//------------------------------//
// 16 - Ball and Chain 
// Story: The Hollow Pony 
// by Type_Writer 
//------------------------------//

When I finally began to feel my hinds again, they announced their presence suddenly and loudly, and it was only polite to convey their message to the rest of the prison. I let out a throaty screech, and fell off of the cot as my hind legs spasmed wildly.

Dinky jumped away in surprise as I flopped onto the stone floor, and I just barely avoided landing atop her. "Wha- Holly?! What's wrong?"

I let out a keening wail as I pressed my fores against my hinds, and attempted to keep the buzzing, throbbing sensation still. "L-legs! Feel m-my legs ag-again!"

"Breathe! In and out, slowly, and focus on my voice. It's, uh, it's probably gonna hurt for a while, just focus on me and it...should pass?"

The funny thing was, after the initial burst of mind-shattering agony, they didn't actually hurt exactly. It was more of that same pins-and-needles sensation that I had felt when I had first awoken, and had needed to learn once more the sensation of feeling. It was like I had wasps buzzing inside of my flesh, and when I pressed my hinds tight against the stone, the buzzing calmed.

As I calmed, and the cool feeling of existence reasserted itself in my legs, I felt myself exhale in relief—and then the breath caught in my throat. I had been breathing the entire time as I was focused on my hinds, without need for thought or pulling my attention away. Without knowing she would, Dinky had accidentally helped kick-start my autonomous breathing. But even as I realized this, I began to focus too much on it, and lost my grasp on the sensation.

Not this time, I swore to myself. Not when I'm so close. I leaned back against the edge of the cot as Dinky held me close, and I closed my eyes to focus on myself. Zecora had only barely touched on meditation past the beginning of my training, but I recalled it as best I could, and I let my awareness fade. With it faded the last of the pins and needles.

I found my fire, and felt the cold iron around my legs as they constrained it. But that was fine; I didn't need to push my flame out, I just needed to use it to center myself. I inhaled, then exhaled, slowly and gradually. I focused on my lungs, and where they were in relation to the nearly-snuffed center of my being.

I breathed in, and my fire flared as the air in my lungs fanned the flames.

I breathed out, and my fire flickered as the air left me.

Then I began to shift my focus. My attention was no longer on my lungs; to manually work them required a great deal of effort, and I had little remaining for anything else. Instead, I focused on the flame, my dear flame, and how it flared and flickered. So long as I watched that flame, I could trust my lungs to fulfill their duty.

I opened my eyes, and I was breathing.

I couldn't do it autonomously, sadly. I wasn't there yet. Maybe I still needed some piece of knowledge or understanding, or maybe I just needed enough practice that it would form into a habit. But it was a hundred times easier to focus on my flame alone, than to manipulate every muscle of my bruised and battered lungs individually.

Dinky was still by my side, and she gave me a look of worry as I relaxed, now that the pain of my hindlegs regaining function had faded. "Holly? How do you feel?"

"B-better. I f-feel a lot b-better now." And it was true. My breath came easier, and with it, my speech evened out. I hardly needed to pause to catch my breath at all now, though my traitorous lips and tongue continued to betray me, and made me trip over the words as I tried to give them a voice.

My eyes caught those of Trixie. She was still lying languidly across her cot, but I had the absolute of her attention; Dinky had said she was an experienced Pyromancer as well? She must have felt it, from where she lay. I had no doubt that whatever I had just done—even while bound in cold iron, or perhaps because of it—had gotten her notice.

And as soon as our eyes met, her lips curled in a grin that seemed almost feline. "Holly, was it? How much time did you say you spent training under this 'Zecora?"

I shrugged, and began to struggle to my hooves. "N-not long at-at all. W-we had just gotten thr-through the b-basics?"

Trixie's only response was a thoughtful hum, and the matter was quietly dropped. Dinky hadn’t even noticed the exchange, and I was only barely aware that Trixie seemed to know something I didn’t. That was hardly a surprise, in my Hollowed condition.

When I tried to stand, any confidence that I had regained alongside the feeling in my legs fell away. My hinds shook as they took on weight, and they felt even more atrophied than the rest of my body. Being separated for as long as we had been, I was surprised they could move at all. I decided not to push it too far, and simply settled for sitting back atop the cot. Dinky joined me now that I wasn’t occupying the entire surface with my crippled body, and we sat side-by-side, to face Trixie as we talked.

That was one thing Trixie could do very well, whether her hooves were in chains or, I assumed, she was pacing the length of a stage. She could talk, for hours and days and weeks on end, it felt like (I desperately hoped that it hadn’t literally been weeks). She had claimed to be bored before, when Pinkie had come to see us, but I think she missed an audience more than she missed company. Dinky and I could hardly get a word in edgewise as she talked about everywhere she’d traveled in detail, the places she’d been, the things she’d seen, and the ponies she’d met.

