Fallout Equestria: Wanderers

by Mach Speed

Chapter 5

The night was still and calm, and no wind blew as I lay awake upon the cool ground. It had been some time since Bolts and I left Stable 50, and a longer period since we stopped to make camp. (If you could really call it camp.) We had no wood to burn for a fire and we had eaten what food we found in the Stable. (For two hundred years old, Insta-Mash aged well.) Yet I couldn’t sleep, due to my brain being focused on what I heard back in the Stable. The young mare, the vice-president of Stable-Tec… How many of those recordings did she have to make? How many of those Stables have different jobs? And why would they send the residents out if they had no clue what the conditions were? I had lit a cigarette a short while ago to calm myself and clear my mind, but to no avail. With each puff I took, my mind continued to stay foggy. Now it was just a dim light in the darkness of the wasteland. The questions continued to circle in my head as I looked through the gaps in the clouds to Luna’s dark and jewelled night. The stars shone like diamonds upon a smooth black fabric. The beautiful sight of the stars was quickly ripped from vision as the thick clouds moved over them again prompting a disappointed sigh to escape my mouth.

“Is everything ok Clear?” I heard Bolts shift in the darkness, his barding rubbing against the gritty dirt. The question took me a little by surprise as I thought my companion had drifted off into the land of dreams by now.

“Yeah I just can’t sleep. Got a little on my mind. I guess the Stable made me a little bit uneasy.”

“Was it that recording from Stable-Tec that we found?” (Great, he hacks terminals AND reads minds.)

“Yeah, I just can’t get it out of my mind. That mare seemed so distraught.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it.” Bolts said with a yawn as he rolled over and faced away from me. “As you said, it’s in the past. Let it sleep.” Bolts gave another loud yawn. “ahhh~ I think I might take that advice as well. Good night, Clear.” Bolts quickly fell asleep after finishing his sentence. Flicking my used cigarette bud out into the dark, I rolled over and followed his lead.

“Yeah, goodnight.”

I wanted a full night of sleep, but I only got a light nap as the sun started to rise shortly after I dozed off. Tired and still plagued with questions that had to go unanswered, I rose from my slumber and got ready for the rest of the journey. It took a few nudges and a kick but eventually Bolts had woken as well. Not having to pack up anything, we set off for the next town. A few hours passed and the day was already starting to heat up when I realised I didn’t know where we were going.

“Hey I never asked what town are we headed for anyway? You said it was close to the border.” Bolts stopped for a moment and lifted his hoof to stare at his pipbuck. Pulling up the map, he scanned it for a name.

“Uhh… oh! Here we go, the town’s name is Merry Burrow.” I stopped in my tracks and put my hoof to my chin in contemplation.

“Merry Burrow, Merry Burrow… why do I know that name?”

“Don’t you know all of the towns in Hoofstralia?”

“No, nowhere near all of them, but I remember hearing Merry Burrow mentioned a few years ago. I just can’t remember why. I remember they have a gem mine that survived after all these years but apart from that, nothing. They aren’t one of our trade partners so I’ve never been up there.” We began walking again.

“So, where have you been to?”

“I only travelled with the caravans around Rust Valley, I went to Dusty Docks a few times, and once to Bison Bullpen, but that was it. I’ve never seen the coasts. I always had to stay home or at least close to it so I could…” my voice trailed off as I remembered my reasoning for not going far from home.

“So you could what?”

“So I could be close to look after my sister.”

“Oh… I’m sorry.” I waved a hoof at Bolts before moving off, him promptly following behind.

“I should start taking my own advice.”

“What do you mean?” Bolts asked as he caught up.

“I need to let those who have died, rest. Including my sister.” I set my sights on the horizon as the shapes of the shacks of Merry Burrow began to come into view. “I need to move on.”

