’re not physically here of course. We can interact with their world just as much as it can with us.” “What, we’re like invisible to them?” I asked, genuinely intrigued by the concept. “What happens if we bump into somepony or knock something over?” “Ever heard of poltergeists?” Zip Line replied. “Ah...” “Yeah. Welcome to my world, Corny.” Poltergeists aside, the most fascinating thing for me right then was the fact that I could actually move outside the realm of the herd. There was no glade, no otherworldly glow from the spirit berry bushes, and no barrier. It was… it was like I was alive again! Who cared if other ponies couldn’t see me? I could smell, I could touch, I could feel the rain on my face and the wet mud on my coat. And it felt good. Damn it, it felt so good! “Hoy, get a grip!” Zip Line bopped me on the nose. “Don’t start bloody daydreaming, stallion, we’ve got to-” “Wait up!” Suddenly she shoved me back behind a tall red brick wall and peered around the corner into the rain. “Yeah… that looks like our boy. What do you think?” I nosed up to the edge of the wall and carefully, silently, focussed on the scene before me. Honestly, I thought I’d seen it all, but what I was looking at right then was bizarre to say the least. The best way I can describe it was that it was like watching a movie whilst standing outside in the pouring rain. The wet, the mud, the dark grey clouds overhead, all clashed impossibly with the sunlit sanctuary sitting there completely unaffected in the middle of the garden of overgrown flowerbeds. Only weeds now grew where once there had the vibrant colours and gentle fragrances of a well tended garden. Now it was a scene of darkness, locked in a perpetual twilight of iron grey clouds and incessant rain. And yet there, sat in the middle of it all as though time had simply sat still, was a living echo of what it had once been. Sunlight blazed overhead, untouched by the surrounding gloom, while beneath it flowers every colour of the rainbow grew as fresh and vibrant as life itself. Brightly marked butterflies flit from bloom to bloom, the rich fertile earth adding its own song to the symphony of beauty that was trapped here as though inside some otherworldly snow globe. And there amongst it all, tending this incredible scene of perfect serenity, walked a faded orange coated stallion with a wispy grey mane and tail. He looked as ancient as the mountains that surrounded us. The cruel lines of age had ravaged his face, his hide hung loosely on his bones and his knees looked decidedly shaky. But there, clearly visible on his flank, was the unmistakable cutie mark of a watering can. This had to be our stallion all right. “That’s him,” I said quietly. “Got to be.” I glanced around us at the walls, the wild bushes and trees creaking eerily as they swayed in the wind. “Doesn’t look like much of a retirement resort to me.” It was difficult to make much out in the dim light, but the outline of a large structure and what appeared to have once been a large wide gravel driveway, loomed out of the greyness. Curiosity got the better of me. I walked over to a large shape jutting out of the wild vines and moved them aside for a better look. There, faded and cracked by years of neglect and the effect of nature, was a name. Polston Retirement Resort “What is it?” Zip Line whispered, moving up beside me. I showed her the sign. “We’re definitely in the right place.” “Well of course we are!” she hissed. “Keep focussed will you? We’re here to do a job, not book ourselves in for spa treatment you know!” “I know that, it’s just...” I gave myself a shake, dislodging some of the water from my mane. “Look at this place, Zip. It’s been abandoned for years, decades even. How long has this guy been here?” She shrugged, “A couple of days apparently.” “Like bollocks he has!” I pointed towards the crumbling ruin with its flaking and rotten window frames. “This hasn’t happened in a couple of days.” “Look, forget about it, okay?” Zip Line walked back towards the wall. “Two days, two months, twenty years. You know that time is different between here and the herd, right?” “Of course I do,” I replied. Zip Line gave a sniff. “So there you go then!” Oh sure, it was just that easy wasn’t it. Let’s just dismiss the briefing as being ‘a little bit inaccurate’, by say, a fact of a few decades, right? To say it didn’t inspire confidence was the understatement of the year. I glanced around the wall at the gardener, still tending his small patch of blooms in all its summery glory. “What now then?” I asked. “Well that’s easy, we just go over there and talk to him,” Zip Line replied. “As simple as that?” I asked. “As simple as that,” she nodded to me. “Just follow my lead and watch it with those bloody questions, alright? Upsetting a soul can make matters a hell of a lot worse.” Zip Line raised an eyebrow. “So no badgering, got it?” “You’re the boss.” I tried to give her a reassuring smile and only received a wet snort in reply. Zip Line seemed a lot more business like here than she had back in the barracks. Perhaps she was like how many of my old colleagues had been in the watch: there was one persona for the public, and another for home, friends, and family. It had always amazed me how some could switch so effortlessly between the two, whereas me… well, I’d always been myself regardless of how much I’d tried to follow their lead. How that had effected Meadow over the years I couldn’t say, and it was a well known yet little discussed fact that watch ponies had a frighteningly high divorce rate. We didn’t talk about it, and yet it was always there, lurking at the back of your mind on those long night shifts or when you were on stake outs that could take you away from home for days on end. I suppose I should have been grateful that my own marriage had lasted as long as it had. We walked around the remains of the raised borders, pushing through long grasses and overhanging branches until, abruptly, the rain ceased and we were bathed in deliciously warm sunlight. Looking up there wasn’t a cloud in the sky: No rain, no grey overcast storm-fronts, only a gentle warmth that felt deliciously soothing and almost gentle against my fur. I had a sudden urge to take off my cloak, hang it up on the peg by the trellis, and try my own hoof at horticulture. Zip Line apparently thought otherwise and gave me a nudge, refocussing my mind on the task at hoof. And there he was, standing with a small brown apron strapped around his waist and a trowel in his hoof, tending to his plants as though this were the most natural thing in the world. If he’d seen us, he didn’t let on. My colleague gave her mane a quick brush and readjusted her helmet and saturated cloak. “Excuse me, sir?” Silence. Zip Line tried again, “Ahem! Sir, am I addressing Hedgerow?” The orange stallion continued working, his lips barely moving as he said, “Aye.” Zip Line nodded slowly. “Sir, we have come to take you home.” “‘Oim a’ready ‘ome,” the curious fellow replied in a heavily accented drawl. “Sir, it’s time to move on now. The herd is calling you, and there you can tend to your garden and enjoy the fruits of your labour for all time.” Zip Line smiled gently, “Come with us, Hedgerow. It’s time to come away.” “From the ‘erd are yer?” The old stallion’s green eyes glinted in the sunlight, reminding me a little uncomfortably of Tingles. She had similar colouring to Hedgerow, and those eyes of hers, so pure and beautiful like a forest glade. But Hedgerow’s… they were filled with a deep sense of timelessness, holding a depth that seemed completely at odds with our gentle surroundings. “Wondered when youse would get ‘ere. Took yer precious toim abaat it.” Zip Line nodded, “We’re sorry, Hedgerow. If we could have come sooner we would have.” He didn’t answer. “Hedgerow, please,” my colleague reasoned, “we can’t leave you here like this. This is no place for a soul to-” “’Oim not goin’ nowheres.” The old stallion jammed his trowel roughly into the earth. “So piss orf the two a’yer.” So much for being a ‘milk run’! I gently placed a hoof on Zip Line’s shoulder to catch her attention. “Zip, can I have a word?” The mare huffed and followed me a few paces away from Hedgerow and, hopefully, out of earshot. “Obstinate old sod,” she muttered. “I’m guessing this wasn’t expected,” I said. Zip Line shook her head. “It happens, but we usually have more information to work on.” She took out the briefing pack and leafed through it once more. “There’s bugger all about him other than him being a gardener and… that’s about it.” I glanced back at our orange friend and watched how he tenderly touched each bloom, watering them and