//------------------------------// // Shelter // Story: Sunset: Stranded // by Viking ZX //------------------------------// Chapter Seven - Shelter In the end, the lobby yielded several other secrets in addition to the water. After a short rest—and a third drink, just for satisfaction’s sake—Sunset had checked around the rest of the small business for anything useful. The tape in the supply closet was still functional if a little sticky, but when combined with a tough chunk of plastic hacked from a folder with her knife was able to make a functional—if temporary—seal, so at least the first jug she’d opened wouldn’t evaporate that quickly. Playing with the writing utensils she’d found and comparing them to another she found on a desk showed them to be unlike anything she’d ever seen in Canterlot. The tip was a small orb of some kind, held in place through means she couldn’t determine, and depositing ink as it rolled across the paper. Ink. Functional ink after who-knew how long. For a moment she seriously considered simply returning to Canterlot with every one of the pens she could find. Whoever invented these would be rich within a year, she’d thought as she’d eyed the pile of utensils. No ink cartridge, even. No inkwell. And manufactured by the hundreds, if the fact that they’re in an office that isn’t that extravagant is any indication. It didn’t take her long to cast the idea aside. For starters, there would be need to take apart a large number of the utensils to determine if Equestria even had the means to make them. In addition, becoming rich through an invention from another world didn’t sound at all like the destiny Pr—that her old mentor had foreseen. Still, she contented herself with clearing out the supply closet of a dozen of its utensils. There was no telling how long any of them would last, and learning to write as a minotaur did was something she would need to practice with once she had other obligations taken care of. Her continued search of the lobby eventually yielded a far more valuable find, however, almost as valuable as the water. A small, dusty cubby that had likely once been an employee break room. And in one of the tiny cabinets above the sink … Sealed cans of nuts. Row upon row of them, fourteen in all. She’d cracked one of them open almost immediately, pulling off a plastic top and a thin metal seal to expose the crunchy, salty treats within. After the water and one of her sandwiches, the salty treat had been an explosion of flavor across her tongue. She wasn’t sure what kind of nuts the mixture contained, but each of them had been tasty. She’d added thirteen of the cans to the floor next to her water, keeping the last one with her as she’d scoured the rest of the office, finding little that was useful. Still, she thought as she examined her collection, this is a good haul. Especially the water. The nuts were a good find as well. Nuts, from what she could remember, were a food that was good if you were going to be doing a lot of work or activity. Plus, the salt would be good for her as much as she was sweating. Assuming her new body had similar requirements to her old one. Though the presence of salted nuts, as well as how tasty her new form found them, suggested that there was at least some sort of reasonable need. She’d taken a single notebook in addition to the collection of pens as well. The paper was old enough that it was stiff, but it would be perfectly fine to practice on. Or perhaps start a fire with if the need arose. There was also the tape, which she’d added two rolls of to her pile, and last but not least … the rolls of waste paper from the bathroom and an old, dried bar of soap. In a moment of introspection she’d also taken several minutes in the bathroom with the door propped open to get a better look at some of the newer aspects of her physiology. It took a few minutes to figure out how her clothing was supposed to be removed—though it still boggled her that there were so many layers to it—but once she did she didn’t feel too awkward at the look she got. Unless this new species was vastly different in anatomy from her old one, she was definitely still female, and still had most of the same exterior elements. They were simply in new places. And adapted for two legs. Which still felt weird, even if the spell had taken some of the edge off. She thought about pulling off her boots and checking to see what had become of her hind hooves, as they definitely felt squishy, and poking the sides of her boots and trying to flex whatever was inside of them seemed to suggest that she had some sort of vestigial fingers there … But she wasn’t certain she’d be able to get the boots laces tied up the way they were currently. And with the glass she’d scattered across the lobby and the state of the city, the protection was more important than seeing what her new hooves looked like. Though they definitely weren’t hooves. Paws? A problem for another time, Sunset thought as she looked at her haul. Right now my problem is … how do I take all this stuff with me? The pile sat in the front room, almost taunting her with its value yet how out of reach it was. She could lift one of the water jugs without too much difficulty—she’d already checked—but there were four. And none of them would fit in her pack. Not that she would have been able to carry them that way if they had. The pens and notebook she could fit in there, as well as the tape, but the nuts? Figures. She stared down at the haul with her hands on her hips. The two most important things I’ve found here are water and food, and I can’t carry either. And I don’t want to stay here either, she thought, glancing back at the window she’d shattered. The sun outside wasn’t quite overhead now, the time of day looking as though it was moving further into the afternoon, and the sky was a clear blue save for a few clouds … but that didn’t mean the weather couldn’t turn on her without a weather crew around. Wild weather, from what she remembered hearing from diplomats, could turn in an instant, unpredictable and, well, wild. “So, Sunset,” she said, saying her name aloud. “You’ve got water. You’ve got food. Now you need shelter.” “But what kind of shelter?” She dropped onto one of the couches, at this point almost desentized to the dust that wafted up off of it and coated more of her body. Almost. She did wave some of it away from her face. “I could just stay here, but …” She took another look at the office around her. “Probably better to look for someplace that was meant to be lived in.” Or, like I was hoping earlier, find some camping equipment, maybe, and make it a bit more … liveable. “But if I go somewhere else, I need to get the water there with me. And the food.” She frowned and sank back into the couch. “This was a lot easier when I had a dozen Royal Guard and a team of porters doing all the hard work.” Hard work was right, too. She could feel soreness in her legs from all of her walking. And it wasn’t about to be over yet. She pushed herself up. “Can’t rest. Not now. Shelter before dark.” Yes, that was a good goal. Shelter before the sun went down. Or at least something close to it. On the positive, as long as I don’t get lost, I can make my way back here for food and water. She pulled out the small map she’d found and glanced at it. Her location—or close to it, anyway—had already been marked with a small, inked “X.” There was also the icon with the book on it, not too far away. But as much as she wanted to try and learn a little about the world she was in, there were more pressing issues. Nothing on here that looks like it denotes shelter of any kind. Or someplace where I could find it. Then again, it kind of made sense. The map had been made