The town of Merry Burrow was quaint. A small town near the Northern border of Hoofstralia. From what I recalled, the town used to be a large supplier of gems, having one of the largest mines in Hoofstralia. The gems were usually carted around Hoofstralia via the road, but to transport them further North into the more central part of Equestria the old residents used a train to transport them. Now the tracks were unused and even destroyed. As we moved into the town, I couldn’t help but feel the eyes of the townsponies following us. (Hell, I could see them watch us.) All eyes seemed to be on us as we moved through the town. Mares seemed to hide their foals behind them and everypony seemed to move, if not run, out of our way.

“What’s with the ponies in this town?” Bolts whispered to me “It’s as if they’re afraid of us.”

“That’s the thing, I think they are.” The fleeing of ponies didn’t stop as we made our way through the dusty town. Heads and eyes seemed to poke out of doors and windows to view us but quickly retreated as we passed, only to come out again once we had moved on. We soon came upon the town pub. The Crystal Clear Pub was a two story building made of weathered wood that still stood the test of time. The melancholy music of a song drifted out through the open doorway, along with the chatter of a small group within. That all changed the moment I stepped inside. While the music continued to play from the radio above the bar, the chatter died down until it was completely gone. All eyes turned to us but heads didn’t follow. All the patrons of the pub were trying to completely avoid eye contact.

“They’re all staring at us.” Bolts said, his whisper just loud enough to be heard over the music. “I think this was a bad idea.”

“Just follow me and let me do the talking.” I whispered back before walking more inside. As we moved past more patrons I became more worried. More and more ponies stood between us and the only notable exit in the building. Swallowing my fear I continued moving up to the bar. As I approached, the few ponies on the bar stools quickly jumped away and moved to a table in the corner of the room. Moving up to the now vacant bar I began to slowly levitate my rifle off my back. Out the corner of my eye I saw a unicorn mare slowly bring her magic to a glow and focus on the revolver holstered to her waist. She didn’t fire or even draw but simply kept her magic on it. I continued to take my rifle off and placed it beside me. Dropping my saddlebags as well I hopped up on a now empty stool. Bolts was right behind me and jumped onto a neighbouring stool.

“Wh-what will i-it be?” The bartender before us was a frail, skinny stallion who looked like he hadn’t slept in weeks. He spoke with a stutter as if something was wrong. (What was wrong with this town?) Reaching into the pocket of my duster I took out a hoofful of bottle caps and placed them on the bar.

“I’ll have a beer thanks.”

“I’ll have one too.” Bolts said, piping up.

“Ha! No way kid, you’re having a cider.” Bolts turned to give me a glare and was about to say something when the bartender interrupted.

“I-it’s f-free. We d-don’t want any tr-trouble.” Bolts and I both raised an eyebrow at the stallion and gave him a quizzical look.

“Why would we cause you trouble?” I asked the stallion. “We’re just travellers passing through. We only stopped in for a drink and maybe for a place to stay for the night.”

“W-wait, you mean y-you’re not one of Mr. White’s men?”

“Mr. White? Who’s that?” The stallion gave me a long blank stare before bowing his head and sighing hard. Raising his head again he called out to the other patrons of the pub.

“It’s ok everypony, they’re NOT with Mr White.” There came a collective sigh from around the pub as the townsponies relished in what was to them, good news. The groups began to relax again and soon the pub was filled with the chatter that flowed out into the street before we entered. Conversations continued that had been quickly halted and soon we were just two ponies that blended with the others, no longer the centre of attention. The bartender brought out two bottles, one of beer and one of an old apple cider and sat them before us. “Sorry about that. Everyone’s just a little on edge right now.” The stallion held out his hoof for me to shake “The name’s Barley.”

“Clear Shot and this is my companion, Bolts” I said shaking his hoof. “Now what’s going on here? Who’s Mr White?” I didn’t even touch my drink before asking my questions to which the skinny bartender sighed and pulled out a drink for himself. He sat in front of us, behind the bar on a stool of his own.