brushing away the dead leaves. The look of absolute peace on his face and the love in his eyes was all I needed to know. He was happy here. Here in this small bubble of peace, this old soul had found what he truly wanted. “He can’t have just popped up out of thin air,” I reasoned. “He must have parents or somepony. Doesn’t he have any relatives in the herd?” Zip Line shook her head. “None that he’d be bothered about by the looks of it. Most souls have a connection to those who have gone on before them: parents, children, grandparents, even friends. That bond helps them move on to the herd. This guy though…” She let out a long breath. “There’s nothing in the briefing about anypony as a next of kin.” What a bloody outfit! Somepony needed to have a serious word with whoever was putting these briefing packs together, and preferably beat them with it afterwards. The lack of information, not to mention the inaccuracy of the time this poor bugger had been left here, was more than telling. “Zip, let’s go and have a look in the building,” I suggested. “I want to have a look around to see if there’s anything in there that may help.” “I doubt we’ll find anything useful in there,” Zip Line replied. “Half the bloody roof’s missing. Look, all we need to do is persuade him and he’ll come along on his own.” “I’m not so sure.” I shook my head slowly. “Zip, this guy’s been here for a long time by looks of it. If he’d wanted to move on he’d have done it long ago. I mean look at him, he’s happy here. I know it’s not exactly what we do, but could we-” “Leave him here?” Zip Line finished for me. She shook her head. “Not a chance.” Suddenly she pushed me out of the way and advanced on the gardener. “Sir, I know you love your garden, we can see that, but you must know that you have to let this go. You have friends, loved ones, who are waiting for you in the afterlife. Don’t you want to see them again? Wouldn’t you want to create a garden of your own there in the land where-” “Oi don’t want to ‘ear another word aht-a your maaf, young loidy.” Hedgerow’s voice abruptly lowered to a deep growl that made the very air around us vibrate. “Oi telt yer ter piss orf afore and oi means it! Nah piss orf!” “Zippy, did you feel that?” I whispered. “Look, let’s just-” “Be you still ‘ere?!” The orange stallion slowly turned, his green eyes suddenly twinkling with a haunting light that flickered menacingly. “Oi said, PISS ORF!” In an instant the atmosphere changed from one of gentle sunshine and blue skies to a mirror of the outside world. Lightning flashed overhead, illuminating the skeletal trees of the overgrown gardens whilst thunder rumbled so violently I could feel its vibrations through my armour. Zip Line and I both took a step back as Hedgerow advanced on us. “Get away with ye!” He bared his teeth, his posture shifting to one that emanated a level of aggression that was terrifyingly animalistic in its intensity. Before our very eyes, the gentle gardener began to morph. His worn hide shivered, withering away before us as his teeth began to lengthen, slipping over his lips in a nightmarish rictus grin. But above it all were those eyes, like the fires of the abyss staring naked hatred at us. “GET THEE AWAY!” I caught sight of Zip Line’s hoof moving to her sword, heard her swearing beneath her breath... and grabbed her. “Zippy, come on. Let’s pull back and rethink our-” “No!” She glanced up at me. “We can’t. Not now. Damn it, it’s too late Corny. He’s a bloody Lemur.” “A what?” I blinked. “A corrupted soul,” she replied quickly, “one filled with vengeance for something, or some wrong that’s been done to it in life.” Zip Line shook her head. “We can’t leave him like this, Corny. We’ll have to take him down.” “Take him down?” I felt a chill run through me. “He hasn’t done anything wrong! We can’t just kill him!” “He’s already dead, or hadn’t you noticed?” Zip Line began to draw her sword. “Look, there’s no option left now anyway. If we don’t take him he’ll become more powerful, more dangerous, and then he’ll become a serious risk to anypony who comes here.” I raised my hoof to protest but it was too late. Hedgerow, or whatever he had become, had noticed the glint of the weapon at his slid from its scabbard. The creature’s hiss was bone chilling enough as it was, even before it was accompanied by a howl that sounded like the gates of hell had been thrown wide open. A moment later the orange stallion launched itself at us, a razor sharp array of teeth coming onward with terrifying speed. At almost the same instant, Zip Line rocketed up into the air, leaving me barely a hair’s breadth to dodge aside before the monster was on me. I barely escaped. I felt the teeth rake down my armour as the beast passed, crashing through the rotten plant holders like they were as solid as paper. Instinctively I drew my sword and shifted my balance, turning to face him... but I was slow. Too damned slow. His movements leant speed by whatever supernatural forces held him, Hedgerow had already turned and ploughed into me so fast I was knocked effortlessly aside. All I could do was watch helplessly as my sword span away from me into the rain and mud. And then my view changed to one that made my heart freeze. All I could see was hatred, hatred and teeth, coming at me with such furious speed and aggression that I let me body react on pure instinct. I rolled away, narrowly missing the snapping jaws that would have taken my throat out in a cold and bloody spray of gore, and snatched up my mud slicked blade. My heart was hammering in my chest, my muscles tensed to painful levels, but in a flash my sword was out, the lethally sharp point all that now stood between me and a decidedly messy end. Goddesses above, when all of this madness was over I was going to have some serious words with my bloody father in law! For now though, such concerns were the last thing on my mind. The creature lunged, saw my sword, and abruptly halted its advance, swaying its head from side to side. “Corny, get away from it!” Zip Line shouted. “Head for the building!” “If I can do it without being eaten alive, sure!” I called back. “He’s a little bit pissed off right now!” “I’ll distract him, just get out of the bubble and he won’t follow you.” “Understood!” Zip Line swooped in, taking a swipe at the orange monster. The thing dodged away with ease, but the mare’s dive distracted it long enough for me to bolt for the wall. Seconds later the rain hit me full in the face, and I was damned glad of it too. Behind me the howling creature stood watching in absolute silence before slowly, deliberately, turning away. I leaned against the wall, breathing hard as Zip Line landed beside me with a thump and a blast of air from her soaked wings. She let out a breath and rubbed her eyes. “Bugger me...” “Couldn’t have put it any better myself,” I snorted. “Any ideas?” Zip Line shook her head, sheathing her sword with a wet thud. “We have to go back and report this,” she said gravely. “That thing’s way outside my job description.” The pegasus pulled off her helmet and shook out her mane. “Damn it all, how the hell are we up against a bloody Lemur?!” “I take it this isn’t what usually happens then?” I asked. “You must be kidding. No!” Zip Line closed her eyes, trying to get her breath back. “This doesn’t happen to newly deceased spirits. Not normally anyway. Why the hell wasn’t this assigned to a dangerous recovery unit?” I didn’t know myself. Somepony had messed up royally on this one and we were now left in the decidedly uncomfortable position of having to report back our failure, and on my first field trip too. Thalio would love to hear that one, and would no doubt make Zip Line’s life a misery as a result, taking every opportunity to remind her about it. There had to be something we could do. “Zip, you said that he was a… what, a corrupted soul?” I said, scratching my chin. “What are the causes of this? Isn’t there anything we can do to calm him down?” She shook her head. “Not that I know of. Lemures are usually subdued by brute force before being collected for transportation. They’re then cleansed back at the herd.” “He can obviously communicate with us,” I said thoughtfully. “If we could just reach out to him, reason with him...” “Luna’s lugs, are you mad?!” Zip Line threw up her forelegs in exasperation. “You saw what he turned into back there! He’d take us apart!” I poked my head back around the wall to stare through the unending rain. Sure enough the ‘reality bubble’ as Zip Line had called it, had returned as if the last few minutes had simply never happened. As it had been when we’d first arrived, the sun was shining once again in