//------------------------------// // Chapter Six: Empathy // Story: CRISIS: New World Order // by GanonFLCL //------------------------------// Dawn was still hours away. The storm was worse than ever as fierce lightning and thunder joined the wind and rain to turn the mountain trails into a literal death trap. Sundial’s warning of dangerous nighttime travel was, if nothing else, accurate. Pedigree’s ambush had delayed them so significantly that there was no chance of Sundial and Flurry reaching the kirin settlement before the weather got them hurt or killed. Flurry’s barrier, weakened from lack of sleep and food, was simply not up to the task of protecting her, Sundial, and the unconscious Two-eighteen who they carried between them. They needed shelter. A small cave just off to the side of the trail was, as far as Sundial was concerned, as close to a miracle as miracles could possibly get. She and Flurry carried Two-eighteen inside, set him down gently near the wall, then took a moment to breathe and rest for the first time since Kauldron and Krystal had shown their true colors. They were stuck here, so they may as well make the most of it. The cave itself wasn’t big enough to hold more than five or six ponies and some supplies, so it was more than enough for the three of them. After Sundial took a moment to take stock of their situation and scope out their newfound shelter for any hint of danger, she let out a heavy breath, cracked her neck, and set down her saddlebags as she set to work. First, she drew a long rope from her bags and gestured for Flurry to assist her. “C’mon, lass, help us out, aye?” “What are we doing, exactly?” Flurry asked as Sundial passed her two steel pegs and a rock to use like a hammer. She diligently hammered the pegs as directed into the wall of the cave at Sundial’s direction. “We’re making a clothesline,” Sundial said as she tied the rope around the pegs. “Our clothes are soaked, so we can’t rightly sleep in them as we are, aye? Might get a bad case o’ hypothermia or pneumonia, and after all we’ve been through in the last day and some hours I’ll be damned if that’s what does us in.” Sundial then stripped off her coat, her hat, and her kilt, hanging them up on the rope to dry. She turned to Flurry and gestured for her to do the same. “Don’t be shy now, lass. Off with it. It doesn’t bother me, so it shouldn’t bother you.” Flurry raised an eyebrow, confused. “Why would I be shy?” Sundial paused, then smiled and laughed. “Och, right, ye don’t really wear clothes regularly in yer world, do ye? After all that’s happened I completely forgot I was talking ta somepony that wasn’t from around here. Ye see, northern ponies have a wee taboo against walking around in the nude, aye?” “They do? Why?” Sundial shrugged. “Hell if I know, lass. It’s been that way for hundreds o’ years, but only up here in the north. The southern ponies are different, though. They’re a bit more open and carefree about it, aye? Just like you are back home. Now go on and get out o’ that coat so we can dry it out.” Flurry nodded, then removed her coat and hung it up like Sundial had done with her clothes. Afterwards, she looked at Two-eighteen, who was still unconscious and still in his dripping wet uniform. “I assume we’re doing the same for him, right? He looks soaked.” Sundial looked at the unconscious earth pony, then nodded in agreement. “Aye, that twat Overseer o’ his likely didn’t give him anything ta protect him from the rain. Poor lad’s probably chilled ta the bone. C’mon then, lend us a hoof.” The pair worked together to carefully strip the uniform off of Two-eighteen, then Sundial hung it up on the clothesline. She and Flurry glanced over the earth pony’s body, as this was the first time they’d seen him out of the uniform. He had a caramel brown coat and a chocolate brown mane, and the end of his muzzle was charcoal gray. The wound that Kauldron had given him hadn’t been bandaged properly, and if anything looked like it’d been cauterized. Judging from the plethora of scars that peppered so much of his body, he’d been injured a lot in the past, actually. “Do you think the Overseer gave him all of those?” Flurry asked softly. Sundial nodded glumly. “Aye, most likely. Either himself or by ordering the poor lad ta do it for him. Sick bastard.” She tilted her head as she eyed his flank; it was blank. “What’s this then? No cutie mark? At his age?” Flurry frowned, shaking her head. “The way the Overseer talked about him, it sounds like he’s been under his control for a while. Maybe he never had the chance to earn it?” “Aye… aye, that’d be my guess too. Poor lad.” Sundial sighed, then moved to her saddlebag and grabbed a sleeping bag and a blanket. She gave the blanket to Flurry, which was heavy and made of a thick, wool-like material. “Here, lass. This’ll keep ye warm.” Flurry took it and smiled. “Thank you.” Sundial then gestured towards Two-eighteen, who was shivering ever so slightly. “Help me get him inta the sleeping bag, aye? He looks too heavy fer me ta lift in my condition.” “But… what about you? Where are you sleeping?” “I’ll share with him,” Sundial said as if it was obvious. “I’d share with you, but these bags aren’t exactly big, and ye’re bigger than me by a wee bit, aye? Not just yer body, but yer wings too. The bag’s not really meant for alicorn anatomy.” “But… I mean—” “Look, he’s smaller than you, so it won’t be hard ta fit us both in one. Besides which, he and I are more soaked then you are, so I think I can stand ta share some body heat with the lad, aye? A wee bit awkward, aye, but I’m not shy.” “Are you sure? I mean, I don’t mind sharing the blanket with you if it’s uncomfortable for you.” “Aye, lass, I’m sure. It’d be a snug fit fer the two o’ us under the blanket, and I want ye to be comfortable.” Flurry