//------------------------------//
// Chapter 6 
// Story: A Shadow of Your Former Self 
// by anonbecause1 
//------------------------------//


3 Months Later


“So, you’re leaving us huh?” Cartwheel summed up as he watched the sunset with Sombra.

“Well obviously, I have to get as far away from you as possible.” Cartwheel took a sip of his coffee and nodded in acknowledgement of Sombra’s joke. Apparently, the old man wanted to be serious.

“I’m just wondering if you’ll ever find a place you want to settle down in. You seem like the wondering type.” 

Sombra hummed in agreement, “Means I’ll be taking the train a lot.”

“Huh.” Cartwheel looked out over the field; it’s deceptively inviting if you don’t know about the mud. “I’ll be retiring in a few days. Watching a pony almost drown in the swamp was the highlight of my career. Best quit while you’re ahead I always say.”

“You don’t say that ever. I’ve listened to you ramble for hours so I would know… You might as well give me your address so I can write.” Sombra took a bite of his sandwich so he would look less sincere, it didn’t work. 

“Oh, all right. Wait here, I have a package with my address on it.” Sombra took the old fool’s coffee thumris as he stood up. He might as well take a swig while the old train pony was distracted. Daisy Chain, Cartwheels wife, could brew like the best of them and this may be his last chance to have a drink. “I saw that you rotten thief!” Sombra had the decency to choke at being caught and smiled sheepishly as a very hard box left a permanent indent in his nose.

“What the fuck, you could have broken my nose!” Cartwheel didn’t look the least bit sorry as he took his thermos back since Sombra was distracted and blinded by unshed pain tears. 

“I told you I don’t like cryers now pipe down and open your gift.” 

Sombra was still pissed and in pain but the word ‘gift’ stopped him from committing murder or at least arson. The projectile was a brown box with the old bastard’s address on it in the ‘from’ section and it was addressed to… ‘Mud,’ Cartwheels demeaning nickname for him. 

“Geeh, how thoughtful.” But Sombra opened the box anyway, his old crown lay inside, he looked back at Cartwheel in shock, “How?”

Cartwheel looked mighty pleased over Sombra’s reaction. “I saw it at the pawn shop and thought it’d be a shame if you lost the only thing you ever owned. It was also marked down because it’s gaudy and nopony wanted it. Well… except this one orange earth pony with a cowboy hat, she wanted it. Fortunately, she didn’t have the bits; I like you kid but you’re not worth getting in a bidding war over.” 

Despite the multiple jabs to Sombra’s ego during the story (and the face trauma) he was genuinely touched. As far as he knew, nopony had ever done anything this thoughtful for him before. He didn’t know what to say.

Cartwheel held up his hoof to stop Sombra from trying to thank him, he seemed to know how much this meant to him. The train whistle announced its approached, the two friends stood up and gave each other one last hug.

Then Cartwheel pushed Sombra off the platform and into the swamp.