//------------------------------// // Chapter 8 // Story: A Hero's 'Tail' // by Garamond //------------------------------// After taking a break at our base camp in the Everfree Forest, (which I found out later was at the same time conveniently in the center of, yet isolated from, the Equestrian conflict) we packed up and headed out to Ponyville, which was about half a mile from the forests edge. As our car pulled up, six mares emerged from the shadows, all armed and armored, carrying ordinance that made our own weapons look like colt’s toys. Grit popped the top hatch, grinning. “Hey mates! Where’s my Scootaloo?” “Aye, and where’s my little bro, Pipsqueak?” Breadstuffing asked, unrolling a window and poking his head out the side. “Breadstuffing? Grit? Ah thought y’all’d tooken up lootin’ in the Mild West!” Applejack exclaimed, the Gatling gun attached to her saddle via tripod spinning slowly. “Nah, we found out working as lab guards paid more. Speaking of, hey Quicksilver, come out here and meet The Valiant Braves!” Grit shouted down the hole at me. “Grit… I’d rather not…” I said uncertainly. I’d never interacted with ponies besides my mom and Grit’s gang. “Oh c’mon, they’re nice folks. Say hi!” Grit replied, popping his head back down inside as the other bandits filed out. “My eyes, my mane… I’ll be an outcast…” I muttered, looking down in fear and shame. “You’ve faced 3 tanks and ranks of soldiers, son—ah, kid. Please? For yer uncle?” Grit grinned his Grit grin at me confidently, hoping to win me over. I smiled, answering, “Sorry. Can’t I stay in the APC?” He sighed, beckoning to one the Valiants to come here. “I’ll leave you two to it. I’ve got my sister Scootaloo to attend to.” He said, trotting off the ramp gaily into the sunlight. A small yellow Pegasus mare with a pink mane walked up the ramp and sat beside me. “Hi, I’m Fluttershy.” She said quietly, grasping my hoof. “What’s your name?” She asked, her foreleg in mine strangely comforting. “I-I’m Quicksilver. Hello, Fluttershy.” I said, drawing out from my dark corner into the daylight. She stepped back a pace at the spectacle that was my eyes, shivering. “Well, let’s go meet the others, shall we?” “I’m sorry to have startled you. And, yes, gladly.” I replied, stumbling over my words in an effort to be friendly. *** We sat down to a huge repast at Sugarcube Corner, the local bakery. I took a place between Grit and Fluttershy. As the spread was laid before us conversation began picking up. I leaned towards Grit, asking him, my voice barely above a whisper, “Why do I have to be Quicksilver?” “Well, you don’t know where you’re from, and if people recognize your name then you could open old wounds and such. Best to let dead ponies be dead, eh? Also, Quicksilver is a neat name, don’tcha think?” Grit murmured back, patting me on the shoulder. “Let’s tuck in!” He announced in a louder tone. Everypony began chomping down on vittles with a zeal uncharacteristic of the few prisoners I’d seen back in my days at the lab. “So, Quicksilver,” Twilight started, turning to look at me. I shrunk away slightly under her gaze. Her intimidating velvet eyes seemed to bore into my soul. Noticing my discomfort, she said, “Let me introduce you to our merry band. In the kitchen Mr. and Mrs. Cake,” She pointed to two homely ponies just visible through the kitchen swing doors, “Fluttershy, as I can see you’ve already met.” Fluttershy reddened slightly, glancing away quickly. “Rainbow Dash, Pinkie Pie, Applejack, Rarity,” Twilight rattled off, gesturing to each in turn, “and then there’s me, Twilight Sparkle, protégé of the Princess.” Everypony waved, greeting me. Twilight took a breath, waiting for the introductions to die down, and then asked, “How’d you come to meet our pal Grit here?” I looked towards him, expecting permission to tell my story. He cordially gave me a hoof’s up, indicating for me to do it. “Well, I was raised at the lab Grit guarded.” I said softly, still very nervous. Fluttershy patted me on the back, reassuring me. “Oh. What was it like at the lab?” Twilight inquired, bringing a notepad to bear with her magic. “Well, for the first week they just filled me with drugs and did surgeries on me. Then one day, I was led into a large room and given this weird pair of artificial wings…” All reservations thrown out, I began reciting my story from my first day of flame training up to that point. When I had finished, I looked around. Everypony had stopped talking, all eyes on me. Fluttershy was shivering compulsively, and Rainbow’s mouth was hanging somewhere between her stool and the floor. Applejack was the first to speak. “She did WHAT to yer wings?” Pinkie Pie jumped right in after AJ. “And they tortured you? That doesn’t sound fun at all.” My eyes nervously wandered to the point of least resistance, which happened to be the mahogany table I was leaning on. “Don’t hate me, please…” I muttered just above a whisper. “I’m not a monster. I saw the looks the townponie’s gave me as I left the APC.” Fluttershy grabbed my hoof again as Twilight replied in a maternal way, “Oh Quicksilver. We couldn’t hate a fellow pony, especially not a special snowflake like you. You’ve been given a gift, and you’re apparently using it to help other equine. I bet your parents would be proud.” I cringed, remembering Ms. Bryant’s orders nearly two years ago. Orders to raze the town, to blow it to bits, to annihilate it. It tore my heart out, filling me with tears, which Twilight must’ve noticed, for she attempted to comfort me. “I’m sorry, I’d forgotten about the unicorn. You’re home now, though, right girls?” There was assent all across the table. “And ya’ve got yer Uncle Grit ta talk ta whenever ya need it.” Applejack chimed in, coming up from behind me to pat my head. I smiled and thanked them. Grit broke the moment by cutting in. “I don’t know about you all, but I’m exhausted. Quick, you can stay with me at sis’ house, aight?” “Sounds like a plan. Where will our bandits sleep though?” I asked. “Bread and Foaler are shacked up at Bread’s parents house, you’re with me, Hoofstavson’s with Fluttershy. Beerwarmer and Harvest Barley are sleeping in the APC to make sure it isn’t stolen. We’re all taken care of.” Grit replied, clapping me on the shoulder. “Let’s go get some rest. You’ve got some scouting to do tomorrow.” I nodded and followed him out the door into the street. Turns out Cheerilee only had one spare bed, but Grit took all the sheets off his kip, and with a few clever loops, made me a pretty nice hammock to sleep in. “Go ahead, jump on it. Don’t worry, I guarantee my knot’s are sound.” He said, beckoning to the cloth cocoon, swinging between two rafters in the loft. Trusting him, I shrugged, pouncing on it, unfurling my metallic wings. Lo and behold, it held my weight very nicely. “Thanks, Grit.” I cooed, snuggling deep within the fabric’s folds. “Any time, kid. Good night.” Grit patted my head and loped off to his own bed.