frowned and hung her head. “You don’t need to treat me like some pampered princess, Sundial, or some little filly. I turn twenty in a few months, you know?” Sundial blinked, taken aback. “That’s not what I’m doing here, lass. Aye, ye might be about the same age as Bluebolt and Symphony are, but ye’re still just a kid compared ta them. I can tell this whole experience is harder for ye than it is for Rarity or Apple Bloom, too. So I want ta do what I can ta keep yer mind at ease, aye?” Furry let out a breath, and nodded. “Okay, if you say so.” “Good. Now, help me with him, aye?” Flurry helped Sundial get Two-eighteen into the sleeping bag, leaving just enough room for Sundial to fit in snugly beside him, which she did. It was an absolutely tight fit, as she knew it would be, so she was pressed right up against him once the bag had been zipped up. But it was warm now, and pleasantly so. Flurry then got herself wrapped up comfortably in the heavy blanket and, thanks to the long, difficult, exhausting day, she fell asleep straight away. Once Sundial was certain that Flurry was sound asleep, she drifted off herself, keeping her senses just barely aware of her surroundings, as usual. Over the course of the rest of the night, in the few hours they had before morning, Sundial, in her still-aware state of sleeping, noticed a few things about Two-eighteen that would’ve been hard to notice otherwise, and pondered over the things that she’d noticed in the brief time she’d been awake. First, he was a definite physical specimen. Sundial was so close against him that she could feel his lean muscles without even having to try, which certainly matched up well with the strength, speed, and stamina she’d seen him display in the few scuffles they’d had to date. Part of that she knew was his natural earth pony hardiness, while the rest she figured was from whatever ordeals Pedigree must’ve forced him to go through to be his personal assassin. Second, he seemed like a relatively sound sleeper compared to her, but how much of that was from him getting legitimate sleep and how much was from him likely suffering a mild concussion, she didn’t know. She figured that once they got him some healing and some decent food at the kirin settlement, he’d be right as rain. And third, despite being a sound sleeper, he was also clearly a dreamer. Sundial knew all the signs of a pony in the midst of a dream. Bluebolt, for example, wasn’t much of one, or at least had some boring dreams. Symphony was a dreamer through and through, and had some pleasant dreams if Sundial was to make a judgement, with lots of smiles, twitching eyebrows, and kicking legs. She was basically a dog in that sense, a concept that amused Sundial immensely. Two-eighteen’s dreams right now were decidedly unpleasant. Every time that a clap of thunder resounded outside the cave, the earth pony tensed up as if expecting something horrible to follow. She couldn’t blame him, really, not after what Pedigree just did to him, and what she guessed he did often. It made sense that the earth pony likely had a fear of lightning and thunder. As Sundial slept next to a pony who no more than an hour ago had had his hoof against her windpipe, she recalled her words to Apple Bloom as they walked through the tunnels before everything went wrong. She wasn’t sure if what she and Flurry were doing right now was the smart thing to do. But it was the right thing to do. ***** Sundial woke up at the crack of dawn, as was usual for her. She wanted to sleep just a little more but routines and habits were hard to break. The rains outside the cavern were still coming down, but they had calmed immensely in the few hours of sleep that she’d managed to get. There was no more lightning, no more thunder, and even the winds had died down to a gentle breeze. The difference was, literally, like that between night and day. As soon as she stirred and started to get out of the sleeping bag, however, Two-eighteen jolted awake himself, probably from feeling her shifting about. His sudden movement was erratic and panicked. He awkwardly rolled over on top of Sundial first, earning a grunt from her as all of his weight pressed against her back. “Oof! Do ye mind?” she huffed, trying to wrest herself free. “Usually a stallion buys a lass dinner first, aye?” Realizing he wasn’t alone, the earth pony bolted out of the sleeping bag in a hurry, coming right up against the wall. He seemed totally out of his element, as with the sunlight peeking far into the cave there weren’t any shadows for him to conveniently hide in. “Easy, lad, easy,” Sundial said as she climbed to her hooves and out of the sleeping bag herself, trying to keep him—and herself—calm; she was in no shape to fight him if he decided to get violent. “Just relax, aye? Deep breaths.” He quickly looked around the room and noticed his uniform hanging on a clothesline, then that Sundial was staring right at him, then the sleeping bag he had just been in, and finally that Flurry Heart was just stirring awake from all the commotion. Sundial could see the earth pony’s eyes for the first time, now that he was awake and out of those stupid goggles. He had the eyes of a broken pony, sad and lifeless. They were blue, like a clear summer sky. “Where is this?” he asked, his calm, monotone voice a stark contrast to his slightly jittery demeanor. “It’s a wee cave just off of the trail en route ta the kirin settlement,” Sundial said. “We had ta take shelter from the storm, aye? Can’t go traveling around at night.” “Where is Overseer Pedigree?” Sundial noted the nervousness in his voice with that question. Was he scared of the Overseer now? “He’s not here, lad. He popped out o’ danger in a bloody hurry after we kicked his arse inta next Tuesday, aye? I doubt we’ll see him again