The city of Las Pegasus was a favored topic of hers. I had no memory of the city before, which led me to believe I had never been there before my Hollowing, but from her description, it sounded like a fascinating place to visit. The city was too far away from Celestia’s sun for the light to reach it as anything more than a dimly-lit dusk, and the desert was shrouded in shadow. But the city was so bright that it lit up the night, all the way from the earth pony mining town on the ground, all the way up to the floating pegasus casinos high above. Even now, with everything that had happened, the city fought to stay sane and keep the lights on. Even the shows still ran, so the performers would not forget their craft, nor would the militia there forget what they fought to protect.

To the far southeast sat the village of Somnambula, and when Trixie spoke of it, Dinky sat up and helped fill in the gaps. Somnambula was one of the Pillars of Equestria, like Magnus, Rockhoof, and Meadowbrook, which was news to me. I had wondered idly why Rockhoof and Meadowbrook spoke so intimately of events long before our own endless time, and apparently, they had all been pulled from the past to our modern era, just years before the sun stopped.

Dinky had met them a couple of times formally as Princess Twilight’s student, but she knew Magnus and Rockhoof the best, as they were the only ones who actively operated in Ponyville. I gained new respect for them, now that I knew they had been through so much to fight alongside us. I was only stunned slightly that I had simply blundered across three ancient heroes with barely any sort of notice or fanfare; maybe the fame had rubbed off during the wars against the dragons and demons.

As for the village of Somnambula itself, it was the eponymous pony’s hometown, just as Baton Verte had been Meadowbrook’s. Apparently as a pegasus, she could more safely travel between there and Canterlot. From what Dinky had picked up from Magnus and Rockhoof, Somnambula was studying alicorns, like Celestia and Princess Twilight. She seemed to believe they had miraculous powers due to being living goddesses, and ponies were gradually learning how to imitate those powers, so they could be used against the demons.

“Pffffft, powers of the goddesses?That’s rich! Next time I’m down south, I’ll need to congratulate her on an excellent grift! I bet she’s not even really ‘from the past.’” Trixie waggled her hooves sarcastically as she repeated the phrase. “I’ll bet Somnambula Isn't even really her name—she probably just looked a bit like the statues, and decided to take advantage of some gullible villagers.”

Dinky sighed in exhaustion. I couldn’t blame her—trying to tell Trixie stories where she wasn’t the focus seemed to be an exercise in frustration. “Look, I’m just telling you two what Rockhoof told me, okay? And before you start, they’re absolutely from the past. Rockhoof and Magnus know way too much about Equestria from a thousand years ago to be faking it. Especially Magnus; he told me in so much more detail about Pegasopolis than a pony could recite from a history book!”

“Hah! They’re faking it. If you can’t confirm what they’re saying, then how do you know it’s not all made up, huh?” Trixie sat back on her cot, with a smug grin plastered across her face, while Dinky spluttered quietly beside me. “Powers of the goddesses? I knew Twilight Sparkle, and she wasn’t a goddess. Just a dorky librarian who got a pair of wings she couldn’t even fly with.

“Besides, I’ve been to Canterlot—or at least, I’ve tried to go to Canterlot, since this whole demon business started. Whole town is locked up tighter than a barrister’s wallet.” Trixie shrugged, and waved her hoof in what was probably the general direction of the city. “I guess Celestia decided she needed to collapse the pass you’d use to roll a wagon into Canterlot. I can’t imagine why; it’s not as if the demons are rolling catapults and trebuchets around.”

Finally, Dinky seemed to agree with Trixie on something. “Yeah, Magnus mentioned to me once how Canterlot was locked down. Only the couriers can get in or out, to convey reports and orders back and forth along the supply lines. There’s even an interdiction field keeping pegasi grounded—I guess they already had one aerial attack.”

Trixie chuckled again. “More lies from your friends! How are they flying in and out, then? That desert cleric, the old soldier, or these supposed couriers all have to be getting in and out somehow.” Trixie sat back and looked up at the wooden beams that supported the ceiling. “No, I bet they have a ground path, if there really is an interdiction field. Some hidden way up the mountain and into the city. Probably nothing I can get a wagon through, but I bet I could still get in on hoof...hm…”

Trixie’s thoughts were interrupted suddenly, by the sound of hooves in the stairwell. Dinky and I turned to face the entrance, hoping Snails had come by to check up on us, but we both slumped slightly when we saw Applejack emerge instead. She glared at us as she entered, and another guard trailed behind her, with two rolls of cloth over his back.