“Mr White is a… businessman of sorts. He dabbles in trade that most ponies, including all of us, consider horrid.”

“What’s his trade?” I asked as my companion began to drink his cider. I still neglected my own beverage.

“Mr White is in charge of a group of slavers around here.” I couldn’t believe my ears, another job fell right into my lap. I looked to Bolts who had stopped drinking, he seemed to be thinking the same thing.

“Surely you haven’t done business willingly with him?” I asked, only to have Barley slam a hoof onto the bar and give me a cross stare.

“Of course I haven’t fucking done business willingly with that bastard.” The stallion took a long hard swig of his beer then seemed to calm down somewhat. “Mr White considers himself a fair businessman. He lets us all live, and in exchange for his generosity, comes around every couple of weeks to choose a few more ponies to be taken as slaves.”

“Why haven’t you fought back?”

“Don’t you think we’ve fucking tried!? We’d kill the lot of them if we had the chance. But even with all of us who know how to shoot, they still outnumber us at least three to one. It’s all we can do just to stay alive.” I began to look around the room, not to the ponies who had stopped talking again, this time at the actual pub. I began to take notice of its condition. Many window panes were broken. Wood had chipped away in many places and the walls had a few holes in them. The ponies had fought back, but it seemed that they were unsuccessful. “That bastard… That fucking bastard has taken many friends from us… and even family members.” Barley seemed to tear up. “On the last trip, they took my wife and foals with them. I wanted to fight back, to intervene, but if I did, he would have had her shot.” Barley was just beginning to sob but took in a deep breath and forced his tears away. “I should have done it, at least it would have been quick and painless. Unlike what she’ll have to go through as a slave.” I gritted my teeth but tried not to show my anger.

“I understand what it’s like to lose someone to slavers. We’ll work something out.”

“You two? What could you do? You’re just two young lads. You’ll get yourselves shot by going in there.”

“It’s better than sitting around here and waiting for them to come back.” Bolts piped in. We sat there in silence for a short time, the soft tune of the music was the only noise in the room. There were no lyrics that came, but instead it was just a simple, melancholy tune played from a string instrument.

“Fine.” barley finally broke the silence. “If you two have a death wish, then go ahead with your plan. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. Stay the night though, I wouldn’t be able to sleep if I knew you two went in there tired.” I nodded my thanks and began to drink my beer. It was a little warm but enjoyable none the less. As the music died down and went away, the chatter of the pub kicked back in. groups began to play cards and a couple of barmaids took drinks around to the patrons. With the music gone a voice came over the radio.

“This is DJ Pon3 and that was Octavia’s Ode to a Quieter Time. A smooth melody from simpler time.” Nudging Bolts in the shoulder I nodded to the radio.

“This is the DJ Pon3 I was talking about.” I said before taking another drink and listening in.

“Now tell me, my little ponies, are you hungry for some centuries old Insta-Mash? Or are you hungry for some news? Still no sign of that silver-eyed stallion who near single hoofedly took down the Powder Gang members that were laying low in the prison called The Box.”

“What!?” I called as I spat my beer out.

“Not only did he take down a prison full of Powder Gangers, but he also rescued the citizens of Dusty Docks at the same time.” DJ Pon3, the voice of the wasteland, was talking about me.

“Can you believe this!?” I said to Bolts, my voice full of shock and quite possibly a little too loud.

“Yeah, he still hasn’t mentioned me. I helped at The Box too.”

“The last I heard, this stallion was headed North with a new buddy of his who helped out the town as well. Now this is where I’d normally say ‘Well done kid. Give it to those bandits.’ or something like that. But the truth is, he really shouldn’t try this. He’ll end up hurt, or worse, dead. Now, Silver Eyes, if you can hear me… Good job on saving the town of Dusty Docks, but don’t try to be a hero. The Equestrian Wasteland already has a number of ponies out there fighting the good fight. With the Stable Dweller and Security out there, we have more heroes than we need. But if you really feel so strongly about it, stick close to home. If you’re going to help anypony, do it from Hoofstralia. We have enough heroes up here already. Oh, and one last thing. Well done, kid. Thanks for listening, my little ponies. Tune in tomorrow when I’ll have a fresh report for you on what’s going on around our humble little wasteland. I’m DJ Pon3, your voice in the darkness. And now, some music.”