for visitors. Who— Wait, no, they’d need shelter too. But probably not the kind of shelter I’d need, she added. That’d be like a hotel, or a bed and breakfast. Assuming they had those here. She paused. And if they did, the second one would work. A hotel maybe as well. Really, just anything with a bed and a door that wasn’t boarded up. But there weren’t any icons that looked like a bed she could recognize on her map. Which meant that either it was text somewhere on the sides, wasn’t present at all, or … Maybe this species sleeps standing up or something equally strange. But that answer didn’t feel right, especially as she leaned back into the dusty couch, her new body feeling more relaxed with each passing moment. It felt like it enjoyed sitting down, or better yet, laying there for a moment. But … She pushed herself up. There’s too much to do. I don’t know how long the day is going to last, and I should find some better shelter by the time the sun goes down. There’s no telling how different this place may look after dark. Which meant leaving behind, however temporarily, her finds. For now. I can fit another tin of nuts in my pack, she thought. And I can take the notebook and the writing … pens. Plus I can refill my canteen. The rest of it, however, would need to stay put. There was simply no way to take it with her. But I can always find my way back. Especially with a map. That, and it would be hard to miss the freshly-broken window. I suppose I can always sleep here on one of the couches, she thought as she peeled the tape back from the top of her opened water jug and refilled her canteen, once again spilling some of the liquid across her hand and wrist. As long as the weather’s good. And nothing sneaks in the window. Maybe there was a reason everything had been locked up when everypo—everyone had left. Then again, she’d not seen any prints or tracks of any kind in the dirt. Not that I’ve really been looking, she thought as she sealed the jug once again. Or really even know what to look for. Now I wish I’d taken up a few of the Guard on some of their offers for more outdoor training. At the time, it hadn’t seemed important. But now … Every basic thing they told me already seems vital. The canteen went back to its place on her pack, and she squared her shoulders. How much better prepared for my destiny would I have been had I realized how important it would be? There was no sense in musing over it now. The decision had been made long ago. And I’ll just have to make do, one way or another. Her knife in her hand, she headed for the door. She paused only for a moment once she was out in the sun again, checking to make sure that the door was, in fact, open, and that she had unlocked it. After a quick test, opening and shutting it a few times to ease her mind—I’d rather not crawl through that window again—she turned and headed down the street, picking the direction of the book symbol on her map almost subconsciously. Though even as she realized it, it made sense. It wasn’t as though she had any other direction to go. And I can keep my eyes open for a hotel or a place to stay along the way. There’s got to be a store that sells stuff like that around here somewhere, right? She moved through the streets, slowing at times to ponder at the architecture and ponder on the design behind them. Everything is so ornate, she thought as she passed by another crumbling building, one that could have been a good candidate for shelter if not for the fact that half the front brickwork was sagging in an alarming manner. These streets and sidewalks are made of brick or cobbled stone, all the steps and stair railings are carved stone or cement … Even with the damage and the lack of care, this place is … almost beautiful. She changed course again, forced aside by a large blockade of rusted carriages and another one of the large sinkholes cutting across the street, so wide it had brought down two buildings. Strange that such beauty and detail would be built someplace that was so unstable. Maybe that was the reason it had been abandoned. She turned down a wide alley, climbing over a barrier clearly meant to keep the carriages from using the passageway. Above her, leafy plants hung from an arched causeway of sorts between the two buildings on either side of her, dangling low enough to almost brush her mane. That doesn’t make any sense, though, Sunset thought as she moved out of the alley and onto another street. This one was narrower, dirtier. Closer. But unlike the last, there wasn’t a gaping hole in it, nor a blockade of the metal carriages, and she could move forward in the direction of what she hoped was a library once more. If the city were built on ground that suddenly became unstable, then they wouldn’t have abandoned their carriages. And how do the barricades and battles fall into this? Or those … creatures? Was the city stable until they began fighting? Maybe the collapses were intentional, to hold them back? She shook her head, mane flipping around her face. I need more information. Were these creatures invaders from another kingdom or another nation? Maybe they weren’t connected at all? For all I know they’re scavengers from outside the cities, and they came in after almost everyone had left. The last thought made a faint shiver run down her spine, and she slowed, checking the buildings around her and the position of the sun once more. The nearby structures looked like small homes or apartments. Or at least, that was what they had been at one point. Shoved tightly together, several homes to a unit. And all the doors were blocked, entrances and windows boarded. She glanced down at her knife. Might be able to use that to pry some of them loose. Maybe. It’d take time, that much was certain. I need to think about this rationally, she thought as she started down the street once more. I have some water now, and some food. But I’ll need more of both. And I need shelter. Shelter right now being the most important, since I’ve got food and clean water. After that, she thought as she reached a T-junction. I’ll need materials to educate myself on this world. Which would mean shelter that could let her do just that. She paused for a moment, debating whether to go left or right, and then chose left. I guess I could just rip the boards down from one of these houses and see what it looks like on the inside. Which meant that shelter wasn’t a real problem as long as she was willing to do some work, but … Should I really be staying inside a city everypony else has abandoned? Even if she couldn’t see a reason why outside of the sinkholes, surely they would have stayed if there had been any alternative. But then if I leave, where do I go? I don’t even know where here is. What if the world outside the city is even more dangerous? What if—? “No.” She snapped her thoughts back, slowing to a halt and taking a deep breath. “That’s not helping. Don’t get distracted.” She took another deep breath, closing her eyes as she let it out. Just relax. You’ve got water. You have food. Focus on shelter. A tent. Or, if you want to hole up in a building somewhere, a way to move all your stuff. Work with what you have, not panic over what you don’t know. Ahead of her was a narrow intersection, partially blocked by one of the larger wagons. Its metal was black and charred, the glass long since gone. Parts of it looked as though they’d been violently torn away. There didn’t appear to be anyone inside. Not that she felt like looking. Past it, the city looked … rougher. More battered. The cobblestones beneath her boots were cracked and dirty. The carriages broken or dented. Many of their windows were missing, and she could see divots against the sun-faded paint. And ahead of