“Prisoners! I have an opportunity for you, to help you earn your freedom.”

Dinky raised an eyebrow, and I shifted to look at Applejack more directly. Trixie snorted derisively at first, but she gave Applejack her attention. “Oh? And what generous deal do you seek to make with us, then? Slave labor? Target practice?”

“Labor, of a sort.” Applejack grabbed one of the chairs at the table with her teeth, and then pulled it over to sit in front of our cell. Her guard continued to stand at attention by her side. “Now, as you might recall, our relationship with the Golden Guard is a little strained right now. They’ll come to heel in time, but until then, I got work that needs doing. And that’s where you come in.”

The guard pulled a drawstring on one of the cloth bundles, and a set of basic quilted barding unrolled from within. A mouldering leather scabbard, about the length of a shortsword, also swung free and hung by the strap.

“My duty is to keep Ponyville safe, and one of the things I gotta protect it from is certain groups outside our walls. In this case, it’s a horde a’ bandits that attacks the gates from time to time, and raids the farmhouses left abandoned. Ya’ll know what a hog is?”

We all nodded, in curiosity and confusion (or, at least, I certainly was confused, having never heard talk about “hogs” up until now).

“Good. Lots of farms around here used to keep them as guests, since they’re happy with a roof over their heads and scraps to munch on. They usually earned their keep by hunting for truffles and disposing of said scraps, so it worked out for everyone involved.” Applejack snarled suddenly, and leaned closer. “Well, at some point that changed. Now they’re unified, and they seem to have a grudge against us ponies, though I got no clue what we did to earn that.”

Applejack leaned back, and used her hoof to indicate the equipment still held by the guard. “Two of you would be given basic armor and weapons, as you can see here, and free reign outside the walls. We’d escort you to the door, and let you back in once you proved the work was done.”

Dinky tapped her hoof on the mattress for emphasis. “And what work is that, exactly, that you’re asking us to do?”

Applejack shrugged derisively and scowled. “Kill ‘em, scatter their gang to the four winds, or just steal all of their equipment; Ah don’t care. They stole an old Apple Family heirloom from our farm, and I know it’s one o’ their proudest prizes. Bring back mah Granny’s lucky horseshoe, and I’ll consider them dealt with.”

“Mercenary work, as a penal unit?” Trixie huffed, and flicked her messy mane. “The Great and Powerful Trixie is no mercenary. Why can’t you and your hick militia deal with this yourselves?”

“Oh, we can,” Applejack motioned to the guard, who began to place the rolled-up quilted armor onto the table behind her. “In fact, it’d be near-trivial to take a group out and burn their little camp to the ground. But I’d rather not waste the time it’d take to hunt them down, nor the resources, and I figured you seem to care about Ponyville plenty, and the defence thereof. So why not try and make a deal that works for the both of us?”

Trixie scoffed again. “And what is to stop us from simply leaving? Why come back to Ponyville, when we would already be free and outside the walls?”

“You in particular?” Applejack motioned to Trixie. “Well, I still got your wagon, and the contents within. Reckon you’d want that back, huh?”

“Ah. Collateral.” Trixie spat the word in disgust, but nodded. “Then Trixie is at least marginally interested, with one caveat.”

“Not in much of a bargaining position.” Applejack’s glare was hard, daring Trixie to push her luck, but Trixie didn’t rise to meet the challenge.

“Oh, nothing so dramatic as to inconvenience you or weaken your...collateral. All Trixie requires is her hat; the rest of the wagon’s contents are to stay safely inside the wagon, within your possession, until Trixie has fulfilled her end of the bargain.”

Applejack considered Trixie for a long few moments, and the showmare busied herself by casually examining her hooves. Eventually, Applejack nodded. “Alright. Ah can understand the sentimental value of a hat. I’ll have it for you when you arrive at the gate, in case it contains any...surprises.”

She turned to Dinky next. “As for you, filly, your collateral would be-”

“I’m not going.” Dinky interrupted her. “Not interested. I’ve seen enough of the world outside the walls, and I’ve had enough adventure. I just want to stay here in Ponyville, even if I-” She swallowed. “Even if I have to stay inside this cell.”

“Hmph.” Applejack snorted as she looked her over, and her eyes turned to me instead. “Alright. Hollow, can you walk again? Ain’t got much use for a lame pony.”

I hesitated, and pressed myself closer to Dinky. “Y-yes, but-” I didn’t want to leave Dinky here. And I might not come back either; Dinky had already known far too many ponies who didn’t return for her.

