//------------------------------// // Tell me a Story // Story: To be Redeemed // by shattered_sky //------------------------------// An earth pony walked through the streets of Applelousa, his cloak covering any notable features. Things were a lot different then what he remembered. Sure there were still the distrustful gazes of some of the townsfolk, but he could feel a certain lightness in the air. Colts and fillies playing, construction of larger buildings, the large orchard and prosperous farms. These things were once unheard of in this town. Ever since the Celestial tyrants began their strikes of terror, regulated weather was quite unheard off. His Royal Highness Sombra seemed to be losing this war. But then the successful defense of Fort Craig, the survival of Applelousa and Dodge City. Death of dozens of Ideals, the elite soldiers of Queen Celestia’s army. The fall of the slave trade. And many more events that slowly eroded her powerbase in Equestria. And at the center of it all were these odd individuals, the so called Displaced. He’d heard of the frontier town and of the many heroes and outlaws. On how the town persisted, proving that live could survive – and eventually flourish – anywhere. On how certain individuals could overcome insurmountable odds. About hope that harmony could prevail. He doubted these stories would lead him to what he sought. But he was running out of options. For a moment he gave an unhinged grin, his red eyes shrinking to pinpricks. His thoughts wandered to all sorts of things. He slapped himself and shook his head. “I have… such pre-precious time.” His voice broke. “A-and I can f-feel it. This is merely the beginning. O-of something bl-bloody.” He took a few shuddering breaths. “War unheard of for millennia is on the horizon.” He concluded in a cold and stable tone. He then quickened his pace. Heading through the orchards and farms. To a small house far off. It was different from what he remembered, the once dilapidated house looked sturdy and had a fresh coat of white paint and a fence. A large stallion – the largest he’d seen – was on a rocking chair. Speaking to a young female buffalo and a Pegasus mare. The three turned to him as he opened the fence. The buffalo shifting into an aggressive stance and the navy blue Pegasus mare tensing. “What brings you here stranger?” She demanded. “You must be Little Strongheart. It’s pleasant to meet you.” He greeted. “Curiosity!? I-I mean Director?” The Pegasus mare stammered. “What brings ya ‘round these parts?” “Indeed, hello North Star. It’s been a while.” He looked over her lack of outfit and weapons. “Quite rare seeing you like this.” The large stallion remained silent through this, and feigned sleeping. “You know him Ranger?” Little Strongheart asked. “We go ways back.” Curiously smirked. “I’d simply wish she’d regale me with a story. Interesting people and events. It may help me with my search.” He disappeared and walked from behind the large stallion. Causing the two to jump back. He chuckled. “About which hooligan?” North asked. “The Mistwalker. Wraith. Angel of Death. The Redeemer. She goes by many names.” He smiled. “Reports don’t do her justice. And I know you gathered accounts of her, and you rode with her for a time.” He raised his head up. “Legends don’t simply appear. I want to know her origins.” North Star and Little Strongheart blinked. ****** Origins of the Displaced normally share two things in common. A not so glamorous - sometimes disillusioned life - of normal people. The other is the 'Displacement' as others call it, most talk about like going to a convention and meeting 'The Merchant by some video game. Usually given some prop related to their character. Well that wasn't the case for me. I was simply whisked away - the details of which I can't exactly remember because I was inebriated - after being given weapons and various abilities. Apparently I wasn't the only one, for during my travels I met many of these other individuals. Hundreds actually gathered together in some city up the Frozen North. But I'm getting ahead of myself. This account is gathered from myself, some friends and enemies alike. I witnessed many weird and horrible things I during my journey, some of which I was unceremoniously dragged into. I took up the name Senna, and even after I recovered my memory I decided to stick to the name. This is my story. The story of a mother, who only wanted to see her children again.