the powder blue sky whilst the gardener tended his magnificent blooms in that quiet little world of absolute tranquillity. Zippy was right of course, facing that ‘Lemur’ or whatever it was, was a genuinely terrifying prospect. The damned thing had moved like lightning, and I didn’t doubt for a moment that it was quite capable of taking the two of us down without even breaking a sweat. Still, it had only put in an appearance, so to speak, when the old fellow had been pushed too far. I could try to speak to him again of course, but as I knew so little about him the likelihood was he’d simply turn me away – or worse. If I had an edge, just something that could… hmm… “What?” Zip Line asked, staring at me. “You’ve got a look on your face that says you’re thinking about something. Something I probably won’t like either.” I jerked my head towards the access road. “Come on, let’s have a look in the building and see what we can dig up.” “No way!” Zip Line shook her head emphatically. “Look, no offence, Captain? But I outrank you here, and whether you like it or not protocol demands that we report this and leave it to another team to take care of.” “And just who will you report our failure to?” I asked. “Thalio, by any chance?” “No, but...” She trailed off. “Yeah.” I raised an eyebrow, fixing my gaze on the old resort building behind us. “Well, you can go back if you want, but I’m not throwing the towel in on my first day before I’ve at least made some effort to try and fix the situation. And if I fail, then at least I’ll know I’ve tried.” Zip Line’s eyes bore into mine. “You know, you’re really starting to become one serious pain in the arse, Corny.” She shoved her helmet back on her head and snorted loudly. “Well, come on then, what are you waiting for?” She began to walk towards the column lined portico. “I just know I’m going to regret this...” “What, you don’t like urban exploration?” I asked catching up with her. “I used to love poking around old buildings when I was a colt.” “You don’t say...” Zip Line muttered. “Sure. Anyway, what have we got to lose? We find nothing we go back and make our report. But if we find something that could help, then...” I left my comrade to complete the sentence however she saw fit. Zip Line was certainly no fool, even if she didn’t exactly share my optimism. Rather than answer me she simply hung her head and let me lead the way, doubtless waiting for me to fall flat on my face – metaphorically or otherwise. It wasn’t as if I knew exactly what I was going to do when we got inside either, but at least I had some idea where to start our search. All large establishments like this had them, and I could only hope that what I was looking for would still be here. The large entrance to the building was certainly unmistakable. Once upon a time it must have been quite the spectacle, giving new meaning to the words ‘grand’ and ‘imposing’. Even now the ivy covered remains of carved stone griffins flanked the wide soil strewn granite steps leading to what remained of massive wooden doors. There were four of them in total, all fitted with numerous small square panes of glass, many of which were now cracked or shattered into tiny fragments. Zip Line was right, nopony had been here in a long, long time. It looked like the place had been on fire by the looks of it too, and even age hadn’t dulled the unmistakably pungent smell of smoke that had seeped its way into the very fabric of the once grand resort for retired ponies. I pushed on one of the doors and after a little resistance it groaned open, grinding noisily against years of built up dirt, broken plaster, and wind blow detritus that had invaded the interior through the numerous holes and cracks. It was dark too, nigh on pitch black for that matter. Time for the old Fairlight party trick then! A tiny trickle of magic into my horn produced a nice flickering flame just large enough to give us some useful illumination. “Neat trick, Corny,” Zip Line observed drily. “Just make sure you don’t stand too near anything flammable, ‘kay?” I panned the flame around, illuminating the extent of the damage. “Bit late for that,” I replied gravely. The black and white tiled floor was covered in soil and glass, crunching loudly underhoof. The walls, once a brilliant white, were now peeling and showing signs of smoke damage - if the thick black marks on the tops of the door frames was any indication. I’d noticed from outside how a sizeable part of the roof was missing in the west wing of the retirement home, which I guessed was probably the centre of the blaze. The site itself was so remote that I doubted there’d been any effective fire fighting teams anywhere near that could have been of help in tackling the blaze until it was already eating its way through the structure. Evens so, here and there were signs that some efforts had been made to save the building. Abandoned buckets, hazard tape and fire extinguishers, lay abandoned, slowly being claimed by the same encroachment of nature that was overtaking what was once a thriving sanctuary of light and laughter. At least, judging by the faded paintings and posters that littered the walls. It was a strange mix of classical building style and light hearted cheer that some might have found chaotic. Personally, I found it rather charming. I stared up at one of the posters: The Big Horn boys invite you to an evening of old west magic and song that will take your breath away! Join in the action, excitement and songs of the frontier as we bring the past to life! Tickets available at reception. “I wonder if it was worth seeing,” Zip Line asked. She walked up next to me, gazing at the poster that showed images of buffalo in traditional war paint and head-dress engaged in some bizarre acts with ponies that involved burning hoops, bows, and apples. Lots and lots of apples. Very odd. Still, it probably would have been fun to watch back in the day. Of course, the herd had more than its fair share of events too, but they did tend to err on the side of… stuffy. Was that the word? Yeah, definitely stuffy. “It was probably was,” I said quietly. “You sure don’t get shows like that nowadays.” I turned away and walked over to the reception desk. It was mostly clear, but here and there was the odd piece of mouldering paper that was still legible, including the occasional letter that had never been opened by its intended recipient. I picked up one of them and read the address. Gladstone Banks Room 106 Polston Retirement Resort Foal Falls FF12 1AO It was still sealed. Whoever Gladstone had been he’d never had a chance to receive his mail, let alone open it before the fire had swept through his home. I put it to one side and walked around to the side of the large desk, lifted up the hatch, and walked through a small sea of discarded keys that clinked and rattled against my hooves. Zip Line shivered. “Be careful!” She closed her eyes and nickered quietly. “Goddesses, I don’t like it here at all. Place gives me the bloody creeps.” “Knock it off, Zip,” I huffed, “you’re making me nervous.” I moved the small flame over my head, illuminating the cupboards and pigeon holes, looking for what I hoped would be there. Every hotel and resort I knew of had one of them, and this surely must have. My hooves brushed lightly across the shelves, feeling for- “Aha!” Something big, heavy, and decidedly ‘ledgery’ snagged beneath my touch. With a heave the massive old book slid out of its ancient hiding place, and I plopped it down in a whoosh of dust on the heavy marble desktop. “What’s that?” Zip Line asked, moving closer. “What I was hoping we’d find.” I hovered my flame over the huge book and turned the page. “It’s the resort register,” I explained. “It should have a list of all the comings and goings of ponies here, including the residents.” “You’re thinking Hedgerow will be in there?” she asked. “I am.” “But what will that prove?” Zip Line frowned in thought, narrowing her eyes as she stared at the worn hoofwriting. “We know he was a resident here.” I ran my hoof down the last of the entries and worked my way back. Day after day, weeks, months, even years were recorded here in exacting detail. “I know,” I said, waving her concerns aside. “Hedgerow must have had a room here and… hang on… got it!” I turned to the wall behind me where some keys still remained. “Room 47.” There, on the large rack, was a gap where the key for Hedgerow’s room would have hung. “Damn it!” “Maybe he was in when the fire happened?” Zip Line reasoned. “Or it’s on the floor somewhere in that mess.” She had a point. I shook my head and looked towards the stairs. “Well I’m buggered if I’m going to hunt