I stared on in disbelief as DJ Pon3’s voice disappeared from the radio and replaced by the sound of smooth jazz. Somehow DJ Pon3 knew what I had done and had told the wasteland about me. I sat there with a blank stare on my face and my mouth hanging open until Bolts nudged me in the ribs.

“You ok there, Clear?”

“Yeah, yeah. I just never expected to be talked about on the radio like that.”

“So that really was you?” I looked forward to see a stunned Barley staring back at me. “The one DJ was talking about, you really saved Dusty Docks?”

“I… I did. But I did have help.” I didn’t know how to feel right now. The only reason I had been recognised in the past was because I was the son of the sheriff of Sunny Springs. Now I was the pony who saved a town from bandits.

“But you still saved them, right?”

“Yes, I did.” I shook my head to get rid of the fuzziness that was plaguing it. Taking a deep breath I put on a serious look. “And I’m going to do the same here.” It was Barley’s turn to shake his head.

“It’s a nice thought kid but I still think you’re out of your league. Still, it’s good to hear there’s actually ponies like you out there and that the DJ wasn’t just spinning a tale.” I opened my mouth to speak again but as I did I felt the earth begin to rumble. As seconds passed it got worse. “Oh no…” the colour seemed to drain from Barley’s face and it reverted to how it looked when we walked in.

“What is it?” I asked, grabbing my beer bottle before it could topple over from the vibrations.

“I thought today was the day… You two are about to meet Mr White…”

The rumbling came from a cart that was being pulled by some large stallions. I couldn’t exactly see them, as I didn’t move from my stool, but looking out one of the broken windows I saw a cloud of dust that had followed the thundering carriage. The pub had fallen silent again, and out of the corner of my eyes I could see that some of the patrons were shaking as well, fearing that they would be the ones chosen this time. The barmaids hid themselves in the backroom entirely. The sound of clinking metal approached from outside and a large, white, well-built stallion walked into the pub. His mane had been cut short and spikey and he was at least twice as big as me, both is size and build. As he walked inside I noticed the clinking metal sound was coming from him. The large stallion was wearing spiked hoof shoes, a small layer of both rust and dust coated them. While he wasn’t looking our way I leant in close to Barley and whispered.

“I’m guessing that’s Mr White.”

“Him? No, he’s just a lackey.” Barley whispered back. If the large stallion in the room was the lackey, I feared what Mr White would look like. I leant back and kept and an eye on the doorway. Soon two more ponies stepped in: a mare almost as large as the stallion who had a thick whip hanging from her side, and a normal-sized stallion wearing a white suit and hat that were pinstriped. The first two were wearing combat armour and looked like they hadn’t bathed in weeks, maybe months. The third pony was definitely the odd one out.

“Ah, m-Mister White, s-so good to s-see you again. H-how was the trip over?” Barley stuttered, addressing the suited stallion.

“Ah, now that’s what I likes to hear, a nice welcome before we’s do business.” The stallion spoke with a strange accent. (probably from somewhere up North.) “Now, we both knows why I’m here.” He removed his hat and handed it to one of his guards, his jet black mane had been slicked back and looked really greasy. “Oh, you don’t mind if my associates make their selves at home do you?”

“w-What? Of course not, Mr. White.”

“Ah, good. Knuckles, Bullwhip, take five.” The stallion seemed to get a large grin on his face as Mr. White walked towards the bar.