her, as she turned down another street in what she hoped was the direction of the library— And a battered, worn-looking massive building rose a story or so about the others ahead of her, sitting opposite another plaza like the one she’d appeared in. Both bore signs of battle. One of the decorative pillars at the front of the building had been shattered by something, the heavy concrete lying askew in pieces across the steps and defensive barricades. A ruined statue at the foot of the steps had seen its upper body completely destroyed. Then there were the barricades, made of cement, metal, and sandbags. Old and weathered ones, now, leaking sand at the seams and from numerous holes. They had been set up all over the stairs up to the large … Well, I hope that’s the library. It made sense. Libraries, if they’re like those in Equestria, are a public location. Therefore an easy place to gather everyone for an evacuation. Or a slaughter. She wasn’t nearly so far away as to miss the limp figures hanging over the defenses or spread across the steps. More blue armor, faded and dirty, around figures that were little more than bone. But then her eyes moved to other figures, fallen among the fencing and barricades. Barricades that had probably been meant to guide evacuees, but then been crushed and trampled when the attack had come. Another shiver crawled down her back. The bodies were old, yes, and decaying, but there was no mistaking the look of the things that had boiled out of the park and attempted to storm the steps. They’re like the thing I saw in the market. Only the fact that they were motionless kept her moving forward. There were dozens of them, maybe hundreds. More than she wanted to count, or even consider. Little ones, like the creature she’d found first, their bones sitting in rusted armor. Larger frames, like the one she’d seen in the store, dried, hardened skin draped over bones and bits of sinew. And larger ones still, bones so big their bodies would have crushed her when they’d fallen. All of them lying on the cobblestones, or atop the stairs leading up from the park ...  Hundreds, she thought, her stomach feeling weak. There was no doubt that whatever they were, the creatures had been involved in the evacuation of the city. She could see the path of destruction in her mind’s eye, the way the defense on the steps had been built first. The attackers had come from the direction of the park, overrunning the defensive barricades there before storming across the street and up the steps … Did anyone make it out alive? She could feel tears in the corners of her eyes as she looked around the ancient battlefield. Bodies, everywhere she looked. Or did they kill everyone? There were more of those strange craters in the ground too, both down in the park and in the street itself. As well as dozens of the projectile weapons, some entirely new to her but still clearly arms of some kind. But … There was only one set of remains that wasn’t wearing any armor at all. And there weren’t any destroyed carriages nearby. So where did the people go? Her eyes slipped up the steps. The front doors were just barely open. Slowly, methodically, she began climbing the steps, a nervous void in the center of her stomach growing. What if they’re still here? What if … they didn’t make it? She had to know. She slowed for a moment at the top of the steps, only to shake her head and push onward. The bodies around her were bones. Whatever had happened, it had happened long ago. The doors were larger than she’d anticipated. The whole building was. Four, maybe five floors tall? she thought as she came to a stop glancing up at the overhanging over the door and trying to gauge if it looked stable or not. It definitely looked as though it had seen some damage, but … It hasn’t fallen yet. She brought her eyes down, away from the weathered and cracked facade over the entrance to the doors themselves. They were just barely cracked open. Leaving little space to see through, but enough for her to see that there was light beyond them. Guess there are windows in this place that aren’t on the front. “Okay, think about this for a moment.” The sudden sound of her voice, quiet as it was, resonating across the square, was almost unnerving. “The inside—what you can see, anyway—looks like more of the outside.” In other words, wrecked. Not that she could see much. “Do you really want to try and get through that gap?” She already knew the answer, even as the sound of her voice faded into silence. I have to know. To know if anyone made it out, or if this city is still abandoned because … Well, not all of them, but maybe most of them never made it. That, and she could feel some part of her mind pushing her to see what had become of the desperate holdout. Of the myriad bodies wearing blue armor scattered across the steps and street. I could turn back, and go keep looking for shelter, she thought. Or … She stepped forward, turned her body sideways, and tried to slide through the gap. No dice, she thought as her pack caught against one of the heavy metal doors. She shucked it from her shoulders, dropping the straps into one hand and then holding it out in front of her as she pushed through the doors again. They must have … shifted … after the attack, she thought as she once again found herself uncomfortably pressed up against both the large, heavy, slabs of metal. Who builds a door this thick for a library anyway? And why would a species have its mammaries here of all places!? Worse, the metal was still warm from when it had been in the sun. Maybe … She brought her free hands up. If I just widen this a little … Come on! She could feel the muscles in her forelegs—Arms!—quiver as she tried to move the heavy metal door just slightly outward. “Come on …” The straps of her pack had slid down into the crook of her arm, and she pressed harder. “Come on …! No wonder they hid behind these—!” With a faint squeak, the metal door shifted ever so slightly, her body slipping forward just a few inches. “That’s it!” She let out a grunt as she pulled harder, her fingers straining as she tried to force the door open. Come on! Just a little more! All she needed was just enough space to get her shoulder through, and the rest of her body could— The door gave again with a sharp squeal, this time almost an inch, and she jerked forward, her shoulder through the gap. Yes! Just a little mo— A sudden, sharp crack from above her brought her thoughts to a halt, and she tilted her head back, her body frozen. A single, clear crack was winding its way out across the stonework from above the door, slowly but surely, widening with each passing second. The door! The bottom fell out of her stomach. It was holding— GO! At some point during her realization, her arms had begun pulling at the door for all it was worth, muscles straining and heaving with exertion! Go! The crack was widening, small flecks of stone falling free and bouncing off the ground. Or her shoulders. And her mane. Give! Please, by all the love of the Creator just give! The cracking sound was growing louder now, the metal doors vibrating beneath her fingers as more dust and grit fell down from above, the split fracturing into several that fanned out across— The door gave and she flew forward, flinging herself away from the door even as the first hoof-sized bits of stone began to fall, one of them bouncing off of her shoulder. She let out a cry of pain, and then she was on the ground, curling herself into a ball as a thunderous roar filled the world, crashing down in a near-deafening crescendo. Dust billowed across her, filling the inside of the library. Almost as quickly as it had begun, however, the sound slowed, the constant crash of stone