for a long while. His horn was busted up a wee bit, so he won’t be casting proper magic so soon.” “The Overseer is gone?” He paused a moment to consider this, either worried or concerned, Sundial wasn’t sure which. “Where did he go?” “He didn’t exactly tell anypony where he was going, lad,” Sundial scoffed, trying to be as cordial as she could. “And even if he did, with that cracked horn o’ his I doubt he ended up exactly where he wanted ta end up anyway. He’s not going ta be trouble for us, aye?” Flurry, having woken up fully, approached the chatting pair with a soft smile on her face. “Are you okay? How’s your head?” she asked the earth pony. Two-eighteen paused, then brought his hoof up to his forehead, where his wound, while still pretty bad, was at least no longer bleeding. “Injury sustained, but will not impact performance.” “Well, that’s good. I think?” Flurry said, tilting her head. His terse answers were bothersome in a casual context like this, even to Sundial. “Are you going to be okay, considering everything that’s happened?” Two-eighteen looked at her as if he wasn’t sure what she just said, or more like she was from one of this Equestria’s two moons. Probably the smaller one. “Och, lass, the poor lad probably has no idea what ye’re talking about,” Sundial muttered, shaking her head. “Do ye really think that unicorn twat ever asked him if he was ‘okay’ before? Probably doesn’t know what that word means. Ye’ve got ta word it like… like he’s a machine, I guess. Use more businesslike phrases and such.” “Sundial, he’s a pony, not a machine,” Flurry said, giving her a disapproving look. “We shouldn’t treat him like that.” “Aye, I know that, lass, but he’s also confused and lost right now, and trying ta throw the unfamiliar at him so fast isn’t gonna work. Here, let me try.” She cleared her throat. “Two-eighteen, given yer current condition, do ye think ye’re capable o’ continuing forward?” Two-eighteen nodded. “Yes.” “See?” “I don’t like calling him... that,” Flurry sighed, shaking her head. “It’s not a real name. It’s a number.” “Och, aye, it’s probably just his badge number or something. I don’t know if he’s with the NPAF or not. Hell, I don’t even know where he is from.” She addressed Two-eighteen: “Lad, what’s yer name?” Two-eighteen tilted his head. “Name?” “Aye, what do we call ye?” “Two-eighteen.” Sundial grunted, annoyed. “No, I mean, besides that. What do we call ye besides ‘Two-eighteen’?” Two-eighteen shook his head. “That is the only designation the Overseer gave.” “Och, well, we’re not referring ta ye by some bloody number like ye’re some kind o’ robot or something, aye? Especially not if that arsehole gave it ta ye.” Sundial turned to Flurry and smiled. “So, he needs a name, aye?” Flurry frowned, disapproving. “What, like a pet? We can’t just name him, Sundial. That’s just… wrong.” Sundial raised an eyebrow. “Well what do ye want from me here, lass? The lad doesn’t have a bloody name, and ye don’t want ta call him by a bloody number, so we need ta think o’ something here, aye? We’ll ask him if he likes the name before we give it ta him, and it’s not like we’re getting him bloody tags and a collar. It’s his choice as much as ours, aye?” “...fine, I guess that makes sense.” Flurry took in a breath, then addressed the earth pony, who was never again to be referred to as Two-eighteen by them. “So, is there a name that we can call you that you would approve of?” The earth pony tilted his head, lost. “Your question is unclear.” “Here’s a thought,” Sundial said, hoof to her chin. “This lad’s got these weird shadow powers, aye? What about… Shade? Or Shadow?” “Those powers don’t define who he is, Sundial,” Flurry huffed. “Besides, I already know a ‘Shadow’.” Sundial paused, then nodded. “Och, aye, now that ye mention it that would be in poor taste. I can’t bloody well introduce him ta Tick Tock with a name like that either, it might give her a heart attack or something.” She thought for a long moment. “Well, he’s also pretty good in a scrap, aye?” Flurry tilted her head. “I mean, yeah, I suppose he is. He moved through that darkness like… like a threading needle. Back and forth, in and out. Like sewing, or weaving.” Sundial smirked. “Ye want we should name him Threading Needle?” Flurry just stared at Sundial with disapproval all over her face. “What? No. Why would you—” Sundial held up her hooves defensively. “Just checking, lass, just checking. So, ye say that he weaves around through the darkness then, aye? So, how about ‘Weaver’?” “Hmm… that does have a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?” Sundial turned to the earth pony. “Would ye mind if we called ye ‘Weaver’ from now on, lad?” The earth pony tilted his head. “You can use whatever name you wish.” “No, lad, that’s not what we’re doing here, aye? We’re asking ye if you’re okay with us giving ye a new name. Is ‘Weaver’ okay with you? Does it make sense?” “Your reasoning implies movements resemble ‘weaving’ in and out of darkness. An appropriate analogy, if far-fetched.” He nodded. “‘Weaver’ is acceptable.” Sundial grinned and clapped Flurry on the shoulder. “There we go! Now, how does it feel ta have a proper name, lad?” Weaver tilted his head again. “How does it… feel?” “Aye, how does it feel ta have a real name instead of just some rubbish number ta call ye by?” “Your question is unclear.” Sundial rolled her eyes and set her hoof to her forehead. “Och, this is gonna be a work in progress, aye?” Flurry gave Weaver a soft smile. “Well, Weaver, shall we get going? Sundial says the kirin settlement isn’t far, and we can get all the things that we—and you—need when we get there: food, water, rest, and healing.” “No new orders have been delivered,” Weaver said, shaking his head. “Cannot act until new orders are delivered. Will remain