Chapter Three
Fate rarely works in the manner of one's choosing.
The last time Falcon Wing walked down this road, he was accompanied by the two stallions and they were departing the then-flattened Ponyville ruins. Now he trotted with Alana, the two looking as they always have: Falcon in his vest and cloak and Alana wearing her gray barding. The town, renewed, grew smaller behind them and the worn, cracked road extended far ahead over rises and dips in the land. The debris of overturned carriages and wagons had been cleared from the stretch of asphalt, gathered up as scrap and other resources. Weeds poked up through the cracks and grew up the rusted, misshapen rails on either side of the road. The decaying metal shells had been replaced with actual life, however small it was. The land that was once dead and barren now made its mark on the creations of ponies. Trees on the roadside cast long shadows across the asphalt way under the risen sun.
By time they got to that beat up green sign at the edge of Hope, the sun was high in the sky, just before the midday position. From there, the two ponies made their way to the lone grave marker, where Falcon watched Alana sit in silence with her eyes closed from a short distance away. He scuffed at the ground uncomfortably all the while; he did not like seeing her like that as much as he did not like seeing her angry. But how could he ask Alana not to visit her mother's grave? Wasn't dealing with the unpleasantness of life as opposed to avoiding it a testament to somepony's character and strength? That did little to make the silence any less disconcerting though. It was all too easy to forget that a pony as cheery as Alana could carry the burden of grief.
Falcon opened his mouth to say something but decided against it, frowning. He wanted to ask a question, one about them and what they were to each other. He knew they were more than just friends...but they weren't exactly lovers. They shared the same bed but the most they had ever done was...hug each other. That -and waking up in the most peculiar arrangements that boggled the young stallion's mind as to how his and her body did not ache considerably by the time they woke. He found it odd how he developed these feelings for a mare he knew next to nothing about and felt no urge to change that, more than happy to have her presence around him. He had a less than stellar record all his own without asking Alana about her past...and he had more than enough reason to suspect life had not treated the caramel mare well. Misery loves company as he once mused.
This was not the place to inquire about the subject however, and it certainly was not the right time. He pushed those comparatively trivial concerns away and went back to studying her from his spot a few yards away at a shallow angle off to her left. Her posture was slumped over the grassy mound and she shook with silent tears. Reflexively, the red pony closed the distance between them with a haste and put his forelegs around her as she had done for him when he started crying. It took a lot to keep himself from crying with her. Again, he opened his mouth to speak but changed his mind before anything was uttered. He wanted to comfort her and offer some words to ease the pain but had nothing to say to that end. Falcon Wing -he whose life was defined by fate's cruel callousness- had nothing to help another deal with their own sorrow! It actually made his blood boil how useless he was right then as he remembered the day Fogchaser died, how he wished he had known something more than applying bandages and drinking potions.
His hold on Alana tightened. His eyes were clenched shut. His pelt warmed with his inner fire, which flared with all of its scalding fury directed towards himself. How he wished to shun her teardrops and pain! How he wanted to do for her what she had done for him many times before! His orange eyes opened when he felt her snout against his cheek.
"Thanks, Falcon," she said, and he noticed that she was not trembling anymore. Trails lined her own cheeks and her eyes glistened wetly, but there was a small smile on her face.
"Don't mention it," the red pegasus replied with a smile of his own, his frustration melting away instantly upon hearing her voice. And all of a sudden it did not matter that he did not quite know what he was to the mare with the caramel coat and purple mane. He knew he held her dearly in his heart and she did the same for him. Everything else beyond that was not important.
Hope was still a city of austere gray ruins and wreck-strewn streets, but it was far less depressing underneath a blue sky. Falcon and Alana traversed the cracked and desolate cityscape to where Steiner and Klaxon had taken up residence...well seemingly desolate cityscape. It appeared he compound had gotten a lot bigger -so much so that it wasn't much of a compound anymore. It was a citadel. The walls were expertly constructed from sheet metal, the sheer uniformity of them on such a large scale making it clear that unicorn magic was employed. They were taller than surrounding buildings and spanned entire streets.
"So... you think Steiner did all of this himself?" Falcon Wing joked to which Alana answered: "Knowing him... it's a strong possibility, really."
They walked up to what had become of the compound gate: an imposing bulwark of an entrance that was made from large transportation wagons fused together. Standing lookout at the top of the gate behind a row of thick metal crenelations was a dark green earth pony with a blue mane and a particularly familiar sniper battle saddle: Alana's. The pony was one of the twelve that fought the Enclave fragmented forces in Hope. Upon seeing the two ponies approaching, the stallion gestured for the gate to be opened. With a metallic groan and rattling chains, the mass of wagons was hoisted up to allow passage.
Inside its walls were crowds of caravan ponies, their clothing vastly different in between groups. There were ponies that wore nothing but hats, ponies in light attire that implied they were from more arid regions in Equestria and ponies who had thick overcoats which they had hanging off the sides of their pack Brahmin. Those ponies especially did not seem like local folk. They looked as if they belonged in the arctic; their fur was long and fluffy!
They all mingled about in what was presumably a town square of sorts. There were many other ponies who were not affiliated with the caravans wandering the streets, be them traveler or resident of the Hope citadel.
Alana took in the sights with wide green eyes. "Uh... wow. This... is a lot different than I remember..." she said, somewhat overwhelmed with how complete the change was. Not only was the settlement larger, but just like Ponyville the buildings had been rebuilt and restored.
"Steiner and Klaxon. It's what they do..." Falcon Wing replied. He was also impressed with the change. "Speaking of which, we should ask around for where they are holding up nowadays. I have a feeling we'll be doing a lot of searching if we don't..."
"Hey, Sea Breeze!" she shouted up to the sentry. "Can you point us in the direction of Steiner and Klaxon? We'd like to stop by for a visit!"
"They're back at their old place!" was all Sea Breeze had to say, the stallion breaking his vigil for only so long before he was back scouring the area beyond the wall. It was also all he had to say, for Alana thanked him then started heading into the settlement, flicking her tail in a gesture for Falcon Wing to follow.