giving way to slower clicks and clacks as what few bits hadn’t fallen finally gave way. She uncurled herself from the floor, looking back and feeling her stomach give a lurch as she saw what had become of the entrance. The gap she’d forced herself through was filled with bits of stone, some small, but others almost as large as she was. By pure luck, none of them had made it past the doors—though a few had tried. But the heavy metal doors, it seemed, had held. However, her only way out was now blocked by a pile of collapsed stone as tall as she was. A shiver rolled down her spine. Had I tried to move back, or just been a second slower, I’d have been … The shiver moved into her shoulders, and then changed into a full blown quake. I would be … Gone. Destiny or not. I almost died. She pushed herself up onto her hindquarters, leaning forward on her knees, her whole body shaking. Dead. Gone. And what if I die here? Does my spirit find its way to the next life? From another world? Could it? Is that why she didn’t want me to go? The thought of her former mentor sent a shock of ice rushing through her, momentarily chasing away the shaking that had rolled through her just moments—Or was it minutes?—ago. And still she couldn’t force herself not to think of it. I could have died. On an alien world? What would have happened then? Where would I go? She could feel the corners of her eyes going damp. No. She wiped the faint traces of tears away with one hand, speaking aloud as she did so. “No. Maybe this turned her away, and I won’t let it turn me away. So I almost died?” She pushed herself up, ignoring the ache in her arms and the way her balance felt a little less steady than normal. “Fine. Happens to ponies all the time. That’s just part of the risk if you want to earn your future.” And I have earned it, she thought, turning to look for her knife and finding it a few feet away. I did everything I was asked, and more. And then she tried to take it away. She clenched her new hands tightly, ignoring the faint whimper of pain from her tired fingers and what was doubtlessly a growing bruise on one shoulder. I will have my destiny. What I am owed. No matter what tries to kill me. Her pack once again in place, she pulled her gaze away from the now-blocked door and, for the first time, got her look at the room she’d found herself in. It had been beautiful. Once. Grand, and sweeping. Now it … wasn’t. Oh, it was still overly spacious, yes. But that space was full of ruin. Shelves had toppled over. Several looked burned. What could have been the front desk in any library in Equestria had been heavily fortified with more of the sandbag barriers … and then overrun. Bodies lay strewn across it, around it, and up the sweeping, once-grand staircases on either side. At least, until the right one terminated in an abrupt break, the rest of it missing and probably rubble on the ground behind it. At least the place was still well lit. The upper walls were rowed with thick glass. At least most of the way. The back corner to her left had given way entirely, part of the building collapsing in—Might be a way out—and letting in a bunch of the plant-life. Which did explain the leafy vines growing over a good portion of the remaining shelves on that side of the library. And the books … There might be something here worth saving, she thought as she took a step forward, still taking in the ruin of the library. But it wouldn’t be much. The exposure to the outside world would have seen to that. Maybe in the far back on the right side. There had been glass display cases too, at one point. Whatever they’d held was long gone, as was the glass of the cases themselves, broken in pieces in the frames. It wasn’t hard to see where the battle had gone, either. There was a clear line of the bodies of the … things, whatever they were, making their way up the stairs. At the top, shelves had been toppled over to form a temporary barricade. And then, from the look of it, blasted apart. That was where she’d find an answer to whether or not anyone had gotten out, she suspected. But first, drawn almost by habit, she walked toward the front desk. It was, like everything else, a wreck. Old, decayed bodies slumped over it. A larger weapon of some kind, like a scaled up version of the ones littering the ground, had been mounted atop the desk. Like a ballista, or a siege weapon, some part of her mind suggested. Though not. It had been wrecked, the part of the weapon she assumed was pointed at the enemy little more than twisted metal scrap. A ruined set of armor shrouded in bone behind it told her what had become of the weapon’s operator. She reached the desk and peered over the sandbag barricades atop it. She counted four bodies behind it: Three armored, one not. All had either died in horrific fashion, from the state of their remains, or been—she shivered again—brutalized after they were dead, in savage fashion. What kind of monster would do that to somepony after they’d beaten them? That’s not victory, that’s just wanton cruelty. One’s skull had been crushed, another had their chest armor beaten in until it had doubtlessly collapsed their ribs. And the last … it was hard to say. The most accurate thing she could claim was that their limbs had been removed in violent fashion. Torn apart. She felt a tinge of bile grace the back of her throat. There were instances of such things in her own world’s history, of course, usually tied to the breaking. The jackals, for instance, had made a sport of eating their conquered. But they’d been driven to madness by an immortal. Maybe that’s what happened here? Sunset thought as she made her way around the edge of the desk, more flashes of metal catching her eyes. More of the blue tins the soldiers had stored their bullets in. A society that faced its own Breaking? Maybe that had been what the winged statues had been imitations of. Maybe a Breaking happens on every world? Could that be why I’m here? To interfere with a Breaking? Is that my destiny? She pulled her thoughts back. “Easy, Sunset. That might be a little past you right now.” One of the bodies was still wearing their gear pendants around their neck. Curious, she leaned over the barricade and picked one of them up, eyeing them and then comparing them to the pair she’d already found. The same shape, she thought. And the same shape as the logos on the brochure. A symbol of some kind? For them to rally behind? She held the two next to each other. Some of the lettering is the same, but some of it isn’t. Rank then? Names? Identification of importance or a role? The new set came free with a swift tug, and she added them to her pack alongside the first pair she’d found. If they’re important, and if anyone’s still alive in this world to find, then they might be good for bargaining with. Or perhaps, if they were markers of importance as she suspected, to get people to listen to her. Still, unless she was looking for old weapons, there didn’t appear to be much of use to her left behind the front desk. And the books are all ruined, she thought, glancing around the ruin of the library and taking in the decayed, volumes on what few shelves were still upright. Or at least, in terrible condition. Which made the likelihood of finding a book that could help her understand the language low indeed. But … Faded bright colors caught her eyes. Maybe a foals’ section? The books would be smaller, yes, but also simpler. Meant for young minds. However, before she’d even made it halfway toward the faded array of colors, she could see that there wouldn’t be much luck. Another one of the sinkholes had opened right under the shelves, knocking them astray. What few books she could see had been utterly destroyed, torn