“Where’s my play things at? Come on out, don’t be shy.” The large stallion, Knuckles, bellowed. From the back, the two barmaids appeared. The smaller of the two seemed like she was about to cry. They slowly trotted out towards the guard and sniffled. “Heh heh, I love it when they’re like this. Come on, you know what to do.”

“Remember, Knuckles, the boss only said five minutes. Oh wait… that’s enough time for you!” the mare Bullwhip chortled out, her voice was deep and her laugh deeper. The barmaids were fully in tears now, knowing what fate awaited them.

“Ehh, shut up. you fucking bitch. Come on.” As he took another step towards the barmaids, I levitated mine and Bolt’s bottles up and threw them at the guards. Both bottles hit their mark, smashing over their heads and soaking them in whatever liquid was left within. The bottles breaking didn’t seem to harm the two large guards as they turned towards me. Their faces were full of anger and murder was in their eyes. However, it wasn’t just the guards who turned my way. In fact, it seemed as though everyone stopped to stare at me.

“What are you doing?” Bolts whispered in a loud but soft voice.

“Get ready, but don’t shoot Mr. White.” was all I whispered back.

“Mr White, p-please forgive the colt.” Barley piped up, not wanting anyone hurt. “He d-didn’t know what he was doing, honest.”

“No, no. I understand. This young stallion was just trying to have a bit of fun with my two associates. Knuckles, Bullwhip, show this joker how to play.”

“Oh, I’ll show him how to play, all right.” Knuckles answered, still advancing. “I’ll show him how to play dead!” The large stallion jumped and ran towards me. Acting fast, I didn’t levitate my rifle up but simply moved it to angle away from the bar. Knuckles leapt forward and raised a hoof to strike at me, thinking I was trying to bring my rifle up. instead I judged the angle and fire from where my sat. My shot rang true as I fired up through his stomach. Even with his armour on, he was not able to guard against a point blank shot like that. As the shot rang out through the pub, all the patrons and even Barley ducked for cover. The barmaids who had been weeping on the floor gave a couple of large screams and ran out the back again, seeking a place to hide. The large stallion howled in pain but didn’t drop to the floor, instead he raised his hoof again at me. It was Bolts’ turn to shoot this time, and quickly drawing his laser pistol he fired at the guard. I saw the beam fly out lightning fast but only skimmed across Knuckle’s cheek and blow his ear off, inciting another howl from the crippled guard. This finally caused Knuckles to move away and assess the damage of his wounds. I was expecting a second to breathe, but I had forgotten someone. The large mare had gritted the whip from her side in her teeth and flung her head around at an alarming rate. Out the corner of my eye I could see the whip coming, and I tried to brace but it was too late. The whip came around and cracked hard on my throat. The pain was immense but all I could do was clutch at my throat with my hooves as I fell off my stool, coughing hard. Eyes watering I looked back up to see Bolts take another pot shot, this time at Bullwhip. She was prepared, though, unfortunately. Dodging out of the way, she flung her head around again with more force. This time the end of the whip wrapped around the laser pistol in Bolt’s magical grasp and she yanked it away, pulling it towards her. With Bolts defenceless, she turned her whip on him again, cracking him twice in the back. His barding absorbed some of blow, but not much. Bolts cried out in pain as he too fell to the floor. Our suffering wasn’t over though, not by a long shot. As Bolts and I lay on the floor, Bullwhip raised her head again and began lashing at us again. My duster and armour absorbed most of the force from the whip thanks to their thickness but Bolts still felt the full blow and my neck was still in pain. Each sparing moment I got I tried to aim my rifle but I just couldn’t work through the pain. After what seemed like forty lashes, our suffering was halted by a loud clopping sound. Slowly, I raised my head and saw Mr. White stomping one of his hooves to signal Bullwhip to stop her lashing.