here until then.” Flurry frowned. “What?” “Ye don’t have new orders, lad, and ye’re not gonna be getting any more from yer Overseer, aye?” Sundial said, putting a hoof on his shoulder. “He’s gone off somewhere where ye can’t find him, and he’s not going ta come looking for ye.” “Irrelevant.” Sundial snorted, loudly. “So, what, ye want ta just wait here forever until that bastard comes back? Until ye die o’ thirst?” She poked him in the chest. “Ye proved ta us last night that ye can disobey that twat’s orders if ye want ta, so don’t give me that shite. We’re offering you a choice: come with us, or stay here and wait for yer Overseer ta never come for ye. What’s it gonna be?” Weaver stared at her for a long moment, then slowly rose to his hooves. “Are these new orders, Overseer Sundial?” Sundial blinked. “Och, what? I’m not yer bloody Overseer—” He then turned to Flurry. “Overseer Flurry Heart, are these new orders?” Flurry frowned and shook her head. “No, Weaver, these aren’t orders. This is a choice for you to make. You don’t have to follow anypony’s orders any more. You can do what you want to do, whatever that is.” “Aye, it’s yer own choice ta make, lad,” Sundial added. “We’re not going ta force ye ta come with us, so if that’s the choice ye want ta make, then make it. Just know that whatever ye decide—ta come with us, or ta stay here—it’s yer choice.” Weaver blinked, tilting his head as he pondered this. “No new orders… must make independent decision on how to proceed…” “Aye, that’s it, lad. We’re not like that twat Pedigree. We’re letting you make a decision here. So what’s it gonna be?” Weaver stayed silent for a long moment, then gave a brief nod. “Offer accepted. Will travel with you to kirin settlement.” Flurry clapped her hooves briefly. “Good! Thank you Weaver, we’re happy to have you along.” Sundial nodded, then gestured towards their now-dry clothes. “Aye, now let’s get dressed and get moving. We don’t have much more ground ta cover, but the others are probably worried sick about us.” ***** The kirin settlement was built into the side of a mountain, wide at the base but rising up several levels as it followed a well-crafted, semi-natural trail. The many good-sized homes of the kirin who lived here were built of solid stone and carefully molded into precise, pleasant shapes that could hold entire families with ease. The entrance to the village sat at the bottom of the trail where an open gate welcomed visitors into the village, while at the top of the trail was a larger home which belonged to the settlement’s leader. Dozens of kirin walked through the narrow, sloping streets of the settlement late that morning and went about their daily routines: setting up shops to advertise their crafted wares and foodstuffs; making ready to head into the mountains to mine for ore; gossiping and chatting amongst friends and family. A typical, quaint little village filled with friendly, talkative, helpful folk, exactly as it had been described. Even the rain barely fell around here, not even enough to warrant more than a hat to keep oneself dry, though the kirin didn’t bother with clothes. The kirin themselves looked just like Kauldron and Krystal did, for the most part: earth-toned coats covered in earth-toned scales, with lush manes of bright colors in many different earthy hues, mostly golds, browns, and reds. Their horns were the only things that were different. Where Kauldron and Krystal’s horns were made of black crystal, the settlement kirins’ horns were made of a silvery metallic substance, and each kirin’s horn was unique. Some were curved, others straight; some bent in odd, wavy patterns, while others came at sharp angles; some had tight spirals, others split off like antlers. Each and every horn, though, tapered off into a smooth, flat tip, ideal for manipulating ore, not for piercing flesh. Apple Bloom had woken up first amongst the group this morning, and now stood at the edge of a small precipice just outside the leader’s home looking down over the entire settlement and keeping an eye out for any sign of disturbance or commotion. There had been quite a ruckus when she, Bluebolt, and Rarity walked into the settlement the day before, what with her carrying a heavily-injured Symphony on her back. She hoped a similar ruckus would alert her to the arrival of Sundial and Flurry. She almost didn’t notice a female kirin come up behind her. The kirin had a fiery-red coat underneath her obsidian-black scales, and her mane was a bright, sunny orange with white tips. Her horn was curved like a sickle, with the tip facing forwards. “Nothing yet, I take it?” the kirin asked, her tone polite and friendly. Bloom shook her head sadly. “Not yet, Miss Kwake, but I’ve only been up fer an hour or so, so I’ve got time ta keep lookin’. They’ll be here soon, I just know it.” Kwake stepped up to Bloom and gently set a hoof on her shoulder. “Come inside, friend, and eat. You have not yet had breakfast, and it would not do to maintain your vigil on an empty stomach. It is the most important meal of the day, after all.” “Yeah, that’s what mah sister says.” Bloom sighed and shook her head. “But I can’t jus’ sit down 'n' enjoy a hot meal while my friends’re out there somewhere in who knows what kind o’ danger. I want ta go lookin’ for 'em, not just stay here 'n' hope fer the best.” “That might be so, but your companions would not want you to starve yourself or put yourself in undue danger. I do not wish to diminish your hopes, but if they encountered those two Obsidian Clan kirin…” She shook her head and sighed. “Please, come. I have made some stew.” Bloom’s stomach rumbled, betraying her hunger. She rolled her eyes. “Alright, fine. Just for a lil’ bit, though, then I’m right back out here ta keep watch.” “Of course, I would not dare