apart either by boots or by the nameless destruction wrought in the defense of the library. Which was, she reflected, a little strange. It almost looked as though something had exploded near the section. And there were the remains of bodies of more of those small things, and … Where did they come from? Teleportation spell, maybe? Was that how the defensive line at the desk had fallen? And what had caused the explosion? Teleportation magic was difficult to do right. It could explain the weird sinkhole on the floor as well, though … She shook her head, mane bouncing on her shoulders. Too many questions, Sunset. You’re getting distracted. Her eyes went back to the front desk, and then to the remaining set of stairs leading upwards. Find out if anyone made it out of here. The stairs themselves were carved out of marbled stone, the railings adorned with intricate detailing. At least, what she could see. Some of the leafy vines had made it far enough to twist up the railings or across the steps, and there they had flourished. They’d even grown across the dismantled barricade at the top. There was another body there, half crushed by one of the shelves. She wasn’t sure if that had been the blow that had killed it or not, but the helmet, with skull still in it, was sitting a few dozen feet away, so it seemed that their head had been ripped from their body one way or another. She shivered again. At least it wasn’t hard to see where the attackers had gone from there. A line of bodies—most of them the small ones like the ones she’d seen in the park, but there was a larger one here and there—stretched across the upper level of the library, past destroyed furniture and scorched shelves. They were lucky the whole building didn’t burn down. The bodies made a line toward a plain door on the far wall. A wall, Sunset noted, that was much closer to her than the back wall had been a floor below. They went to the roof, she thought as she picked her way across the floor toward the distant exit. In a way, it made sense. Superior ground is more easily defensible, if harder to retreat from. But if you have a pegasus carriage to fly away with … The door was, all things considered, fairly normal compared to the rest of what she’d seen in the library: A simple metal door with a push-bar across the middle, something that could have been right out of any library in Equestria. But then, that’s how the mirror portal was supposed to work, right? Find similar worlds? She pressed the push bar, and to her surprise it worked, the door opening with a metallic squeal of disuse but still opening. Beyond it was a rooftop plaza. Or at least, what had been a rooftop plaza some time ago. Now, part of it had collapsed, probably at the same time as the wall below her at the back of the library had fallen in. And what was left was either overgrown with green from nearby planter boxes or just dusty and dirty. Still, that wasn’t what she noticed first and foremost. First and foremost, there were no bodies. None. Not behind the stone benches and planter boxes as she walked forward, nor strewn across the stones. There were defenses, and even a few old dirty and dusty weapons like what she’d seen before. “But no bodies.” Despite everything she’d seen already, she smiled. “Someone made it out.” On an airship, perhaps. Or a carriage. Or maybe there were people with wings and they’d simply flown their charges to safety. But it wasn’t a massacre. There was no pile of bodies from people who hadn’t made it to safety. And that means there may be more out there. People I can find and meet. Not everyone had been subject to whatever savagery the attackers had planned. They’d escaped. Somehow. Which means I need to find them. When I’m ready. Which right now … She took another look around at the rooftop plaza. “Back to work. Shelter. And maybe a way to move my supplies.” And more supplies. More food—I’ll get tired of nuts eventually—and more water. Though now that I know water coolers are a thing, I might be able to find more water inside other businesses. She frowned as she turned and headed back toward the door. Breaking into one was tricky enough. At least moving in her new body felt fairly natural by now, though still slightly … off, like a fresh dress that she hadn’t quite gotten used to yet. But a lot of the places I’ve seen have been boarded up, and heavily. Well, at least this place wasn’t, she thought as she opened the door into the library and stepped through it. Probably because this is where everyone came after they closed their homes and shops up. Now … she thought as she looked down from the top of the stairs at the pile of rubble blocking the front door. To get out of this place. For a moment she considered taking one of the weapons scattered around, but then dismissed the idea. I have no idea how to use one. And once I figure out how to access my magic in this body, I shouldn’t need one anyway. If I do decide I need one, I can always come back.  Finding an alternate exit was actually fairly easy. Near the back of the library was another door identical to the one on the upper floor, with a sign over it that she guessed read “exit” in its language. It didn’t open when pushed, even when she slammed her shoulders against it, something on the far side blocking it, but thankfully, it wasn’t a big deal. After all, there was a fairly large hole in the nearby back wall, the rubble old and overgrown enough that she was fairly certain it wasn’t going to collapse on her before she could climb out. Nor did it, and as she dropped down onto a street once more on the back side of the library, she noted that she could probably use the same method to get back in if she needed to. She could also see what had blocked the door she’d tried to use: Some of the rubble from the roof had fallen right in front of it. I’d need to be an earth pony to even have a hope of moving that, she thought, eyeing the massive chunks of concrete. She took a quick look at the street around her. More of the same, really. Barricades. Abandoned carriages and wagons, some with the doors still open. Trees that had long since outgrown their place, the roots pushing the paving stones up and buckling the sidewalks. “All right … now where, Sunset?” The sun was closer to the horizon than it had been … well, however long ago she’d left her water. And put a clock on the list of things it would be nice to find. Maybe a pocketwatch. “The library was a bust, so … back to looking for good shelter, food, and more water?” At least the street she was on looked like a decent prospect for it. It was a bit tricky to see some of the building fronts due to the large, leafy trees blocking her view, but what little she could see looked like an equal mix of homes and small businesses. Good a place as any, I guess, she thought, checking to make sure her pack was secure on her back once more and picking a direction at random to walk down the street. Already she could see that many of the entrances had been boarded over or chained up. Still, there didn’t seem to be that much damage. In fact, most of them looked fairly intact, as if the calamity that had impacted the library had missed the segment of the street she was on. Mostly. Here and there were signs of violence. A broken window pane. A carriage with smashed windows. The faint whistle of birdsong, however, made it easy enough to ignore the damage and boarded doors and just pretend, for a moment, that it was merely a shaded summer day. She paused, almost tripping as her thoughts caught up with her. Wait, more birdsong? But there it was, echoing through the air. It took her a few moments to spot the source: Another small bird of some kind sitting on the branch of a tree