through that lot. Besides, I have a feeling we may not be needing it.” “Why’s that?” Zip Line asked. “Room 47 is in the west wing.” My companion followed my gaze to the brass plaque that still clearly read: Rooms 1 – 50 First Floor. “Oh that’s just bloody marvellous.” My companion adjusted her helmet, “Well, what are you waiting for mister ‘urban explorer’? Whip out your fancy magic flame wotsit and lead the way.” She smirked as I passed her. “Am I missing something funny?” I asked. “Nah, not really,” Zip Line teased. “Just if the ceiling falls in or the floor collapses, you’ll get clobbered first.” “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I replied tartly. “You’re welcome.” “Least you can float over the ground,” I pointed out as we walked up the creaking stairs. “But watch your head up there. If there’s anything loose even the slightest bump could bring the whole lot down on us.” “A real little ray of sunshine, aren’t you?” Zip Line huffed sarcastically. “Of course I’ll be careful! I’m more worried about you.” I gave her what I hoped was a reassuring wink, but I was becoming increasingly unsure of what we were getting ourselves into. The hazard warning tape had obviously been put there for a reason, and here we were creeping along like thieves in the night. And night it was. It was bitterly cold in here, the silent rows of radiators long since past the time when they’d added warmth for the benefit of the residents. There was nopony here now, nor even any wildlife either which I thought was especially odd. The old buildings I’d poked around as a colt had been quickly overtaken by the steady encroachment of plant life, as well as birds, rodents, and even larger animals in some cases. Here there was a distinct lack of anything living at all, and by the looks of it we were likely the first ones here since the fire. Everywhere I looked lay the evidence of a hasty evacuation. Clothes, half rotted or burned, lay scattered on the floor in the empty bedrooms we passed. Doors hung open, personal possessions and trinkets dropped where they had fallen as their owners fled the approaching smoke and flames. The ceiling bore witness to the intensity of the fire, and also showed considerable water damage from the attempts to put it out. Mouldy walls and sodden wallpaper vied for attention with the peeling and blackened paintwork. Wind pulled at my mane and made the flame flicker crazily, tugged by errant air currents sneaking in through the open windows and the occasional hole in the roof. Throughout everything though was the interminable stench of smoke and burnt wood. It was a scene that conjured images in my mind of the sheer terror the residents must have faced as the flames began to consume the resort’s main building. Screams, shouting, smoke, coughing… Judging by the amount of bed clothes strewn throughout the rotting hallway, the fire must have happened during the night when most of the residents were asleep. I could only hope that most of them, if not all, had managed to escape. I was still wondering about the fate of these poor souls when a female shriek of fright made me spin round in alarm. “Snake! SNAKE!!!” The armoured mare’s eyes were as wide as saucers as she flew off down the corridor the way we came. In an instant my sword was out, the flame above me brightening in intensity as I panned it around the blackened corridor. “Zip! Where is it?” I shouted. “Where’s the snake?” “By the door! Be careful!” came the echoed reply. “Which door? Bloody hell, Zip, I can’t- DAMN IT!” I was slow. Careless. I would never have allowed myself to be taken by surprise like this in my youth, and a new body as well as the months of easy living courtesy of the eternal herd had done nothing to sharpen my once well honed senses either. I’d become lazy, and my foolish assumption that no living creatures had made this burned out wreck of a building their home had lead me to this moment. The snake dropped heavily across my shoulders and carried me to the filth strew floor in an instant. Winded, the light from my flame went out, plunging me into absolute darkness. Desperately I hacked at the thing with my sword, but the damned creature was as tough as old boot leather. In the darkness of that stinking filth strewn corridor the vile thing spat venom at me, and I gasped in shock as it hit the corner of my eye. Furious with myself I rolled, trying to get the reptile off me and do my best to prevent it from coiling itself around my body and crushing me to death. I’d heard of these beasts before, the large anacondas that lived in the swamplands and great forests of Equestria. They would grab you, coil around your body, and squeeze; a final crushing embrace that stopped your lungs from pulling in that most precious of elements. Memories of nearly drowning as a foal assailed me: the sound of water, the water burning in my throat and lungs, the image of my father pulling me out. Damn it, no… NO! I wasn’t going to go out like this! Not like this! I struggled, grabbing the elusive thing in my teeth and used my magic to find the creature’s body where I could use the point of my sword to best effect. There! I pushed down and heaved my full weight onto the hilt. With all my strength I rammed the length of polished steel into the bright red monster’s body, pinning it to the blackened floor. It was silent. Had I killed it? Goddesses, I had to get away from the thing! What if it was poisonous? Even badly injured it could still pose a threat. I couldn’t see the snake’s head, but I managed to kick out and slip the coils from around myself before I was able to stand back and magic the flame into existence once more. Sure enough, my opponent lay motionless amongst the detritus on the blackened floor. No more would it attack ponies... nor even fires for that matter… “Did you get it?” the voice called from along the corridor. “Is it safe?” “Yeah.” I reached down and yanked my sword free of the creature’s body. “One monster down, one to go.” A pair of blue eyes glinting in the light of my flame drew nearer. “You’re sure it’s dead though, right? Absolutely sure? Goddesses, I hate snakes!” “Oh, I think I can safely say it’s dead, Zippy.” I reached down and picked up the things head. “Look out! SSSSS!!!” “Ahhh!” Zip Line’s shriek echoed down the corridor/ “What are you doing you stupid arse! Its… Its… hang on...” “Yeah.” I tossed her the large bronze fire hose nozzle. “Had me going for a while there too.” “You rotten sod, you scared the crap out of me!” Zip Line swallowed. “That wasn’t fair, Corny!” “You’re the one who said it was a snake,” I reminded her. “I thought the damned thing was going to kill me.” “Huh! Going by all the grunting and yelling you were making I thought so too,” she nickered. “Aye, and thanks for the help too by the way.” I turned back and resumed walking towards the elusive room forty seven. My companion caught up quickly. “Well, I… I would have helped you know. I was just waiting for the right moment to strike, that was all.” “And I suppose your fear of fire hoses – sorry - ‘snakes’, had absolutely nothing to do with it. Am I right?” I asked pointedly. “No!” Zip Line held up her hooves, “No, I…” She sighed and flopped down to the ground beside me. “Yes...” “Don’t sweat it.” I waved a hoof, brushing aside the matter. “We all have things that freak us out.” There was a long pause. Zip Line was clearly embarrassed by the matter, but in fairness to her I was the one who’d ended up being ‘attacked’ by a bloody fire hose in the first place. Some warrior I turned out to be! I ducked under a collapsed roof beam, careful not to disturb anything so far as I could. Who knew what other surprises lurked in this mess? “Corny?” “Hmm?” I squeezed past a cracked section of wall. “What freaks you out?” Zip Line asked. “Me?” I shrugged. “Spiders. And celery.” “Celery?!” Zip Line’s hearty chuckle was like a magic charm in that dark place. It felt out of place in such scene of devastation and misery, but also strangely warming. “How can anypony be afraid of a vegetable?” I laughed quietly. “Guess that’s just one of the many weird things that makes me who I am.” I paused. “Hold up, we’re here.” Zip Line fluttered down to land next to me and leaned in closer. “Forty seven,” she said quietly. “Hedgerow’s room.” “Yeah...” The door was open, barely, and showed signs of being forced. The wood around the lock was split and there were dents in the wooden panels from what looked like hooves. I pushed the door and managed to get it to move, barely. What seemed like furniture and clothes had been piled up on the inside, blocking it from being opened enough to allow us