Applejack didn’t care to let me protest. “Alrighty, then your collateral is Dinky’s freedom to move inside of Ponyville again. I might even let her earn her title of Archmagus again; Ah’m generous like that.”

Dinky narrowed her eyes. “But not Holly’s own freedom?”

“She’s a Hollow. Ah’m not lettin’ her wander freely ‘round Ponyville to infect the rest of us, no matter what she’s done. She can stay in this cell when she’s not working outside the walls.”

It was more freedom than I had currently, but it still wasn’t a good deal for me. But it was a better deal for Dinky, and that was more important. I still didn’t want to leave her here, by herself.

Dinky seemed to sense how split I was, and she pressed her head against my breast. “It’s...it’s alright. We shouldn’t both stay here until we both…” Dinky swallowed again. “I’ll be okay. Go.”

It hurt. I desperately didn’t want to leave her here, for fear of what might happen to her while I was gone. But she was adamant. If this was what it took to free her, then it would be worth it.

But in the moment, it hurt to pull away from her, and get to my hooves.

Applejack nodded as I stood. “Good. I’ll give you the armor and swords at the gate, so there’s no funny business on the way there. And your hat,” she added, as Trixie slid off her cot behind me and stretched like a cat.

“The great and gracious Trixie thanks you,” Trixie muttered, with sarcasm dripping from every word.

Applejack turned to the guard behind her first. “Roll that one back up and gallop over to the northwest gate. Grab her hat too, and tell Snips and Snails to help me escort these two there.”

The guard blinked at her, before he replied in a growling and ragged voice, “Snips is st-still missing, m-ma’am.”

“Ugh, right. That colt…fine, Ocean Breeze can fill in for him. Need unicorns who can watch for any magic tricks.”

He nodded, and rolled up the armor and sword into a tight bundle once more. Applejack waited until he had galloped upstairs, and Snails and another guard had joined her, before she withdrew the key from under the collar of her armor. She unlocked our cell while the other two guards nervously waited a few steps away, and she flicked her head as she swung the door open. “Follow me.”


*	*	*


The northwest gate felt oddly familiar, and after Applejack left us alone with a small squad of guards, I looked around to try and figure out why. Eventually, I worked out that this area might be where I had originally run across the top of the wall. I’d been so close to the gate to begin with, and hadn’t been able to tell? If I’d followed the wall the other direction when I first arrived, would I have encountered this gate?

It was a moot point; the guards wouldn’t have let me in, even if I had some way of communicating with them from outside the wall. But it was slightly frustrating to know how close I had been so long ago, if I’d only known a little bit more, or searched a little bit harder.

Applejack returned a short while later. “Gate’s gonna open soon, and might be a fight. Best if y’all get your armor on before going out, though I’ll ask ya not to draw your swords until the gate’s open, at the earliest. I’ll unlock your shackles and such now, though you’ll be keeping the collars, just so you don’t forget.”

I nodded while Trixie scoffed, and Applejack pulled out her key once more. She unlocked my wing bindings first, then the shackles around my legs. I sighed happily as I felt the anti-magical pressure of the cold iron release my flame, and I let it fill my body once more, while Applejack moved to open Trixie’s bindings.

Trixie’s strange birdcage helmet was the first to be removed. Applejack lifted it off with her teeth, and Trixie shook her head to loosen up her mane again once it was off. It had still left her mane pressed down in a strange way along the back of her neck, and it clearly bugged Trixie, but she waited until Applejack had removed her shackles. Once they were off, Trixie began to fluff and brush her mane, until it looked marginally more presentable.

Applejack waved another guard forward, who held our armor, and Trixie’s hat. She didn’t even wait for him to get close before she grabbed it with her magic; everypony jumped, and the militia ponies grabbed their swords, but Trixie only brought it to her breast, where she hugged the ratty, star-spangled apparel close like it was it was a long-lost lover.

While she did that, I worked to unfold the quilted barding, and examined it. It seemed to be sort of like a jumpsuit made of a heavy wool quilt, with a row of buttons that ran along the barrel, and it looked like it ran all the way down to the knees of my hinds. The only places it didn’t cover were my head and the ends of my legs, and even as old and ragged as the wool was, it looked like it would be fairly comfortable and decently protective. The heavy wool would absorb most blunt strikes, and provide at least minor resistance to piercing blows. Slashing attacks would damage the exterior layer of the wool, but presumably the rips could just be sewn up as needed after a fight.

As far as armor went, this was surprisingly generous. I had expected little more than a padded tunic, but I felt as though I could take a blow or two while I wore this barding. Still, I noted that it was only good when attacked in those situations; I was still very vulnerable to being lit aflame, splattered with fluid, crushed, or being thrown up into the air to let gravity do the work for my opponent. 