across the street from her, whistling away. Her smile widened. Again, if there’s still birds singing, it can’t be all bad. I wonder if this one is friendly at all or— She took a step in its direction, and the bird cut off its singing with a sudden tweet, darting down the street and vanishing into the branches of another tree. Well, I guess not, she thought, eyes falling back to the space it had just vacated. Still, not all birds are friendly. There being birds is a good sign, so … Wait a minute. Past the branch the bird had just vacated was another small storefront, much like the others up and down the street. A glass window, made of smaller panes rather than one larger sheet of glass, and covered in dust. But that wasn’t what had caught her eye. What had captured her attention was behind it. Is that …? She stepped across the street, closing on the display window and stepping under the tree’s wide branches. “It is!” There, in the front window, was a wagon. And not just any wagon, but a big wagon. Sunset stepped up against the glass, wiping away the dust with her palm to get a better look. The wheels were large, round, and bulbous, made of the same rubber-like material on the carriages, only they were clearly filled with something and under pressure. The bed was so long she almost could have laid down on it, and wide enough that she could have laid on her back with space on both sides. The walls were solid for about half the length of her foreleg—Forearm—and then after that were made up of a metal mesh of some kind. But there was a bundled cloth clipped beneath it. A cover. So that the walls can be solid. Maybe even rolled over to make a top. It was perfect. The wagon was high enough that it would easily traverse most of the rubble she’d walked over, and more than large enough to carry food, water, equipment … Everything I need! She pulled back from the glass, glancing up at the sign over the door. “What kind of place would have a wagon like … Oh, that makes sense.” Above her, a faded sign bore language she couldn’t read … but a few images she was familiar with, if only in passing. Chief among them a garden hoe and a spade. “A garden supply shop,” she said, peering back through the glass and into the darkened interior of the building. “And that could be … actually pretty helpful.” The packets of seeds and what looked like long-wilted and dead plants likely wouldn’t be useful, but past them, she could just make out the shadowed shapes of what looked like tools. “And even if they aren’t useful …” Her eyes dropped down to what was right in front of her, through the glass. I need that wagon. Badly. Naturally, the front door was locked. And chained. Guess I’m not getting in that way, she thought, staring at the wagon behind the glass. Now what? Break a lot of windows? And wood. Assuming that isn’t reinforced. Which, from everything else she’d seen so far, from the chains to the boarded doors … Wouldn’t be all that out of place, really, she thought, stepping back slightly and frowning. The next time somepony tells me I’m overdoing it, I’ll have a new example to give them. Focus. I need that wagon. Maybe I can break the chain? She moved over and gave the metal links an experimental tug. They clinked against one another but held, shiny under the layer of dust she’d knocked off. Nope. Not without my magic. Come on Sunset. Think! There was a small lock holding the links in their loop, but she didn’t have a key for it, and it didn’t look any less sturdy than the chain. Or the metal handles the whole assemblage had been looped through. “And even if I get the chain off, the door’s still locked,” she said, scowling as she jiggled one of the handles. Somewhere up the street the bird had started tweeting once more, apparently unbothered by her voice or what she was busy with. “So I can’t get in that way.” She stepped back, her eyes climbing upwards to the windows on the second level of the building. There were, it appeared, a few windows there as well. But none of them were open. And the last thing she wanted to try doing was climbing in her new body. I was never very good at climbing in my old one, anyway. “Maybe … a back entrance?” There had to be one, didn’t there? Another way into the shop? After all, most homes had several entrances, to say nothing of shops. She eased herself to one side, and then to the other. “Hmm …” Not much space to squeeze through. The alley between the shop and its neighbors was so small as to be nonexistent. I’m not even sure a dog or a cat could squeeze down that. She, in her new form, was completely out of the question. But there was a glimmer of light at the other end. The building definitely had a back side. She just needed to figure out how to get to it. And get into the right one when I get there, she thought, looking up and down the street and spotting the nearest intersection. It was six storefronts down. So down that street, then six buildings this way? Six buildings and another carriage, it turned out. Someone had left theirs in the middle of the narrow back alleyway, effectively blocking the end she’d approached from off and forcing her to scramble over it. More tests of my new form, she thought as she slid off the end of the carriage, arms flailing slightly to help with her balance. It’d be nice if it at least had a tail or something. Or some of those wings I saw on that statue. Maybe once she got her magic back, that’d be something she could look into changing. As long as I don’t stand out too much, she thought, counting the backs of the buildings until she reached the sixth and then locking her eyes on the seventh. Just as she’d hoped, there was a door set against the back side. Simply painted, simply designed, with neatly paned glass, and best of all, not chained. Though there was a dusty metal lock below the doorknob. Maybe she’d be in luck. Maybe it wouldn’t even be locked. Maybe— The doorknob clicked beneath her hand and refused to budge. Stupid lousy daughter of a moon-addled pig-keeper! She cranked the knob the other way and was met with the same clicking resistance. Why couldn’t they have just …? She let out a loud sigh. Fine. It’s locked. Think. How else could I get in? She took a step back first, looking up at the rest of the building. Once again there were windows up across the front. And once again, they had the same drawback as the windows from out front: Too high to climb to. Probably locked anyway. She scowled, glancing around the rest of the slightly dim back street. The sun was getting lower, only the upper half of the shop getting light thanks to the other buildings around her. Eventually, the sun would be completely down, and night would fall. And I really don’t want to be sleeping on a couch where I found my water when that happens, Sunset thought as she stepped up to the door again, peering through the glass. If I could just— She almost winced as the answer jumped out at her. She could see the doorknob on the other side of the glass. Or at least, the inner half of it. Complete with a little metal tab on the end. Just like some of the door locks in Equestria. Like minotaur-make. And the only thing keeping her fingers from twisting it the other way was one of the small panes of glass that made up the rear door’s window. Thick glass, she realized after her first smack with the handle of her knife bounced back. Then the second. And the third. Really thick glass. But glass has a weakness. It’s tough if you make it properly, but a sharp corner, or a knife, can break a pane easily! She smiled as she opened her eyes, looking down at the knife in her hand. Just like the last one. It still took a couple of taps with her blade for the pane to splinter and crack, but at long last