“That there was a brave thing you twos did. Standing up to my guards and now look at them! One has a hole through him and he’s missing an ear. Yes, it was a brave thing, however, it was also fucking stupid!” Mr White gave me a swift kick to the stomach causing me to cough louder. “Now, I’ve never seen you twos around here before so I’m going to explain to yous how things work, slowly. And you’re going to listen! Now, I’m in charge of a large group of big, muscle-bound slavers who will do what I tell to do because I told them to do it. Now, I considers myself a decent pony in that, I didn’t tell them to gun down and capture every pony in this town. No, I gave the residents of this… quaint town the choice to do a little trade. Every so often, I come by and take a few of the residents away to a new home, and in return, I don’t gun them the fuck down!” Mr. White drew a pistol from his suit and held it in his teeth. Pulling the trigger with his tongue he fired off a round which embedded itself in the floor just in front of my face. “Sorry. kid.” He mumbled, talking around his gun. “If I don’t show them who’s boss, who will they listen to? After all, it’s just business.” A gunshot rang out through the pub but it wasn’t from Mr. White. As the sound of the gunshot died away, the scream of agony filled the air. Bullwhip had dropped to the ground and was rolling around in pain, one of her exposed back legs had been shot. Who was the shooter? The mare from before with her revolver.

“I wouldn’t do that if I was you. Now drop the gun before I blow your brains all over the fucking room.” The mare was stern as she spoke. She wasn’t kidding. Without missing a beat, Mr. White dropped his gun and back away from me. “Now, I suggest you leave before I really do blow your brains out.” Mr White glared at the mare then to around the room.

“Fine, you want to do this the hard way? We’ll do it the hard way. I’ve tried to be generous with all of yous, but you just went and took it for granted. Now you’re all dead! You hear me!? D-E-A-D dead! That means you too, kid.” He said, looking at me. “You better sleep well tonight, because tomorrow my boys will come a knocking and they knock hard.” After giving a final glace to the room, Mr. White turned around and trotted outside. “Knuckles, Bullwhip, pick your fucking sorry selves up and let’s go.” The two wounded guards groaned as they stood up (or at least tried to stand up) and limped out of the pub. Both of the guards were heavily bleeding as they hitched themselves to a cart outside and took Mr White out of town, leaving the entire pub in a shocked and dead silence.

A few minutes had passed since Mr. White and his guards left. I had rolled onto my back and I was just staring up at the ceiling. My neck still had a stinging pain in it emanating from a very noticeable red line. As I laid there on the hard wooden floor I felt something shift beside me. It was Bolts, who was moving to take some pain off his back.

“You ok, Bolts?” My voices was a little raspy from my wound.

“Yeah. My back feels like it’s had acid poured onto it, but apart from that I’m fine.” I chuckled lightly at my companion’s sense of humour.

“Well, at least you can still talk properly.” My voice was getting better but there was still a little raspy. As I laid there staring up to the ceiling, another face came into my vision, it was Barley.

“I hope you’re happy, kid. You’ve just killed us all.” I narrowed my eye lids as I looked up to him.

“So you just expected me to sit by while that slaver raped your barmaids and Mr. White did his ‘business’?”

“I expected you to mind your own business, and if you did start trouble then you would shoot him as well. Now, he’s coming back with that gang of his tomorrow. We don’t have enough ponies or even guns to take that many on!”

“Calm down.” I responded as I sat back up. “If I were to kill him, the rest of the slavers would have just come in with their guns blazing when their boss didn’t return. Now that he’s gone back, he’ll probably only send a small group. They’ll be armed but there will be fewer than you think.”

“And what makes you say that?” the question came from the mare with the revolver as she slowly walked up.

“He’d need to keep guards there to look after the slaves and make sure they didn’t escape. He’d also want them there for his own protection.”

“And what happens when the slavers come here tomorrow?” Barley retorted.

“We make a stand, surprise them. But we should leave one alive.”

“I say we shoot him too.” Bolts replied as he slowly got up.