through. “Zip, give me a hoof here.” The two of us pushed as hard as we could. Unexpectedly, water, fire damage and the ravages of time, came to our aid. Whatever was on the other side of the door groaned, split, and squelched as we put our shoulders into it. “Once more,” I said, steeling myself. “Ready?” I glanced at my friend who nodded in response. “Okay. One, two, three… heave!” There was a horrible cacophony of sound from behind the door as it finally gave way, nearly pitching me muzzle first through the opening. My hooves skittered across the wet floor and I could feel myself losing balance. “Whoa! I gotcha.” Zip Line’s blue eye’s blinked in the light from my flame as she caught me. With a deep sigh of relief I nodded my thanks. I certainly didn’t relish the prospect of falling into whatever ambiguous mess awaited us on the other side. It was cold, wet, and decidedly miserable enough as it was in this gloomy place without coating myself with even more filth than I already had. I brushed at my armour. Yup, it was going to take hours to get this clean… “Can you see anything?” Zip Line asked. I cast my flame before me, careful not to let it ruin my night vision. Lowering the intensity helped reduce the shadows to some degree but had the unfortunate side effect of narrowing the pool of light. Still, it looked safe enough so far as I could tell. At some point in the past part of the ceiling had come in and I could see stars through the gaping hole in the roof beyond. Everything else was black in here. From the bed to the walls, even the cabinets and paintings, everything was smoke and heat damaged. Taken as a whole the overall effect was like standing in the middle of a furnace. If anything living had been in here when the fire swept through there was no hope it could have survived. I could only pray that the smoke had taken them before the flames. I knew something of that myself. I could remember the smoke, the flickering yellow flames, and the light in Meadow’s eyes fading before me. They had taken her and Sparrow from me. Stolen my beloved and- “There’s another door.” Zip Line’s voice made me twitch involuntarily. “You okay?” she asked. “Yeah.” I lifted my flame and saw the door she alluded to. “Maybe it’s just another snake.” “Ha!” Zip Line trotted up and tried the door handle. “Bugger. It’s stuck.” In a flash I span and bucked out at the door which gave with a loud crack as the lock burst from the weakened and blackened wood. “Might want to work on that anger management there, Corny,” Zip Line quipped. She moved ahead of me, peering into the darkness beyond. I floated over the flame so she could see better and Zippy quickly waved me over. “Look there. Think that’s our angry Lemur?” I looked down at the pile of blackened bones in the corner of the bathroom, feeling my mouth go dry. Towels had been soaked and pressed up against the door to stop the smoke, but it had been too little, far, far too late. “Blessed goddesses...” I breathed. “They just… left him here.” “That explains a lot then,” Zip Line said quietly. “Poor sod must have been forgotten about in the panic.” “They could have come back and recovered the remains,” I replied. “They could have given the poor sod a decent Equestrian burial. Why the hell did they leave him? I don’t understand.” “There are some things I guess we never will,” Zip Line said sadly. “Maybe they made a mistake and ticked him off the list. Maybe they did come back in here but just didn’t spot him. You’ve seen the mess this place is in.” “I know, it’s just...” I took a breath and sighed loudly. “It’s wrong, Zippy. All of this, it’s just...” I closed my eyes. “Zip?” My colleague was leaning down to examine the bones and was staring at a bowl beside them on the floor. “Yeah?” “Can you… can you look at my hind leg a moment,” I swallowed. “Please.” “Eh? Your hind leg? Why?” “There’s something moving.” Zip Line’s eyes went wide, reflecting the firelight and adding all the more to my barely restrained urge to buck out and charge for the door. “Oh!” she exclaimed suddenly. “Look, it’s a little cat!” “A cat?” My neck felt like it had turned to stone, but I finally managed to force it to bend to my will and there, sure enough, was a little black and white patched cat. “Oh goddesses...” I licked my lips and swallowed. “I nearly soiled myself.” “You big baby!” Zip Line reached out to our unexpected feline companion. “Hello puss! What are you doing here, eh? Aren’t you beautiful! Yes, you are!” “Oh, please...” I stayed where I was, conscious of the fact that equine hooves didn’t go well with soft paws, and the way the friendly little fellow was rubbing around me I was going to have to move him out of the way if I was going to be able to do anything of any use here. “Zip, can you move him out of the way while I find something to put these in?” I asked. “Put these…?” Zip Line looked up at me. “What? You’re not thinking of doing what I think you’re doing, are you?” “He needs a proper burial,” I said. “I may not be the best in the world for that, but we can make the effort at least.” “You’re weren’t a priest as well in your previous life were you?” My comrade reached down and tickled the cat under the chin. “We could cock the whole thing up and make matters worse. Disturbing the bones of the dead can have unforeseen ramifications.” I paused. “What sort of ramifications?” I asked curiously. “Well… um, I’m not exactly...” Zip Line frowned. “Look, I can’t remember right this second, okay? Just… just do what you’re doing and let’s get out of here. I can’t stand this place. My furs black, my armours black, and I stink too!” “Don’t have to tell me twice,” I replied. I looked around and made my choice. With a heavy pull the shower curtain which had miraculously escaped relatively unscathed for some reason, came away from the rail with a clatter of pinging clips. “Here, give me a hoof will you.” To her credit, Zip Line put aside her distaste for such a vile job without another word. And so the two of us carefully, and as reverently as possible in the circumstances, collected each blackened bone and placed it in the centre of the shower curtain. As we worked the cat watched us out of the corner of its eye, washing himself, or herself. I was never that good at identifying cat genders. It wasn’t that I didn’t like cats, far from it in fact, it was just that my relatives had so many of the things that I must have reached saturation point due to the innumerable visits my parents forced me to make to Aunt Pewter’s. The cats themselves certainly had no trouble determining which was male and which was female considering the explosion in the feline population at the small home. And that’s another thing, you never forget the smell of unwashed litter trays. This little thing however was all alone here, and watching our every move. Oh, he may have been washing his face and looking cute and calm in that effortless manner all cats have, but I could sense as much as see the scrutiny we were under as we worked. A shame he couldn’t have given us a helping paw really. And so, piece by grim piece, the sad and pitiful remnants of what had once been a living, breathing creature, were packed up, tied up, and placed on my back. Obviously they couldn’t go on Zip Line’s back because she had wings and needed them to fly... apparently. A point she made several times in fact. I didn’t mind, Hedgerow weighed about as much as a pillow now, and if this small inconvenience to me could put this old fellow to rest then it was more than worth it. Much, much more. “Did you hear that?” Zip Line asked quietly. I shifted the load on my back and looked back at her. “What?” “Shhh! Listen!” I strained my hearing and could hear something. I couldn’t quite make out what it was, but there was definitely something. A… a groaning sound? Moaning… no, a creaking of- “Ohhh, SHIT!” Zip Line threw herself across the room, the cat leaping out of the way with a yowl and my legs shoving me up and away as a gigantic crack began to race up the wall, coursing across the ceiling and down the other side. Thick chunks of rotten plaster and paint rained down on us like massive snowflakes, pinging off our armour as though we were in some crazy indoor hailstorm. “Corny! We have to get out of here,” Zip shouted. “The whole place is coming down!” I didn’t doubt Zip Line’s words. Judging by the deep resounding crashes and roars, it sounded like we were in the middle of an avalanche. We dragged ourselves bodily against the enormous vibrations to the door and saw the hole where the floor had been, now only a massive black chasm of broken beams and falling tiles. “Can you fly out?” I shouted over