suggest otherwise. Your companions must admire your vigilance.” Bloom followed Kwake into her large house, which was a pleasant, earthy affair with plenty of room for dozens of kirin—or ponies—to be in attendance at once. A smooth, stone dining table with smooth, stone benches sat at the center of the large central chamber. Off to the sides, short hallways led off to other rooms such as the guest rooms Bloom and her companions were allowed to use for the time being. Kwake’s home seemed to serve as a visitor’s lodge as well as her own abode. Seated at the table now were Rarity, Bluebolt, and Symphony, all enjoying hearty bowls of stew for breakfast. The latter had almost made a full recovery at this point, and her side didn’t even remotely look like it had been torn open nearly two days earlier, though it was still in the process of healing. Bloom marveled at the healing effects that the settlement kirins’ horns had. Kauldron had been entirely truthful about that, which was probably more amazing than the actual healing powers on display. Kwake stepped over to Symphony, gestured for the unicorn to raise her foreleg up to examine the wound, then briefly touched her horn to the scarred area. The scar shrunk ever-so-slightly. With a little more treatment, Symphony probably wouldn’t even look like she’d been injured in the first place. Bloom took a seat at the table beside Rarity and across from Bluebolt while Kwake brought over a bowl of stew for her to eat. It was a dark, thick, hearty offering filled with carrots, onions, and some other vegetables that Bloom had never seen before, which given her upbringing was surprising. It wasn’t exactly a normal offering to have for breakfast, but that didn’t matter much. It tasted heavenly. “Still nothing outside, huh?” Bluebolt asked with a nervous smile. “Naw, not a thing,” Bloom replied, wolfing down her stew in rapid spoonfuls, “but I ain’t givin’ up. Just one bowl fer me, then I’m back out ta watch fer 'em.” Rarity smiled and patted Bloom’s shoulder. “We appreciate your vigilance, Apple Bloom. I’m sure Sundial and Flurry will be glad to know you were so concerned for them that you volunteered to watch for them the entire time. Even almost skipping meals, hmm?” “Yeah, well, I don’t rightly expect Bluebolt or Symphony ta do it, y’know?” Bloom said, giving the pair across a slight smile. It wasn’t meant as an offense, after all. “I mean, Symphony’s still recoverin’, an’ Bluebolt ain’t gonna leave her fillyfriend’s side for one minute, ain’t that right? I’d never ask her to.” Bluebolt nodded, taking Symphony’s hoof in hers and giving Symphony a loving smile. “We can never thank you two enough for helping us get here so fast.” She looked at Rarity apologetically. “I’m sorry again for going off on you—” “Please, it’s all water under the bridge, darling,” Rarity said, brushing the thought aside with her hoof. “You weren’t in the right state of mind when you said what you did, and it’s not like you said or did anything hurtful to really even be sorry for. Maybe a little rude, but that’s understandable. I admire your dedication to Symphony, actually. It’s quite romantic.” Symphony grinned wide and finished swallowing a mouthful of stew. “She’s a real pesca, huh?” She leaned over and nuzzled at Bluebolt’s ear. “Maybe I should get hurt more often if you’re gonna treat me like I’m a princess, Princess.” “Don’t say that, Symphony,” Bluebolt tutted, not exactly pushing Symphony away, but rather pulling her close with both wings on the sides of her face. “It’s not funny.” Symphony kissed Bluebolt on the nose. Bloom couldn’t see it, but she could hear it. “Sorry I worried you, il mio amore. It won’t happen again, I promise.” She crossed her hooves over her chest. “Attraversare il mio cuore.” Rarity smiled sweetly as she looked between the two once they broke their embrace. “You two really are adorable. Ah, young love…” she sighed. Bloom quickly finished the last of her stew, letting out a quick burp in the process. She tapped her chest. “'Scuse me. Well, back out I go,” she said. She was a little too eager to avoid watching any more displays of affection, sweet as it was. She got enough of that back home with Applejack and Flathoof when she was younger. At least Macintosh and Grayscale had the courtesy to do that kind of stuff behind closed doors. Rarity rose from her seat. “I’ll come with you, darling. After a good night’s sleep, I’m quite eager to get a better look at the settlement now that we’re not rushing through looking for help.” Bloom smiled and nodded. “Glad ta have ya.” The two walked outside and headed back over to the precipice that Bloom had been standing watch at before. Nothing much had changed down below that she could see. Several long minutes passed. “I hope they’re okay…” Bloom sighed, hanging her head. “I do too,” Rarity said, putting her hoof on Bloom’s shoulder. “But, if Sundial is even half the mare that Tick Tock was years ago, she’ll do everything in her power to keep Flurry safe and bring her back to us. I know it in my heart.” Bloom smiled briefly and gave Rarity a knowing look. “She won’t like hearin’ ya compare her ta Tick Tock again, y’know?” “Yes, I know, but I think she’d rather appreciate the compliment in this case,” Rarity replied with a smile of her own. “Besides which, Flurry Heart isn’t exactly a pushover. She might not know much about fighting or defending herself like you do, but her magic is strong, and she’s quite clever. Just like her mother, her father, and her aunt.” Bloom sighed and scuffed her hoof in the dirt. “I wish I was stronger, like mah sister. Maybe if I’d stayed on the farm an’ put on a lil’ more muscle, I could’ve hit that kirin mare just a lil’ bit harder…” “It’s alright, dear, don’t blame yourself for anything that happened, especially