And, of course, my head was still bare and completely exposed. When Trixie joined me and donned her own barding, she at least had her hat to cover her head, flimsy fabric though it might be.

Applejack looked us over after we had pulled on the equipment, and I coughed gently to get her attention. “W-why are you g-giving-”

“The armor and weapons?” She finished the thought for me, and I nodded. “Not too much use against demons anyhow, and they’re not so valuable we can’t afford to lose ‘em. You ain’t seen your swords yet, heh. Besides, if you decide to take advantage of your freedom and attack us, or maybe join the hogs in their fight—which I doubt, seein’ as you’re not hogs—we can take care of you without much trouble, even when you’re equipped like this.”

I looked around at the militia ponies who were guarding us, who wore leather or metal armor over their own padded barding, and used pikes and freshly-sharpened blades. A great deal of the guards were unicorns as well, who seemed to be specifically watching Trixie. Applejack was correct; I had absolutely no interest in fighting these ponies, and even if I did, we would have no chance against their training and equipment.

“In the interest of returning as quickly as possible,” Trixie asked, as she caressed her hat, “Do you have much in the way of clues as to the location of these ‘hogs,’ we’re being sent out to fight?”

“Wish I did,” Applejack shrugged, and focused her attention on the gate. “Best we got is that we figure they’re holed up at a farm somewhere. The cows are missing too—that might be their work, or the demons. If’n they did take the cows for themselves, then the farms are the best place to keep ‘em, but that’s nothing but guesswork.

“Speakin’ o’ the demons,” Applejack continued with a chuckle, “We saw a couple of ‘em snuffling around the wall about a mile east. Bring back their hides or horns, and we might see about getting you two some more-valuable equipment. The more dead demons there are, the better.”

“The Great and Powerful Trixie will consider it,” Trixie said, in a tone that bluntly stated she would do nothing of the sort.

“Well, reckon you’re set,” Applejack looked back up atop the gate. “Open ‘er up! Look sharp, ‘case we got guests!”

The soldiers around us all readied their weapons, while the ones atop the gate began to unbar the great door. I remembered what Applejack had said about drawing our own weapons, but I couldn’t keep myself from at least putting a hoof on the grip of my shortsword, in case I needed to draw it quickly. A worrying amount of militia ponies seemed more focused on us than the door though, and especially on Trixie.

Wood and steel groaned in a symphony of strain as the gate opened, and I shivered slightly as I waited for something, anything, to happen. Would a smaller demon, or some unfortunate equine, try to dart inside past us? Or had a larger demon been waiting on just the other side of the wall for this moment? Would the doors suddenly be bashed inwards, and force us to duck?

It was a relief when nothing happened at all. The gates simply opened, and a thin skein of fog rolled in through the gap to settle around us. We couldn’t see much further past the gate, because of that same fog, but the militia ponies around us at least partially relaxed. They seemed content that nothing would enter to attack them, and their attention refocused on pushing us out the door.

“Alright, git. Come back with mah Granny’s lucky horseshoe, or the head of their leader; either’s good. If ya ain’t got either, then don’t come back at all.”

Trixie glared back at Applejack as we began to trod forward into the fog. “Glad you’re so concerned for our wellbeing.”

“Nah. Ponies I’m concerned about are here, inside the walls.” Applejack gave us a smug wave, as the gates shut between us. They closed with a final slam that echoed through the fog, and we could hear the quiet rumble of the locking bar on the other side, as it slid back into place.

“Th-they don’t s-seem like they w-want us to c-come back…?” I looked around us for any hope of a landmark, but there seemed to only be the gate and the walls to either side. Trixie had busied herself by giving her blade an inspection, and she clearly found it wanting.

“They don’t.” She replied bluntly. “Look at this steel. I’m not a swordspony, but even I can tell this blade is junk. Did they pull this out of a shipwreck?”

I was curious, so I drew my own sword, and winced. Rust had stained the blade, and the chips and notches from an eternity of wear and tear seemed genuinely sharper than the edge did. The shortsword wouldn’t be much good for cutting, but it would at least bruise my enemy, if I used it as a club.

Trixie glanced over to see it as well, and she actually broke out in giggles. “That’s what they gave you? Luna’s moon, that’s in even worse condition. It’s a good thing we’re not actually going to go fight those pigs.”

I blinked dumbly at her, as she sheathed her blade and looked around. “W-we’re not?”