the deafening noise. Zip Line shook her head, “There’s too much debris! And I’m not leaving you here!” “Don’t be so bloody obstinate!” I yelled. “You can fly and get help, I’ll find my own way out.” “If I try and fly in the pitch black through that,” she replied, “I doubt either of us will. No, we stay together, and that’s that!” I wasn’t in the mood to argue, and the sound of the old building’s death throws were coming louder and more frequent now. I could hear bricks, probably the walls themselves, falling away into the open air whilst wooden beams were bent beyond breaking point, giving way with a gut wrenching splintering sound that echoed around us. I looked further up the corridor, away from where most of the sound was coming from, but also where the fire had been at its most intense. It wasn’t much of a choice. Meow “Corny, the cat!” Zippy suddenly cried. “We can’t leave it here!” “I’m more bothered about us right now!” I shouted. “I’m sure the cat’s more capable of taking care of himself than we are.” She shook her head. “No, I mean, I think it wants us to follow it!” “Oh for… are you nuts?!” I stared at the cat. The cat stared back. It moved away a little, looked back, meowed, and then walked away again. “I don’t believe I’m even considering this...” I stared at Zip Line and then back to the cat. “Okay, it’s official, I’m nuts. We’re all raving bloody nuts!” I reared and nickered loudly, “Let’s move!” The cat broke into a loping run, effortlessly leaping over broken beams and pillars as I ran behind and Zip Line flew above. The magical flame I kept ahead of us all, allowing us just enough time to spot hazards and clear them. I ran on, following the mysterious feline. Leaping gaping black holes in the floor, dodging collapsed walls and sharp splintered beams and joists, the hallway felt like it was going on forever. But behind us the sounds of the dying resort built up into a howling cacophony, a crescendo of despair and bone crushing death that leant speed to my legs. I could feel a tingle of fear burning in my spine and down my thighs, as though though the icy claws of the reaper were catching up to me, desperate to drag me down into the depths of Tartarus. Goddesses, what had I done to deserve this?! My breathing was quickly becoming laboured, the adrenalin in my veins clouding my judgement and taking control, making my leaps and dodges more instinctual than conscious. I gave it full rein. To try and think now, to attempt to reason, was akin to suicide. In battle you acted and reacted, you didn’t sit there and think, you didn’t have the time to reason out what to do next - you simply acted. Your experience, your skill and your strength, were what kept you alive. And speed. Dear goddesses, I don’t think I’ve ever run so hard in my life! Or death... “There’s a window up ahead!” Zip Line shouted. Suddenly she shot ahead, hovering over the open portal. “We can get out here!” “We’re on the first bloody floor!” I yelled. “It doesn’t matter!” Zip Line stared past me, her eyes wide. “There won’t be a floor in a minute! Jump!” In a heartbeat she was outside, the cat following, and me… goddesses grant me mercy… I dug my hooves in and leaped. I felt that horrible moment of weightlessness, of falling, the ground disappearing into darkness, my armour catching on something that shrieked past me and then being grabbed, slipping, falling again, and then… nothing. ******************** Grass. Grass, leaves and soil. Not exactly the sort of things you expect to find in your mouth when you wake up, especially when you haven’t been drinking the night before. I spat them out and felt somepony stroking my mane and cooing softly. It reminded me of waking in the morning to my beautiful wife gazing into my eyes, and her soft, gentle lips… “Corny?” “Who?” I opened my eyes, blinking in surprise as- “Ow! Oooh, my bloody head!” “Yeah, about that.” Zip Line motioned to a dark shape on a darker background. After a moment my vision began to clear and I could make out what looked to be some sort of outbuilding beneath the gable end of the main building. What was left of it anway. “Seems you don’t bounce,” she finished. “No...” I tried to stand but my head and back felt like I’d been run over by runaway cart. “Damn it!” “Try not to move too much. You fell quite a ways.” Zip Line’s face told its own story. A nasty cut over her eye had stained her white fur red where the helmet didn’t cover. I reached up and caught her as she tried to pull away. “What are you-?” “You’re hurt,” I said, taking off my panniers. They were scuffed, scratched, but the medical kit inside was thankfully intact. “Take your helmet off and let me have a look at you.” She didn’t argue. Zip Line winced as she took off the burnished helm and put it down by her side. Almost instantly her fur changed from white to coal black with the white markings I’d seen the first time we’d met in the barrack room. Her blue mane changed too, from blue to a two toned pink whilst her eyes remained pretty much the same. If anything they seemed even more blue than they had even with the magic of the armour. I moved closer, ignoring my own pains and conjured up the flame once more. “Never thought I’d be that glad of a bit of magic,” she murmured. “I don’t like the dark.” “Mmhmm. Hold still.” Zip Line hissed in pain as I moved closer to her and plucked the piece of glass out with my lips. Carefully I ran my tongue into the wound to check for other debris. Fortunately it looked like that was the last of it, and I took out my canteen to pour some water over the cut. Zip Line moaned beneath me ministrations. “You okay down there?” I asked. “Mmm...” “Nearly done,” I assured her. I found the bottle of antiseptic spray and patches that came with each kit. They were imbued with some form of magic, and certainly did the job well enough. One quick spritz of the spray later, one applied patch, and the indomitable Zip Line was breathing easier. “You’ve… got quite the touch there, Corny,” she smiled faintly. I grinned, “You too. My head feels… well, fine now really.” Zip Line suddenly shifted closer. “You can’t be, you had a hell of bang back there. Bust a couple of ribs at least.” I felt down my side and shook my head. “Nope, feel fine.” I shrugged, “That’s the benefit of eternal herd magic, I suppose.” “But we’re not in the eternal herd!” Zip Line hissed. She moved around me, checking the bandages she’d put on me whilst I’d been out cold. “I don’t understand it,” she mumbled, “your injuries… they’re nearly all healed!” “So are yours.” I pointed to the patch on her head. “Magically imbued, remember?” “I… guess so.” Zip Line shook her head in confusion. “Anyway, you stay here and I’ll-” “We do this together,” I said standing up. My ribs did twinge, I’ll give her that, but I was mercifully in one piece. I hoped! I left my armour to one side though; no sense aggravating any existing injuries be they noticeable or not. I’d obviously launched myself out of the window and, somewhere along the line, bounced off the roof of the tool shed. Zip Line hadn’t said it but I knew she’d tried to catch me and I’d slipped out of her grasp. She was lucky she hadn’t been dragged down with me. I knew all too well how pegasi could break their wings from talking with my friends in the tribe. Grimble may have been a griffin, but even his strong wings had been beaten about in his time. I remember how we’d laughed about it while sinking a bottle or two of his speciality brandy, sitting in front of the fire place in the old Wyvern’s Tail. Celestia… how long had it been now? I hadn’t thought about my extended family in such a long time. I felt nostagic, but also… shame. I should have done more, for all of them. “Where are we going to bury these bones?” Zip Line asked, interrupting my ruminations. I dragged over the tied up shower curtain and stared at. Miraculously the thing had survived with its contents intact. Not only was it fireproof, it was idiot jumping out of a window proof too apparently. I’d have to find out who made these and get some for the tribe. The bloody things would make fantastic armour. Flicking a piece of masonry from my mane I felt as much as saw the movement in the grass ahead of us. It was the cat. Once again the peculiar feline seemed to be wanting us to follow it, and who the hell was I to argue? I shrugged, “I guess we follow the cat.” “Sure, why not?” Zip Line groaned, falling into step beside me as I picked up the bundle of bones in my magic. “It’s not like tonight could get any weirder.” “What, a night out beneath the stars and a moonlit stroll?” I asked. “What’s not to like?” Zip Line tossed her head, “Hmph! Well at