not your choice in career. We all put our trust in some strangers that turned out to be less than pleasant in the end.” Rarity frowned and shook her head. “You’d think I would’ve learned my lesson about that sort of thing from the last time I was here.” “Hey now, don’t go sayin’ that,” Bloom said with a grin, putting her hoof on Rarity’s shoulder. “Y’all trusted Flathoof right off the bat, an’ look where he is now, havin’ himself a lil’ family o’ his own wit’ mah sister, an’ they love each other. An’ y’all trusted Tick Tock 'n' Lockwood right away too, didn’t ya? And they helped ya make it back home, right?” Rarity smiled back. “Yes, well, I was more referring to Shadow and her sisters. Then again, I suppose they weren’t entirely to blame for their behavior at the time. And now that things have progressed the way they have, I suppose they turned out to be perfectly nice, normal ponies… or at least as ‘normal’ as they can be.” “See? So don’t get so hard up on yerself there, Rarity. 'Sides, Sundial trusted 'em too 'cause, I mean, just look at this place,” Bloom said, gesturing out over the peaceful kirin village. “She said these was all the kirins there were, so far as she knew, an’ these folks are mighty nice, aren’t they? She got blindsided jus’ like the rest o’ us.” “I suppose so, yes.” Rarity sighed as she glanced out over the settlement again. Her keen eyes seemed to catch sight of a gathering near the village entrance. She quickly tapped Bloom’s side. “There! Look!” Bloom glanced down as well and saw the commotion brewing. She grinned widely. “They’re here!” She turned back and ran towards Kwake’s house. “They’re here! Come on, guys! They’re here!” ***** The tension inside Kwake’s den was so thick you cut it with a knife. Kwake delicately tended to Sundial’s tremendous amount of injuries, which she effectively narrowed down: “Well, Sundial, you certainly came to me with the total package. You’re lucky to be alive,” she huffed as she set her horn on Sundial’s brow. “Let’s see: cracked ribs, a cracked jaw, a moderate concussion, a busted lip, minor cuts and bruises on your legs and sides, three sprained knees, a black eye, and… a sore throat.” “Aw shite, not a sore throat,” Sundial chuckled as Kwake’s horn relieved her headache nearly instantly. “Thanks, Kwake. Sorry ta barge in on ye like this.” “No trouble at all. That’s what friends are for, are they not?” Kwake sighed and shook her head. “Forgive me for not sending help, friend. If it had been anything else, anything at all, I would have rallied a party to search for you through the entire mountain range. But… those two frighten us. I couldn’t risk—” “It’s alright, lass, no harm done,” Sundial said, patting Kwake’s shoulder. “Well, not exactly, aye? Those two aren’t going ta bother you or yer village anymore, I can promise ye that.” Kwake raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?” Sundial slid her hoof across her throat. A universally understood gesture. “Oh my… well, that certainly is news, isn’t it? Hmm… a shame about Krystal, though. She was blinded by love for that maniac…” “Hey now, don’t start getting all sympathetic for that one, aye? She’s the one that did most o’ this ta me.” “Oh, no, you misunderstand. It is the justice she deserves for what she’s done, but I wish it had never happened in the first place. Some of their clan used to visit here often you know, Krystal and Kauldron included. It wasn’t until Kauldron started having those… dreams that things took a turn for the worse. She used to be rather nice.” “Aye, he told me about the dreams he was having,” Sundial said, taking a breath. “Disturbing stuff. Spoke like a complete lunatic, rambling on and on about having a new mission involving our friend Flurry.” Flurry, luckily, had not been injured, and merely needed a hot meal, some water, and bedrest to get back into tip-top shape. For now, she was seated at the dining table, hungrily wolfing down another bowl of Kwake’s heavenly stew, helped along by Rarity so as not to strain her magic in the process. Sundial leaned back as Kwake tended to another wound. “I still don’t know what the hell his plan was, but it’s over now.” “That is pleasant news.” Kwake diverted her attention slightly to the left, then back to Sundial’s wounds. “Though it would seem as if you have other troubles to tend to, if I might be so bold?” Sundial grunted and turned her attention towards the other side of the room, where the other three mares of the group had taken seats in Kwake’s common area. “Aye, that I do,” she muttered. Bloom, Bluebolt, and Symphony, while obviously ecstatic to have their friends back and recovering in good company, were clearly less than pleased with the newest guest, and since Flurry was in Rarity’s care and Sundial in Kwake’s, they could divert all of their attention elsewhere. If looks could kill, Weaver would be dead three times over by now, and probably working on a fourth. The uniformed earth pony sat quietly in the corner of the room, alone, not really paying anypony else in the room any particular attention, just glancing at all of the decor in Kwake’s common area: crystals and ore fashioned into little statuettes and figures; clay sculptures depicting kirin in varying poses; ingots of various metals. He didn’t seem to really be looking at them so much as through them, his eyes still mostly dull and lifeless. His injuries had been easy to tend to—a simple gash on the forehead; a deeper, but still manageable, gouge in the shoulder; and some minor electrical burns along his sides and chest—but there had been quite an uproar when Sundial insisted he get treated first since she knew it wouldn’t take long for Kwake to do. Kauldron hadn’t hit him quite as deeply as he had Symphony, for one. If he had, Weaver likely wouldn’t