“Of course not. The Great and Powerful Trixie has much better things to do with her time.” She looked at the wall, and how it disappeared into a dark blur in the foggy distance. “You mentioned a hole in the wall earlier, and that’s how you got into Ponyville. I can use that to sneak back in, get to my wagon, and then I just need to get into the school for my, ah, supplies.”

I furrowed my brow, and pointed back at the gate with the end of my shortsword. “W-what about D-Dinky? Are w-we gonna g-get her out, t-too?”

“What?” Trixie looked at me in confusion, before the realization dawned across her muzzle. “Oh, you’re serious! No, I don’t plan to. You can if you want. In fact…” She smirked. “That’s perfect, that should make sure the militia’s attention is elsewhere.”

I shook my head, and sheathed my dull blade. Flakes of rust were scraped off as it didn’t quite fit inside the leather. “I’m n-not a d-distraction.”

Trixie tilted her head and looked at me cooly for a few moments. Eventually, she nodded. “You’re not as Hollow as you look. Alright, then, I’ll work out something while we look for the hole. I should have a new plan by then, that works for both of us.”

“Th-thank you.”

Trixie barely acknowledged the thanks as she turned around, and started walking along the wall into the fog.. “You’re welcome. Now, lead me to this hole in the wall.”


*	*	*


“It w-was somewhere ar-around this ar-area…”

“Trixie is beginning to lose faith in your sense of geography.”

“S-sorry...It all l-looks the s-same, o-out here...” Every time we found a road, or even a decent hoofpath, I got my hopes up. But there really hadn’t been much to distinguish the exact road I had originally walked, and it seemed like a lot of roads had entered Ponyville from the surrounding farmland. The best I could do was lead an increasingly-exasperated Trixie over hillocks and around sickly groves of trees, while we both peered up at the wall above us for any cracks in the ramshackle surface. I wasn’t even sure we’d followed the wall the right direction to begin with.

“Alright, enough of this.” Trixie held up her hoof a few minutes later, and we both stopped to rest beside a broken tree. It had rotten and hollowed out long ago, but the thick trunk still stood up straight as it reached up towards the fog above us. “Do you have any idea where we’re going at all? Because for all I know, you could be leading us into the Everchaos by accident.”

“I’m s-sorry, I r-really d-don’t-”

“Shush. Trixie is thinking.”

I swallowed my mounting annoyance and nodded, while Trixie massaged her temples with a hoof. She muttered to herself quietly a moment later, and seemed to be thinking out loud. “I should’ve just tried the double trick, but it would have been difficult with all those other unicorns watching me, maybe if I’d made a big show of putting on my hat…but there were too many eyes, too far spread out, for a flat image to cover every angle, that clever hick…”

I tried to tune her out and give Trixie her privacy, while I looked around the fog. But without anything to focus on, I quickly found my attention wandering. Oddly enough...I swore I could hear a stringed instrument being plucked nearby. Maybe on the other side of the wall? In any case, it helped me think, and I turned back to Trixie a few moments later.

“M-maybe we sh-should just f-find th-those hogs? Like Ap-Applej-jack wants us to?”

“Ugh, the mercenary work? Don’t tell me you actually believe that gryphon scat.” Trixie shook her head in clear frustration, and then moved to the broken tree, where she sat against the side and looked up at the wall. “Look, maybe it’s not obvious to you, but the hick doesn’t actually expect us to do that. It’s an old trick to get rid of stuff or ponies you don’t want, or don’t need; you use them up.”

“I d-don’t f-follow...?”

“Take fireworks as an example. You have too many fireworks to safely carry around, or the next town over has some strict rules that prohibit bringing them in city limits, or whatever. Point is, you have too many fireworks. Following so far?”

“I th-think so?”

Trixie waved her hoof upwards. “So, the easiest and simplest solution is just to use extra fireworks at your next show. That uses the fireworks for their intended purpose, and it makes for an especially grand finale, which really wows the crowd. It’s win-win. The hillbilly’s deal is the same thing; she gives us junk she can’t use and sends us outside, which lets her get rid of us guilt-free because technically she gave us a chance, and it’s our fault if we run off on her, or if we actually do try and fight the hogs and die like idiots. The point is, now she doesn’t have to worry about us, and she doesn’t have this busted junk taking up space in her armory.”

I mulled that over for a minute or two. “Wh-what if we act-actually do the j-job?”

“What, you mean actually fight the gang?” Trixie actually laughed at that. “Just the two of us, against Luna knows how many pigs? I could probably take them, sure, but I’d be surprised if you could fight a single piggy by yourself. You don’t look like the fighting type.”

“W-well, wh-what else are we sup-p-posed to d-do?” I raised my voice in exasperation, at the thought that I might have just left Dinky by herself by taking this stupid deal.