“No, we tell him to send a message to Mr. White. That we will be coming for him the next day, but instead, we will attack tomorrow night.”

“And why should we trust you?” a stallion at the other end of the room called out as he got up from the ground. In fact, all the patrons began to rise. “You think you can just waltz in here and tell us what to do? For fuck’s sake, you almost got us killed!” The other ponies seemed to nod with him and voice their agreements.

“I’m telling you this because I bet that in the last week I’ve killed more slavers than you have in your entire life.” My voice was finally back to normal but the stinging pain of the whip still lingered. Taking a deep breath, I started again in a calmer tone. “I understand what you’re going through. My own town was near a slaver camp but we protected ourselves enough that the slavers couldn’t touch us. But some… mistakes were made and I lost somepony very close to me. I’m not about to let that happen again. We can do this. We’ll make two surprise attacks, one when the slavers come tomorrow and another that night.” Some of the ponies still look a little unconvinced while some begin to show their support.

“There’s another reason we can trust him…” a timid voice called from around the bar. Both the barmaids had reappeared. “He… he did just save us a-and he saved that other town as well. You all know that the DJ doesn’t lie.” The shy and timid voices of the barmaids seemed to soften the hearts of the townsponies until the stallion who called out gave a low sigh.

“Okay, kid. I trust you. What do you want us to do?” Grinning, I stood up. I must have looked ridiculous, a smile on my face from ear to ear.

“The big thing is to make sure all those who can’t fight stay low and away from the centre of town. Everyone who has weapons will hide in the buildings, and when I give the signal, you open fire.”

“And where will you be?” Barley asked, to which I gave a smirk.

“I noticed this pub has a balcony.” I began levitating my rifle up. “I’ll be up there. We just need one pony to distract them when they get here. To lull them into a false sense of security.” The entire pub was silent. No one wanted to take the job.”

“I’ll do it.” the response came from behind me. Bolts had finally stood back up and had that sense of determination in his voice, much like when we were at The Box.

“Are you sure, Bolts? You’ll be out in the open, no place to run.”

“Yes, I’m sure. Besides, I have you watching over me…” Bolts gave a smirk as he retrieved his laser pistol. “Mr. Silver-Eyed Stallion.” I smirked back, but on the inside I was worrying about this title. (I just wanted to help clean up the wasteland, I never wanted to be known for it…) after coming back to reality I gave a nod to the room.

“Looks like we all know what’s happening. Now…” I turned to barley with a small smile “I think we could all use a drink.”

As the commotion of Mr White’s visit calmed down, the pub fell back into a dead silence. But as more drinks were ordered and as the music continued to play, the pub goers started to lighten up and return to their activities of playing cards and just talking. When the sun started to set, many of the patrons returned to their homes, leaving the pub quiet again. It was around this time I asked Barley for a room and Bolts and I headed upstairs to rest.

The room was small and contained two single beds. Dropping our gear in the corner, I hung my duster on a hook on the wall and took my armour off. I looked at my reflection in a dusty and slightly cracked mirror and I began examining my wounds. The scratches I received at The Box were healing nicely, even the cut along my cheek. I peeled away the patches on my face and examined the scratches from the radroos. They were healing more slowly, but at least they weren’t infected. Through my mane I could even still see the wound from when I was shot when this all began. Now I had a new wound adorning my body, the long mark along my neck was still red and almost glowing. With a sigh I sat on the dusty (and quite frankly hard) mattress, crossing my forelegs and bowing my head, I began to contemplate the events of tomorrow.

“Everything ok, Clear?” Bolts asked as he too sat on his bed and began to tinker with his laser pistol.

“Yeah, I’m just a little nervous about tomorrow.” Seeing Bolts tend to his weapon made me think about my own. I levitated my rifle and magazines onto the bed and was shocked to find I was down to three mags, including the one already in my rifle. “This is bad, I’m starting to run low on ammunition. How are you doing?”