have been able to walk at all afterwards. Symphony adjusted her jaw and leaned back in her seat, not turning towards Sundial one inch. Her attention was solely focused on Weaver innocently looking around. “Sundial, can I just say that I think you’re probably one of the bigger idiots I know? Not the biggest, but you’re up there. Easily in the top three.” Sundial grinned and leaned further back in her seat to get a good view of the other three mares. “I’ll take that as a compliment, lass, considering ye’ve got to be, what, number two on yer own list, aye?” “Is there a reason you decided to take this… cucciolo with you? What is he now, your pet or something? Is he housebroken?” “He is not our pet,” Flurry said sharply, in between mouthfuls of stew. “He’s just a pony that’s suffered through a lot in life, and we’re helping him to get out of a bad situation.” “So he got a little cut on the head, big deal. You want to talk about suffering?” Symphony gestured to the almost-healed scar on her side. “I damn near got a punctured lung and three broken ribs out of the deal. I mean, yeah, you can’t tell now, but it was there.” Flurry frowned. “I… I didn’t mean to compare anything—” Sundial snorted and shot Symphony a dirty look. “That’s not what she meant and ye know it, so don’t go giving her a hard time, aye? We brought the lad along because he needs help. That other twat, the Overseer, was torturing him and using him like some sort o’ slave. Had some kind o’ conditioning on him or something. Maybe brainwashing?” “What, like he was mind-controlled?” Bluebolt asked, tilting her head. “So the Overseer was influencing this pony’s actions and all that? That’s pretty powerful magic, from what I understand.” “Och, not exactly magic, I think. It’s kind o’ hard ta explain, actually, but there’s a lot more ta the lad than ye think. I haven’t gotten much out o’ him yet, but I’m piecing it together. I’m hoping ta make some more progress along the way.” “Wait, ‘along the way’?” Symphony huffed, gesturing towards Weaver in disbelief. “We’re bringing this charity case with us to Goldridge?” “Aye, that we are. Ye’re quick on the draw, very good.” Symphony grunted and crossed her forelegs over her chest. “I meant what I said earlier, about you being a huge idiot. I hope you don’t think I was joking. You’re dangerously close to number one now, by the way.” “You’ve got me really wondering who your number one is, songbird,” Bluebolt said, giving Symphony a curious look. “Make smartarse remarks all ye want, lass, it’s not going ta change anything. Flurry and I want ta help the lad, and so that’s what we’re going ta do, aye?” Sundial glanced at Apple Bloom with a knowing grin. “Not because it’s the smart thing ta do, but because it’s the right thing ta do. Aye, lass?” Bloom took a breath, then nodded. “Well, if ya say that there’s somethin’ wrong wit’ ‘im an’ that y’all wanna help, then I ain’t about ta argue wit’ ya. Where I’m from, ya help ponies in need, no matter what. Whether they’re yer friends, strangers, or even yer enemies. Everypony deserves a second chance, at least that’s what Princess Twilight always says.” “And she’s absolutely right,” Rarity chimed in. “The last time I was here, there were six mares that were in a very similar situation to this young stallion. They didn’t realize it at the time, of course, and they did some truly terrible things while under that influence—” Bluebolt gave Rarity a harsh look. “Mom says they killed nearly one hundred of Hope’s Point’s finest soldiers, who were just defending our city from invaders that were trying to capture or kill you, I might add. I’d say that’s more than just ‘terrible’.” Rarity shook her head. “Oh, I agree, darling. Neither Starlight Shadow or any of her sisters expect forgiveness for what they did to your mother’s ponies. They regret it immensely, and they’ll always remember what they did and feel horrible about it. They don’t think they deserve forgiveness. They don’t even expect all of the good they’ve done since then to make up for their past actions. “But that’s not the point. The point is, despite the awful, disgusting things they did, they do regret their actions, and they have spent the last twenty years trying to make amends for it, because we gave them that chance.” Rarity sighed and closed her eyes. “I admit it might not seem right to compare one life to another, but together they’ve made positive impacts on the lives of hundreds of ponies, maybe more. It will never make up for that they did… but they are trying.” Bluebolt took a breath. “I understand what you’re saying, and I can agree with it to a certain extent, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it.” She turned back towards Weaver. “At least this one hasn’t done anything to the ponies of Hope’s Point. Not that I know of, anyway.” “Ye ever been to Hope’s Point, Weaver?” Sundial asked. “No,” came his flat response. “See? No trouble there.” Rarity sighed, then turned to Flurry. “I think you’ve made your parents and aunt very proud, giving this stallion another chance at life, darling. Perhaps this is your calling, hmm?” Flurry nodded and gave Rarity a soft smile. “Thank you. That means a lot. I don’t know if it’s what I’m meant to do, but I’m happy to do it regardless.” Symphony rolled her eyes. “Alright, whatever, so we’re bringing him with us now. I don’t like it, but I guess if you say he’s not all bad—even if you’re a huge idiot and you smell like the ass end of una mucca—I’ll trust your judgement.” She gave Sundial a wink and a small, friendly smirk. “Aww, ye’re a sweet lass,” Sundial said with a friendly smirk and a wink in return. “I’m so glad I have yer approval.” “Yeah, but remember, if I so much as think your little cucciolo is going to step out of line—” Symphony drew out what was left