least its stopped raining.” “There you go,” I said happily/ “Every cloud has a silver lining after all.” “Are you always this optimistic?” she asked. I couldn’t help but raise a smile. “Nope. I guess you just bring out the worst in me, Zippy.” “Oh… belt up!” She playfully clopped my rump. “Hey look, he’s stopped by that tree standing on its own over there.” I lifted my head and focussed on the tree. Sure enough the cat had stopped by what looked like an old ash tree and was pawing at the ground there. He wasn’t trying to dig, more sort of… indicating. What an odd little thing he was. I put down my makeshift bag and set off back to the tool shed. “Hey, where are you going?” Zip Line asked anxiously. “I need a shovel. Hang on.” I trotted back to the place that had ‘helped’ break my fall and was relieved to find the door unlocked. It was dark and dusty inside, but there was a goodly array of tools, buckets, watering cans, and a vast array of plant pots left behind by the previous owners – possibly even Hedgerow himself. Thick cobwebs covered everything now. Countless generations of spiders had made their home in here, but thankfully in the darkness I couldn’t see them too closely. A brief look round revealed just what I was looking for too - a particularly solid looking spade which would do the job nicely. Moments later I was back by my relieved looking friend. “Don’t do that again!” Zip Line groused. “Every time you bugger off the light goes with you.” “Why didn’t you bring a lantern then?” I asked. “They issue the bloody things, don’t they?” “Of course they do!” Zip Line snapped. “But I needed the batteries for something else and they… kind of went flat.” I rolled my eyes and began to dig. “What was so important you used your torch batteries for it?” I asked, heaving another shovel full out of the hole. “Well…” “Come on now, I promise I won’t tell.” Zip Line sighed. “My straighteners.” “Huh?” I paused and looked up at her. “What, for your mane and tail?” “Of course for my mane and tail!” Zip Line snorted and flopped onto her haunches, crossing her forelegs in a huff. “You stallions don’t know how good you’ve got it. Mares have to look good when they go out you know. And it’s not easy either.” “You don’t have to make yourself look good,” I said, wiping the sweat from my brow. “That’s a choice, not a requirement.” “Easy for you to say!” Zip Line nickered. “A quick wash, brush your hair, shirt and tie, and voilà! All done. Not so for a lady like myself you know. I have to watch what shampoos I use, what soaps, hoof oils, conditioners, curlers, straighteners-” “Kitchen sink...” “-kitchen… hey! It’s not funny!” “I never said it was!” I barked out a laugh and dodged an incoming swipe. “Sorry! Sorry!” I laughed. “I’m just teasing. Anyway, we’re done.” I climbed out of the hole. “Give me a hoof with this, Zippy.” “Ew!” She closed her eyes, sighed, and then reached over to help me untie the old shower curtain and slide the bones into the shallow grave. “So… what now?” I took a deep breath, leaning the spade against the tree. “We give him a burial as best we can,” I said honestly. “If that doesn’t work… Well, plan B I suppose.” Carefully we arranged the bones and sprinkled the soil back over them until they were completely covered by a mound of the rich, dark earth. Throughout it all the glinting green eyes of the cat watched us. Every movement. Every shovel of earth. Until it was done. I moved away and motioned Zip Line to stand beside me. Carefully I sat down on my haunches and looked up at the sky. The moon was out now, and as beautiful as it had ever been. In this light I didn’t need the magical flame and so released my grip upon it, sending us into the wan light of the goddess’s moon. “Luna,” I began. “Goddess of the moon, Princess of the night, and mother of our dreams. Hear my prayer. Here lies the mortal remains of your departed son, Hedgerow. We know very little about him, only that he was a good stallion, and one who took great joy in all things that grow beneath your loving radiance. He had dwelt here in darkness and in fear, far away from your light and guidance, lost in a world not of his making. We ask you now, dear mother, to take your son home. Show him the way to the eternal love of the herd, to those who will mend his heart and help him find a new home, a new place, in the safety and joy of those who have gone before.” I took a breath. “Blessed goddess, take unto your side on this night the soul of Hedgerow, son of Equestria. Blessed be thy name, Luna, my goddess of the moon.” Silence fell. “That was very moving,” Zip Line said quietly. “I don’t know if it worked, but I think… I think anypony would have found your words genuinely touching.” “Yeah...” I smiled sadly, “I hope you’re right.” “Guess we’d better go and see whether our boy has moved on then.” Zip Line stood up, brushing the loose earth from her legs. “I haven’t heard Luna referred to as ‘Goddess of the Moon’ for a long time, Corny. Have you, you know, had to do this before?” “Too many times,” I said grimly. “When you bury your brothers and sisters on the field there’s not often time for the luxury of a priest. I think though, that it’s enough that you remember them in your heart, and say your farewells through your deeds more than words.” “Very profound.” Zip Line shivered and looked up at the moon. “Goddess of the moon, eh? Can’t say that I ever...” “Ever what?” I turned round to see Zip Line standing as still as a stone, her eyes glinting in shock and her mouth twitching. “N...N….Nightm… m… Nightmare Moon!” “Not quite.” A pair of deep azure eyes gleamed in the darkness as the owner approached, settling her wings by her side. The mare walked past us both to stand by the grave, her cutie mark clear even here. “Hedgerow...” I bowed, bumping Zip Line out of her shock to do the same. “Your Majesty.” Princess Luna nodded slowly and turned to face us. “It pleases us to see thee again, Lord Fairlight.” I reached out and took her hoof for light kiss. “As it pleases me to see you again, my lady.” “And who is this?” “Z… Z… Zip… Zip Line. Y… Your majesty!” Zip Line gabbled. “I see.” The princess looked us both up and down, noting the pile of armour. “You have joined the royal guard I see.” I nodded, “Yes, your majesty.” “I see.” Princess Luna leaned her head to one side, checking to make sure Zip Line couldn’t hear us. “Fairlight, how have you been? I heard what happened in Smiling Borders and I arrived as soon as I could.” She hung her head sadly. “There was… nothing I could do. Nothing any of us could do.” “I understand, your majesty.” I gave her a smile. “Are my family well?” “They are,” Luna said quietly. “The village is doing well, and more come every day.” “More?” I frowned in thought. “But-” “These are things for another time, Fairlight.” The princess motioned towards Zip Line who was stood watching intently nearby. “For now, I can only say that your loved ones are safe and the tribe prospers.” “But-” “I know you have questions, and I wish I could answer them,” the princess explained, “but the longer I stay here the more chance I have of father discovering our conversation.” Luna closed her eyes and smiled grimly. “Your father?” I asked. “Father does not like Celestia or I… ‘interfering’ in the affairs of his domain – the eternal herd.” Luna shrugged demurely. “But tonight, I have made an exception.” I glanced at Zip Line, keeping my voice low. “How did you know I was here?” “I am the princess of the night remember?” Luna said gently. “I can see the dreams of all of my children, and although I may not always answer, I hear every heartfelt prayer.” She gazed at the grave. “Poor Hedgerow. Such a sad and frightening way to die.” “But why was he left here, tethered to this world?” I asked. Luna shook her head, letting the night breeze catch her starry mane. “I don’t have the answers to everything, dear Fairlight. As much as you appear to believe I do.” She rolled her shoulders and glanced up at the moon. “It is time for me to leave. Go speak to Hedgerow, the poison has left his soul. He will go with you now.” “Won’t you come with us to speak to him?” I asked. “He’s more likely to listen to you than us.” Luna shook her head, “Remember, Fairlight, I cannot interfere in the world of my father. Souls, death, and the afterlife, are all things that belong to him, and my mother. I only came to speak to you and to place my blessings upon Hedgerow to help him on his way to the herd. For now, my dear Lord Fairlight, we must part. May the gods be with you. Both of you.” She nodded to Zip Line who babbled something incomprehensible before kissing me on the forehead. “Fare thee