“There was a lot of radroos in the Stable…” Bolts ejected a small cartridge from the laser pistol and placed it on the bed. The cartridge was a small square box with a few cylinders coming off two of the ends. In the very middle of the cartridge was a ruby. Where the ruby might have glowed magnificently in the past, it was now faded, dull and even cracked. Placing the spent cartridge in one of his pouches, he took out another. This one had what looked like an amethyst in the centre which shone brightly. He placed the new cartridge into his pistol and looked towards me. “…I only have two cells left.”

“Shit…” I looked over our two weapons and gave a deep sigh “We’re going to need to find some more ammo at this rate. We don’t know exactly how many slavers are in that camp of theirs. Hell, my rifle could use a tune up as well.” In the couple of years I’d had my sniper rifle it had been hard to find spare parts for it. Every so often caravans would come along with some other rifles. I’d always take them apart and refit pieces into my own but it was never all that great. (Hell, the rifle wasn’t in great shape when my dad bought it for me.) As such, its condition was on a slow decline and with it being my only weapon, that wasn’t such a good thing. With a heavy sigh, I leaned my rifle against the wall and placed the spare magazines inside my saddlebags.

“No use worrying about it now. We’ll just have to hope we come by some spare ammo and parts in the future.” I said, lying back down. While the mattress was hard, it was still better than the ground. Bolts followed my lead, placing his barding on another coatrack and placing himself on his bed as well. Flaring my magic, I turned off the light in the room and began to rest. As I let the weight of my body sink into the mattress, I began to realise just how tired I really was. Days of walking through the wasteland and only stopping for a few hours at night to rest had really sapped my energy. The real mattress was a nice change, one I knew I shouldn’t get attached to. Just as I started to doze off, I heard Bolts’ voice ring out through the darkness.

“Hey, Clear?”

“Yeah? What?”

“I had a question I wanted to ask you.”

“Can it wait till morning? I just got comfortable.”

“It’s just a quick question.”

“Fine.” I said with a sigh, as I stared up to the dark ceiling. “What is it?”

“Do you believe in the Goddesses, I mean, Celestia and Luna?” I had to think about what he was asking for a moment or two before answering.

“When they were alive, They were just princesses with amazing power, to raise the sun and the moon respectively. Even when They were alive some believed that They were, in fact, Goddesses sent to Equestria. Then, when They died, many questioned how legitimate the claims were that They may not be Goddesses at all. Nowadays, I think many have forgotten Them. Hay, the only reason I know of Them is that most of the books that were brought into my family’s Stable have survived over the years. I can’t really speak for many ponies of Equestria but those who do know of Them, I think they either don’t believe or don’t care and those wanting to believe… I think they’re just looking for something to believe in. These are troubled times where many look towards any figurehead, or leader, or pony of power in hopes of a brighter future. Others turn to the beings of legend for help, but will help ever come?” we laid there in silence as Bolts processed what I said.

“Wow… I didn’t know you were so deep.” He chuckled slightly. “So, what do you believe?” I had to think about my answer for a moment. Sure, I had been taught about the princesses of old, but surely They couldn’t have been as all powerful as the books had made them out to be. (Could they?)

“Quite frankly, I don’t know what I believe in. I’m not sure if I should believe in the supposed Goddesses, or my own way of thinking… I’ll see where life takes me. What about you? What do you believe?”

“Well… I thought I believed in Them, but seeing the wasteland and those who live in it… I don’t know what to think anymore…”

“See where the road takes you. You’ve still got your whole life to figure it out.” I could see Bolts’ smile through the darkness before he rolled over and faced away from me.

“Good night, Clear.”

“Yeah, goodnight.” I stayed awake a little while longer and stared at the ceiling before I let the darkness of night and silence of the wasteland take me into the land of dreams. Finally, I was in the only place where I could escape the horrors of this dreadful place I called home. This place I call the wasteland.

Footnote: No new level gained.