“That’s why I was looking for this supposed hole in the wall! So I could get back in without having to follow that stupid bumpkin’s-”

“For Celestia’s sake, would you two just shut up already?!” A voice hissed angrily from above us, and we both jumped. Trixie in particular let out a very filly-like screech as she shot up from where she had been sitting, and we both looked up in surprise at the cream-colored head of a pony who had been hiding in the felled tree. “You’re going to attract every demon in the county with your damn arguing!”

“Who the hay are you?!” Trixie asked, in a low hiss. On the other hoof, I actually recognized her; she had been one of the two ponies who I saw Applejack kick out of town when I first woke up in Ponyville. Pinkie had said their names at the time, but it was too long ago for me to remember.

“I’m a magical tree nymph, and this is my tree. Go find your own!” The mare waggled her hooves in a mockingly mystical way, before she hunkered back down inside the cracked trunk, and only barely kept her head high enough to peer out at us. “Seriously, buzz off. Hay, I’ll give you directions if it’ll make you leave faster.”

“Y-you will?” I stood up a little straighter in surprise.

Even Trixie looked cautiously intrigued. “Wait, about the pigs, or about the hole in the wall?”

“Hole in the...oh! No, not that, they sealed that up a long while back.” The mare flicked a hoof further down the wall, where we had been going. “It’s all full of rubble now, and totally impassable. I think they plan on patching it up properly and just keep forgetting.”

“So the pigs, then.” Trixie’s expression soured.

“Well, they call themselves the Ashen Wallowers, but yes. I’ve been keeping an eye on them, and even scouted out their base to make sure they weren’t a threat to-to me.” She stumbled over the last couple of words, but just kept pushing forward. “They’re out at the old Pie farm to the southwest—you should be able to follow the road signs—and they’re hiding out in some of the old buildings there. Built kind of a camp around the main farmhouse and barn. They’re really getting into the whole bandit thing, and they’re surprisingly organized.”

“Organized?” Trixie scoffed in disbelief.

I looked up at the mare, while Trixie continued to chuckle quietly at the thought. “Ar-are they H-Hollowed? L-like us, or b-burning, l-like the d-deer?”

“Oh, those poor deer…” The mare ducked her head down, and sighed in sympathy. “They’re a little bit of both, I think. I’ve had to beat up a few of the Wallowers, when I ran into a passel of them on one of the farms, and they seemed to regenerate like us—they even had the black mark on their flanks. But they’re also a little bigger than they used to be, and a lot tougher; I think they’ve been kind of exposed to the fires in the Everfree, but it hasn’t driven them nuts just yet.”

“Are you still considering that?” Trixie groaned at me. “Listen, even if you bring back that bandit king’s head for the bumpkin, she’s just going to keep giving you more and more dangerous work until one of the jobs kills you. That’s how that sort of thing works, and it’s why Trixie only works for-”

Trixie cut herself off suddenly, and spun around in a tight circle to look all around us. “There it is again! Did you hear that?”

I blinked at her in confusion. “Wha...D-did I hear wha-what?”

“Somepony’s playing a harp, or a lyre, nearby…shush, you’ll hear it too.”

The mare in the tree stump suddenly looked nervous. “I didn’t hear anything. You’re crazy.”

“Shush!” We all listened intently, as we glanced around the fog that surrounded us. After a moment, I heard it too; more strings being plucked, the same sound I’d heard earlier. It didn’t sound like it had been from over the wall; it was too quiet and too clear for that, and Trixie understood that too.

Her ears focused towards the tree stump, and the mare who had taken up residence within. “Is there another pony in there with you?”

“No.” We all went quiet again, and the gentle tinkle of strings as they were rhythmically plucked slowly echoed through the fog. It was a haunting effect, for the sea of mist that had enveloped our world, but it was definitely close. Eventually, the two of us just staring at the mare got to her, and she huffed loudly through her nose. “Fine. Yes, she’s here. Congratulations, you broke the code. Can you buzz off now, already?”

“Is-is it the oth-other mare? The H-Hollowed unicorn y-you had w-with you?”

The mare looked down at me more closely, maybe to see if she recognized me. “Her name is Lyra. Yes. Why?”

I nodded, and looked back towards the gate. “I w-was there w-when Applej-jack kicked y-you b-both out. I s-saw it all hap-happen.” I ducked my head. “I sh-should have t-tried to h-help. I f-followed them f-for a wh-while, but c-couldn’t.”

After a moment, the mare above me sighed, and I looked back up at her. She had turned to glance over her shoulder, down into the hollow tree, where her Hollowed companion was hidden. She looked back to me, and our eyes met, before she sighed again. “No, no you shouldn’t have. It’s not your duty, not even for my wife. But I appreciate it all the same.”