well.” I bowed respectfully, “Farewell, my lady.” And with that and a single sweep on her magnificent midnight wings, the princess of the night flew effortlessly into the night sky, and was gone. “That was… That was Luna! Princess Luna!” Zip Line breathed, staring after the princess. “I don’t believe it!” “And I suggest this is never mentioned in any report either,” I replied levelly. “Princess Luna would not be happy.” “No! No… My lips are sealed, mum’s the word, and...” She frowned at me suddenly. “I think we have a lot to talk about later.” “Later,” I agreed. “For now we’d better get master Hedgerow on his way. Luna said that the poison has been purged from his soul, so now it should plain sailing. Hopefully.” “Ha! You heard the old sod earlier,” Zip Line huffed. “He’s obsessed with his garden.” I shrugged, “I know, but let me have a shot at it. Please?” “Sure, why not? It’s not like I’ve been much help so far is it? So much for being the experienced one!” Zip Line snorted. “I’ve mucked the whole job up from start to bloody finish and ruined everything.” “What are you talking about?” I asked in surprise. “We’re a team.” “Yeah, and I was supposed to be training you and supporting you on your first mission,” Zip Line replied. “If it wasn’t for you I would have been back at the herd reporting our failure.” I closed my eyes and shook my head. I knew where she was coming from, but I needed to keep her positive. “Zippy, I was in the watch,” I explained. “Investigations were what I did all day, five days a week. Bloody hell, all I did was take a guess that looking in Hedgerow’s room might give us an idea of what to do and nearly got us both killed in the process. We got lucky, that was all. If it wasn’t for you I wouldn’t have had a clue what do to in the first place, and that Lemur thing could have killed me. Not to mention the fact that you saved my bacon when I flew out the window, so don’t run yourself down again, okay?” “Humph! Okay...” She suddenly jabbed me in chest, “Now put your armour on and let’s finish our job. And I can assure you, Mister Corn Bread, that we will be talking more later. Okay?” I nodded, “Understood.” With help from my comrade I clipped on the last of my armour, but it sure as hell wasn’t easy. It had more dents in it now than I cared to imagine and was pushing in against my side where I’d slammed into the tool shed roof. Unfortunately that only served to remind me that I hadn’t healed quite as well as I thought I had. Still, a little pushing and pulling sorted that out the best we could, and it would do until we could get back to the barracks for a proper repair. And a cup of tea; I was parched. The taste of burnt wood haunted my nostrils and throat horribly, and I couldn’t even begin to imagine the dreadful fate that poor Hedgerow had endured, trapped in his bathroom refuge as the fire raged around him. I gave myself a hard shake, pushing the frightening imagery away and looked back at the cat who was watching me with his baleful green eyes. He knew. Somehow I could tell that somewhere in that feline mind, the odd little creature knew exactly what had occurred. Zip Line and I walked over to the surreal sight of the little bubble of sunshine surrounded by the darkness of night once again. “Well, over to you Captain.” Zip Line held out a hoof. “Go do your thing.” Sarcasm notwithstanding, I gave my colleague a polite nod and walked into the sunlight of Hedgerow’s world. Inside, the scent of flowers and rich earth assailed me once more. It was, in its own particular way, a little slice of heaven that Hedgerow had made for himself here. He was stood very much as he had been when I first saw him, watering his blooms and carefully checking each one with a faint smile on his face. He loved his garden, and it was this love that was as much an anchor to this world as his bones in a way. I sighed and looked down at my armour. I knew what to do. Slowly and carefully I began to remove the armour I’d painstaking put back on, shrugging out of it and placing it to one side. I could almost hear the protests of Zip Line outside this tiny world raging at me for ‘not following protocol’ or some such nonsense. Anyway, my mind was made up. I picked up a small dibber from his tool trolley and walked over to one of the unplanted beds. Carefully, respectfully, I took one of the small flowers from the trolley and lowered it into the hole I’d made, brushing the earth around it and packing it down gently. Hedgerow lifted an eyebrow but didn’t look up from his work. “Yer ‘ere again oi see.” “Aye.” “You that thar feller from orlier?” he asked in his west country drawl. I nodded, “I am, aye.” “Where’s yor lass then?” “She’s waiting,” I said politely. I took another of the flowers from the trolley. “These are snapdragons aren’t they?” “Aye.” Hedgerow put down his watering can and watched me curiously. “You be a gardnin’ fella then?” I smiled. “I’ll confess I only started recently. I have a little cottage with my wife and daughter. The sun bathes the garden in the morning where I’ve planted carnations, roses, gardenias, and some lupins.” “Lupins?” Hedgerow frowned in thought for a moment. “Can take o’er yer garden if yer not careful.” “I know,” I replied softly, “but the colours complement the garden and brighten it as much as the sun.” “Good fer’t soil yer know.” “Aye. I thought I may plant some marrows and a pear tree next next year too.” “A pear tree, eh?” Hedgerow put his watering can down and chuckled under his breath. “Moi Hatty and oi planted that tree thar yer know.” He motioned over to where we’d buried his pitiful remains. “Oi looked arftur it all these years. Looked arftur the beds too, but younger folks… well, they aint so keen on gardnin’. Let the whole lart go ter seed, bloody ‘ooligans.” “You’ve done a wonderful job, Hedgerow,” I observed honestly. “The garden looks beautiful.” “Aye… as much as what oi can see, I ‘spose.” He looked down at the cat winding itself around his legs. “’ello Poppy.” The old stallion smiled, “Arftur Hatty passed on there were only li’l Poppy to keeps me comp’ny. Poor lil moit. Oi never faand aat what ‘appened to ‘er. Not arftur… thart ‘appened.” “She helped us find you,” I replied, “In the bathroom.” I hung my head a moment, trying to keep my bubbling emotions at bay. “She’s an amazing animal.” “Aye, she is thart.” The orange stallion leaned down and tickled the cat under the chin, eliciting a happy chirrup and purr from the happy feline. I stood and watched, letting Hedgerow find his own time, his own way. Eventually the cat moved away and started to wash himself. Or herself. I guessed ‘Poppy’ was a girls name after all. “Oi guess you’se ‘ave come fer me then.” “We’d like to bring you home, Hedgerow,” I said gently. “I’m not here to force you to do anything you don’t to do though.” “Yer naht?” he asked. “Then what, oi can stay ‘ere can oi?” I closed my eyes and said nothing. “No, oi ‘spect naht.” Hedgerow sighed and looked down at Poppy. “Don’t think moi Hatty would be none too pleased ter foind me stoppin ‘ere f’rever, eh?” He suddenly barked out a laugh. “You know, young’n, oi think you may be roit. Oive been ‘ere fer longer than oi kin recall. Oi guessed oi was just sort’ a… forgotten, oi ‘spose.” “You weren’t forgotten, Hedgerow,” I said gently. “It just took a long time to come and bring you home. Far too long. I’m sorry.” “Oh, don’t you be sorry, young’n! Oi’m the auld fart ‘oo stopped ‘ere tendin’ the same flowers day arftur day.” Hedgerow laughed, his deep throaty mirth making the sunlight seem so much brighter. “Come orn lad. Let’s be getting me on me way, eh?” I chuckled, holding out my hoof to him and nodded to Zip Line who trotted up to us. “All set?” she asked. I picked up my armour, put my helmet on my head, and nodded. “Ready, Hedgerow?” The old stallion peered back at his blooms one last time. He looked sad, and yet at the same time, relieved. “Maybe it be toim to staart again ‘eh?” “And you’ll have all the time in the world to make your dreams come true,” I smiled. “All the time in the world.” A hoof tapped me on the shoulder. “Speaking of which, it’s time.” Hedgerow, Zip Line and I stared up at the shimmering silver oval of magic hanging in the air before us. Together, the three of us walked foward into the world of the eternal herd where I prayed Hedgerow would be able to find the peace he should have had so long ago. I closed my eyes and felt the slight shiver of magic as we left the world of the living and, just as we did, I felt the oddest feeling that something was sitting on my back - Something warm, furry, and… purring. You know, I think Hedgerow was going to be just fine.