it happened, the glass breaking into several pieces. A few more hits knocked them from the frame, back onto the floor, and then she was reaching through, carefully keeping her arm from the few pieces that were left, wrapping her fingers around the small metal tab on the doorknob, rolling it to one side and … With a click, the lock gave, and she let out a triumphant shout as the doorknob twisted, turned … and gave before her, the door opening inward at last. I am in! She stepped across the broken glass, her grin so wide it felt almost as if she could have seen it from the corners of her eyes. I’m in and  now … Which way do I go? She’d been so focused on getting in the door that she actually hadn’t paid much attention to what lay past it. Which was … a small cloak room, from the look of it, with a passage that led to what she assumed was the shop and a set of carpeted stairs on her left heading up. Dusty, but … Carpeted, Sunset thought as her eyes followed them upward. They went around a corner, out of sight and shadowed. That could mean that the upstairs was the home of the one who owned this shop. She took a quick sniff of the air. It smelled … dusty, like it looked. But that was it. Not musty, which would have implied water damage of some kind. There might be a lot more here than just the wagon, she thought, taking a second to sweep the glass she’d broken over the doorframe and into the alley with her boot. Then a bit longer to shove it off to one side where it hopefully wouldn’t get in her way. Then she closed the door behind her. Shop first. It was a straight shot in front of her toward another door, this one not just unlocked but not even latched. It was a free-swinging door, the kind one would find in a restaurant or a cafe, though minus the usual small window. She pressed it open. It swung easily, the hinges not even squeaking as she stepped into what was clearly a small rear stockroom. Very small. But well-kept, like the door had been. And dark, she thought, wishing once again that she had her horn, or at least that she’d found a way to use her magic. But it wasn’t too hard to simply hold the door open with one hand, and the stockroom itself wasn’t that large. There was truly only one row of shelves, right down the middle of the room, half-full of large boxes and other assorted bricabrac. It was flanked by similar shelves on either side of the room, and on the back wall, all holding a similar collection of odds and ends or packaged items that had yet to be removed from their boxes. She took a moment to take them all in. Rows of flowerpots and planter boxes, still wrapped in plastic. Boxes with labels she couldn’t read, and no pictures to go with them. Bags of sod. At least, that’s what it smelled like they were. That accounts for the dusty smell. Or at least, isn’t helping. But there wasn’t anything too notable that she could see. Not that she wanted. And not that I’ll be able to check without some light to open those boxes by, she thought. A few on the lower shelves were particularly large. Could be worth checking out. But later. If she came back. The front of the store … that was what mattered. And thankfully, the door forward was straight across from the one she was holding open, and similar in style. She let go, took several quick steps … and then she was pushing her way into the shadowed front of the shop. It smelled even earthier there. It wasn’t hard to see why either. There were several shelves and rows of what had once been potted plants, but were now nothing more than dessicated, dried out stalks and bare earth. On the plus side, while there had been lights of some kind set above them, there hadn’t been fans. Otherwise that dirt would be everywhere. The interior was dim, but there was enough light for her to see that the floor was clear all the way to her prize, and she practically ran over to it. “It’s perfect.” The words slipped out without her even meaning to let them as she touched the wagon for the first time, running her fingers over the warm metal mesh walls. “Perfect!” It was even better looking when she was right next to it. The tires were massive and knobbly, with plenty of clearance underneath them. The bed was, to her surprise, made of some sort of plastic rather than metal. “Must be really tough plastic,” she said absently as she pressed her fingers against it. The material didn’t give. The mesh walls, she could see, were removable, and the tarpaulin material she’d seen was indeed a cover that could be rolled over the walls and top and attached with metal clasps. Even the handle was impressive. Not only was it coated in a sort of rubbery material and contoured to her grip, but large yet still light. Tabs on either side of it caught her eye, but after a moment she realized what they might be for. “They’re for rope,” she said, looking at them. “So you could make a harness? Maybe?” Still, pulling a wagon with a harness sounded easier than pulling it with her hands. “Or maybe …” There were a few small boxes in the bed of the wagon. She pulled her attention away from the handle, toward the boxes. None of them were sealed, and it only took her a few seconds’ worth of fumbling to pop one open and see what it held. A … hitch of some kind? She wasn’t quite sure what the plastic-wrapped object was, but from the look of it, it was  to … “Replace the handle?” It was a hitch. Designed so that someone could replace the handle and use the wagon as a smaller wagon to the carriages she’d seen, perhaps. Or maybe even another wagon! She checked the back, and as she’d guessed there was an attachment there between the rear wheels. “To connect more than one wagon,” she said, grinning despite herself. “That’s smart. And kind of fantastic. It’d be a wagon train.” She let out a snort of laughter as her words caught up with her. It was perfect. And, since there was no one around to tell her otherwise, it was hers. Sure, it wasn’t shelter like she’d been looking for, but it was a way to lug her water with her. I could fit eight of those water jugs in here easily, she thought, looking down at the bed. And maybe … It was tricky climbing into the wagon, especially as the wheels were free. But the floor was level, and in a moment she was lying on her side, legs tucked up slightly beneath her. It wasn’t comfortable, but it did work. Except that the clasps for the cover were on the outside of the mesh, not the inside. “Still, I could make it work.” She sat up, took another look around at the wagon, and then climbed out. “Well, I guess my library detour was worth it after all.” No shelter yet, but ... She eyed the boxes on the back of the wagon once more. Better, she decided, to leave them and check them out later. After all, no one was going to complain if she simply tossed them on the side of the road. I can check each one later, she thought, grabbing the handle and looking at her route back to the rear entrance. And come to think of it … Why not check the rest of the shop for anything I need? The sun was getting lower, but it still didn’t look like evening yet. I have time, she thought, peering back at the darker sections of the store floor. And I have a wagon if I find anything I need. There might not be food here, but there could be useful tools. She moved to the back of the store, where she could see shadowed but faint rows of what looked like gardening implements arrayed along the back wall. The rear was dim enough she had to wait for her eyes to adjust, but once they did, she could at least make out what most items were with a bit of a squint. “No … no … no,” she said as her gaze passed over rows of rakes, spades, and hoes in sequence. Then they stopped on a row of heavy-looking axes. “Okay, those could be