She shook herself, then ducked down into the tree. I almost thought the conversation had come to an end, but she re-appeared a second later, with a small cloth bag held in her hoof. “I overheard you two say the equipment they gave you was busted? I can’t help you with your job, because I can’t leave Lyra here by herself, but maybe I can help give you a fighting chance against the Ashen Wallowers. Draw your sword, and hold it up for me.”

I stepped forward to do so, and the mare leaned out of the tree to take the rusted blade in her hooves. Now that I was closer, I could peer into the broken tree, and could actually see the Hollowed green unicorn as she played her lyre, with Bon-Bon standing above her. She looked peaceful, and content, as she plucked the strings with her hoof and hummed quietly. Behind me, Trixie sighed and muttered to herself, “I guess we’re doing this. Fantastic. The Great and Powerful Trixie, reduced to mercenary work…”

The mare rolled her eyes, and held the blade out so I could watch her work. “Remember what you said earlier about the fireworks? Got one of those situations right now, sort of. We’re trying to travel light, and one of my old tools from back in the day is this repair powder.” She held the sword in one hoof, while she held the bag in her other hoof, and tugged open the drawstring with her teeth. Slowly, she began to pour a strange, glittering golden powder over the length of the rusted blade, and I leaned in closer to watch. 

As the powder poured onto the rust, it seemed to shrink back into nothingness before my eyes, and the original unstained metal underneath was revealed. The nicks and scrapes across the surface of the blade healed themselves, as though the sword had never been damaged.

“I don’t know how this stuff is made, or how it does what it does—as near as I can tell from all the times I’ve used it, it seems like it turns back time in a really localized area—but I should have just enough left to fix a weapon or two.” Even as she spoke, the powder dwindled to a trickle, and she sighed before she let the now-empty bag into the dead grass. “Not even that. Alright, rub the rest across the blade until it’s all used up.”

I took the shortsword from her, and began to rub my hoof through the powder, then across the rest of the rust. As I did that, Trixie looked up at her in suspicion. “This is unusually charitable, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, well...we could all stand to be a little nicer to each other, in times like this. Maybe we have to fight to survive, but we can’t forget what makes us Equine in the process.” The mare watched as I worked, and the melody of stringed notes echoed through the fog around us once again.

The dust seemed to dissolve into nothing as it worked, and soon there was simply none left. The blade didn’t quite gleam, and still had uneven streaks of rust across the surface, but the edges were sharp and the metal seemed strong once more. The mare nodded in approval as I held it up for her to inspect, and I sheathed the sword again until it was needed. Then I looked back up at her. “A-are you g-going to st-still b-be here, if w-we m-make it b-back?”

She shook her head. “No. We’re leaving soon, and we’re going to try and make it to Canterlot. I still have contacts there—I hope—and we should be safe.” She looked back down at the other pony, hidden from sight, and sighed sadly. “If we go, we go together.”

I swallowed a lump in my throat, and held up my hoof. “Th-thank you, and g-good l-luck. H-Holly.”

“Bon-Bon,” she replied, as she pressed her hoof against mine. “You’re welcome. Audi, vide, tace, si vis vivere in pace.”

Trixie’s eyebrow rose, as I stepped back. “What’s that mean?”

Bon-Bon chuckled quietly. “An old traditional farewell, from some older friends. Old Unicorn. I’m surprised you don’t know the meaning, Trixie, or...maybe I’m not.”

Trixie nickered in annoyance. “Trixie has better things to do than learn dead languages.” She turned back to me with a scowl on her face. “Are we done here? Don’t we have a suicide mission to embark upon?”

I nodded, but Bon-Bon’s eyes lit up suddenly. “Oh! Almost forgot, be careful when you’re traveling. The Apple filly is stalking around the wall for some reason, and she almost beat Lyra half to death before I fought her off. I still don’t know why, she just ran off before I could ask any questions.”

Apple Bloom was still hunting for us? I thought we’d left her behind, back in the Everchaos. Why would she still be hunting for me, and presumably Dinky and Snails? I felt a cold feeling of dread settle into my gut, and I shivered for some reason. It felt like we were already being watched.

Trixie didn’t seem quite so affected. “Right, right. If we see her, we’ll tell her you said hello. Come on, Hollow, let’s get moving.”

We began to walk west along the wall once more, and I couldn’t help but glance back one final time at Bon-Bon. She watched us leave with a sad look on her face, and when the fog between us began to grow too thick to see through, she ducked back down into the safety of her hollow tree. Hopefully, she and her wife would get to Canterlot safely.