of her longsword: just the hilt and a shattered length of the blade, still pointed and sharp enough to do the job if necessary. She gently pointed it in Weaver’s direction; he didn’t pay it any attention. “—I’m going full medieval on him. Capisce?” Sundial rolled her eyes this time. “Aye, lass, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Glad ta have ye looking out for the lot o’ us, even if ye’re a wee bit testy about it sometimes.” Rarity cleared her throat to draw attention away from such uncouth discussions. “So then, Sundial, you said his name is ‘Weaver’?” “Aye, that’s the name we came up with for him.” “‘Came up with’?” Bluebolt asked, tilting her head. “The hell does that mean?” “He… didn’t have a name before this morning,” Flurry said, giving Weaver a sympathetic look. “Only a number. So, we thought of a name, and he agreed to take it.” “I see,” Rarity said, nodding in understanding. “Well, far be it from me to make any judgements on your decisions, given my own track record with this sort of thing. Honestly, I’m of the opinion that even if this decision of yours might not seem exactly ‘smart’, it’s definitely pragmatic at the very least.” “We didn’t do it to be pragmatic,” Flurry said, raising an eyebrow. “Perish the thought, darling. That’s not what I meant. I simply meant that I can see why you’re willing to give him the opportunity at this new life, or whatever comes of this. He may have only let me and the girls go because we gave him information, but the last pony I knew with the sort of abilities he has would’ve likely stabbed us in the back and laughed about it afterwards.” “Aye, and he was more than willing ta accept a deal with Flurry when presented with it, and he could’ve gone back on it at any time if he wanted. He had me dead ta rights and everything, but he didn’t take it.” Sundial smirked and leaned back in her seat. “I’m telling ye, lassies, this will all work out in the end, you’ll see.” “So, does he just sit there now, or what?” Symphony asked, gesturing to him. “Apart from that thrilling one-word response earlier, he hasn’t moved or made a sound since he sat down. All he’s doing it looking around at everything.” “Looking through everything, more like,” Bluebolt noted, shivering. “He’s got this kind of thousand-yard stare going on. It’s actually creeping me out.” “Yeah, I like him better with the goggles on,” Symphony snorted. “At least then he looks cool.” “I know he can talk,” Bluebolt continued, “so why isn’t he saying anything?” Sundial paused, and glanced at Weaver. “Oy, Weaver, is everything alright over there, lad? Ye’ve been awful quiet and it’s giving some o’ the girls the creeps.” “Sheesh, don’t say it that way!” Bluebolt huffed, her eyes darting between him and Sundial. “He’s gonna think I don’t like him or something!” “I thought we didn’t like him?” Symphony scoffed. Weaver turned his whole head to look over towards Sundial, as if he was still wearing the goggles and needed to indicate that he was listening. “Haven’t been addressed directly. No reason to speak.” “Ha, he talks just like your mom,” Symphony whispered to Bluebolt with a smile. “Shut up, no he doesn’t,” Bluebolt whispered back, definitely not smiling. “Psh, he totally does! He sounds just like your mom does when she gets all serious and regio. It sounds creepy coming from him, though. At least your mom puts some emotion into it. She makes it sound badass.” “They’re completely different, sheesh. My mom uses brief descriptions, simple sentence structure, plain words, and few figures of speech when she goes all ‘Mom’ on somepony. This guy talks all laconic, like a robot or something.” “Uh huh. So… totally the same.” Bluebolt grunted, then addressed Weaver directly: “So, what, you only speak when spoken to, is that it?” Weaver tilted his head. “Yes.” “Why?” “No reason to do otherwise. Overseer claimed it wasted effort.” “See?” Symphony said, gesturing towards him while looking at Bluebolt with a cocky grin. “Just like your mom, only really creepy. Thank the stars you don’t talk like that.” Bluebolt rolled her eyes then turned to Sundial, trying to redirect the embarrassment elsewhere. “You sure know how to pick a colt, Sundial. He’s a real charmer, this one.” Sundial snorted indignantly. “I’m not that desperate, lass, give me a wee bit o’ credit here.” “Yeah, sure, whatever you say.” Sundial sighed, then cleared her throat. “Right then, we’re going ta end up behind schedule by about a day, but luckily the route I planned out will still work. After we have food in our bellies and restock our supplies, we’ll head west towards Goldridge Pass. Any objections ta leaving after breakfast tomorrow?” “If you say we have to leave that soon, then that’s when we’ll leave,” Rarity said with a nod. “I learned from last time I was here that arguing about the route only causes more trouble than it’s worth. We didn’t listen to Tick Tock then, but I’m listening to you now. I trust you, Sundial.” Sundial raised an eyebrow, taken aback. “Aye? Well, thanks, I guess?” “No need to thank me, darling. You did a very brave thing, staying with Flurry like you did and putting yourself in harm’s way to protect her, so this is my way of thanking you.” Rarity gave Sundial a small smile. “Tick Tock should be proud she has such a qualified successor. As far as I’m concerned, you’ve proven yourself worthy of the role.” Sundial averted her eyes from Rarity so the unicorn wouldn’t see her turning red. “Right, whatever. So, no objections ta the itinerary then?” Nopony voiced anything. “Good. Then let’s enjoy a day to recuperate, get some food, get restocked, then we head out after breakfast tomorrow, as said. If everything goes right on the route, we’ll be at Goldridge Pass in four days from now, give or take an hour ta account for winds, aye?”