useful.” Smaller hatchets were hanging behind them. Another useful item. “Sledgehammers?” Her mind flashed to the chains hanging from the building’s front door. “Yes.” Trowels and other small earth-moving implements not so much. But an unfamiliar-looking saw, with the toothed blade strung between a bent bar of metal, almost like a bow? That could go in the wagon. Along with what looked like a whole selection of replacement blades behind it. In fact … She backtracked, heading back to the front of the store once more, and grabbed the wagon’s handle. Why wait? This will fit down the aisles if I’m careful. And there weren’t many that she’d need to go down anyway. She wasn’t planning on looking at dead plants. Back in the rear of the store, she began adding her finds to the wagonbed. An axe first, followed by two hatchets—no sense in not having a spare, and more than once the Guard had pointed out to her when camping with … her old mentor … that a hatchet was a useful tool in any excursion. She added a third. Can’t be too careful. And what was a belt-harness of some kind for holding one. There were pictures on the label, so hopefully it’d be easy to figure out. Which reminds me, she thought as she added a single sledgehammer and then one of the saws. What about a sheath for my knife? At the moment it was laying in the bottom of the wagon, within easy reach if she needed it, but carrying it with the blade out was … well, risky. I was already lucky not to cut myself on it when I dove out of the way of that rubble in the library. She grimaced. Or when I climbed into that storefront and found my water. She nodded. Definitely look for one before I go. It wasn’t that likely, but on the chance … Why not look? Especially when this place has tools like these in it, she thought, collecting a crowbar from next to the saws. The heavy metal was cool against her palms, and she carefully added it to her growing selection. Unfortunately, what else she could pick out along the back wall wasn’t of use to her at all. Apparently, she’d exhausted the supply of ‘other tools’ the shop had held, as once past the crowbars, it went right back into more traditional gardening implements. There was a selection of picks—probably for helping lever out rocks—but she decided to leave them alone. Ultimately and unfortunately, after walking up and down the other aisles, she didn’t find a sheath for her knife. She did, however, find something just as useful near the front counter. Right below the register was a small shelf. And on it stood row after row of flashlights. Working flashlights. Small ones. Big ones. Sizes in-between. All of them working, though how, she wasn’t certain. She pointed one at the back wall, impressed by both the brightness and the steadiness of the beam. Equestria is definitely behind on whatever technology this is. Flashlights there had been an uphill battle from day one, thanks to most unicorns knowing a way to make light with their horn. Pegasi and earth ponies had enjoyed them, but even then there were glow jars, lightning in a bottle, and any number of other competitors to something like a magilectric flashlight. I guess that wasn’t a problem here, Sunset thought as she tried another flashlight. One click of the button turned it on, another made it brighter, and the last made it go dim. I wonder how these work? And how long they last? That was other issue with them in Equestria: they just didn’t last, not without regular use of magilectrics to recharge them. She picked up several and turned toward her wagon, only to reconsider and take all three trays, setting them in the bottom. Better safe than sorry. For a moment she glanced at the items around the flashlights, but she wasn’t sure what any of them were, and with the shadows outside the shop starting to get longer … Still, they looked interesting. And curious. Who would package up a whole array of metal cylinders? she wondered. They don’t look like the bullets I saw earlier. Unless they were a different kind of ammunition. But … In a garden shop? Next to flashlights? The other items she couldn’t parse either. Some were obviously trinkets. But the whole array of small, wheel-and-switch-topped oval cylinders? She examined one for a moment, tapping the switch, but nothing happened. A mystery for another time, I guess. She had the flashlights, she had the tools, and she had her wagon. She moved for the rear entrance, the wagon rolling along behind her and bumping against the two rear doors as she entered the cloak room once more. Now to … She paused as her eyes slid to the stairs. What about the second floor? Clearly it wasn’t part of the shop. She was almost certain it was a private residence. Or had been. But a private residence meant— Food. Maybe even a bed. Supplies. Shelter. After all, the rest of the building was in good shape. Dry. Sealed. She reached for one of the flashlights. It felt … weird … to be walking up the steps, following in the path of her beam. Like she was intruding on someone else’s privacy. “Relax,” she muttered under her breath. “There’s no one home.” Or maybe there was. Or had been. And she’d find yet another body, dried and halfway to dust. “No,” she said aloud as she neared the top of the steps, glad to see that the upper windows were letting in light, her flashlight not the only source. “If that were the case, they wouldn’t have locked the front door from the outside.” Assured, she rounded the landing and got her first look at the upstairs. It wasn’t occupied. In fact, whoever had originally owned it had gone so far as to put dust sheets over everything before leaving, like some of the old or unused rooms in the palace back in Canterlot. And it looked … nice. Homey, and a little simple, but nice. And warm. Stifling, actually. But that was because of lack of air flow. If I opened a few windows … Sunset shook her head. Wait. Not yet. Check the rest of the building first. Make sure there aren’t any … surprises. And I left my knife in the wagon. She frowned. Not like I know how to use it. She paused for a moment, almost deciding to go back and get it, but then pushed on. Kitchen. Okay. Might want to check the cupboards later. Dining room. Sitting room. Bathroom. Closet. And … bedroom. All of it with furniture covered. She pulled one corner of the dust sheet back, exposing a bed that had been made who knew how long ago, still waiting for someone to find it. “It’s a whole house,” she said aloud. “Ready for someone to come back.” A set of dressers lay open, most of the clothing gone. Pictures looked out of alignment, as if a few had been taken. Taken by someone who’d never come back. She moved back to the sitting room and looked out the front windows over the street. The sun was definitely lower. But if it got dark, well … “I have flashlights.” It wouldn’t take her that long to retrace her steps to her stash, wagon in tow, and load it up. Bring her food and her water back to the shop. It wouldn’t serve as a permanent place for her to stay, not unless the taps ran, which … She paused for a moment and checked. They didn’t. So it wasn’t a good place to get settled into. But it certainly wouldn’t hurt as a central location to operate out of. For day or so, at least. Maybe more. A location to gather more resources and to plan her next move. She smiled. It had been a long, trying day. But she was making it work. Water. Food. Shelter, she thought. She’d need more of the first and second soon enough. But with shelter to operate out of … It was a good start. “I’m on my way,” she said, eyeing her reflection in the glass. Then she turned and moved across the room, back toward the rear steps. Best to get her things while she still had light. On my way to my destiny.