//------------------------------//
// Chapter One: Awakening 
// Story: Mare-Do-Well: Everfree 
// by PaddedCell 
//------------------------------//



Mare-Do-Well blearily opened her eyes. The roof above her was grimy, and a dull beeping constantly throbbed in the background. She closed her eyes again.
"Oh, Celestia.. She's awake.." A voice broke the silence after some unknown length of time. The voice was full of shock. "It's been so long, but she's awake.."
"What did I tell you, man? I'm gonna go get the nurse, wait with her." Another voice cut in, harshly. A door opened and closed in the room.

After another unknown period of time, she was shaken awake. Opening her eyes, she was met with the sight of a grim-looking Nurse Redheart in a battered uniform. Her icy-blue eyes stared into Mare-Do-Well's own. A bright smile flared up on her lips.
"So.. The hero's finally awake, eh? You've been unconscious for a long time." She said.
"How long?" Mare-Do-Well asked, trying to maintain her monotone voice despite her drowsiness. The nurse sighed.
"You were in a coma, I think. Either that, or you were hibernating." She gave a little chuckle at her own joke. "You've been dead to the world for five years, dear.. We were all waiting for this day. Mayor Mare will be so overjoyed.." Mare-Do-Well cut her off.
"Why  is this place so.. Shabby?" Her voice grunted out as she sat up. The room around her seemed to be a makeshift clinic of some kind, from the looks of the equipment and beds.
"Oh, my.. You were in a coma all this time, you have no idea.." Nurse Redheart whispered.
"So tell me." Mare-Do-Well ordered, climbing out of bed and stretching her legs. They felt a little stiff, testament to the years of disuse. Her costume was looking worse for wear, with tears in the cape, bodysuit and hat.
"Careful, dear.. You survived a building collapse and a five-year coma, you're lucky to be standing." The nurse spoke.
"I'll be fine, I'm much better now.. What happened to Sweetie Belle? What happened when I was out?" Redheart simply opened the door to the outside slowly, bracing against the cold outside.
"As to your first question? She escaped the wreck and got help for you. She was the reason you woke up today. And the second? See for yourself." She murmured, a little miserably. Comforted by the news of Sweetie's survival, but worried by Nurse Redheart's blunt response, Mare-Do-Well stepped out into the moonlit street.

The place outside was definitely Canterlot. But not a Canterot the likes of which anyone had known before Mare-Do-Well's coma. The once-quaint little alleys and streets had become littered with trash and all manner of junk. The buildings towered overhead, some obviously having been added to in the past few years. There now appeared to be a monorail or metro system of some kind overhead, with iron structures spanning the gaps between the buildings overhead and snaking around the city. There was a light flurry of snow which softly drifted down to the floor to accompany the biting cold wind all around, and any citizens which could be seen were heavily covered in clothing, or standing by metallic barrels which blazed with makeshift fire. As she turned around to examine the streets, she was struck with a surprising sight.

There, on the wall of a boarded-up cafe, was a poster depicting her. Mare-Do-Well. 

The image of the iconic hero had been re-done in bright reds and gold trim, retaining the glowing blue eyes, but it was unmistakably the same costume design. All apart from the brooch holding the cape around the neck. Instead of the well-known, circularly-shaped M, the letter had been tipped on its side to become a stylised E. The title of the poster read, 'EVERFREE', with the subtitle at the bottom of the poster, 'For the people, Celestia's no longer'. Mare-Do-Well stepped back, returning to the door of the clinic.
"What is going on here? The poster, it-" She started. Nurse Redheart cut her off grimly.
"Street Mares. They use your good name to put on the persona of a hero, but they're really just the state police.. And a corrupt police at that." She glared at the poster.
"And who's in charge of Canterlot now? The inevitable question came.
"I suppose that would be the Board of Directors. New government, led by influential figures. We never see their faces though. We only hear their announcements over radio, read them in newspapers and see them on posters and the like." Mare-Do-Well took in the information as Nurse Redheart stepped out into the street, shivering.
"I'm sorry that I couldn't tell you more." The hero nodded, and turned back to leave. She turned to see Nurse Redheart a final time.
"And.. Where is Sweetie Belle now?" She asked, a hint of anxiousness in her monotone voice.
"She works at the Silverhoof Club. Somewhere near the middle of town, I think. Head down the road, and you'll hit the middle of the city."
"Thank you for all this.. I'll fix it, just stay here, where you're safe." She spoke, before galloping off down the snowy, dim road.

As Mare-Do-Well sped along, she booted up the scanner within her suit. The equipment she posessed was now only running at around half its usual efficiency - most likely due to a combination of damage from the building collapse, and the effect of the years of disuse during her coma. Ducking into an alleyway and crawling behind a set of dumpsters, she pulled the flying device from her back, slipping it off and stashing it behind the bags of trash. Luckily, her flying aid had been the only thing to be damaged beyond use, and it would appear that her wings had grown a little during her time out of conciousness. She could now fly more efficiently, though her wings were still naturally weak. The hero stayed grounded as she left the alley, carrying on toward the city centre.

As she passed under a large stone archway and entered the central courtyard, she heard a sudden sound. The popping of distant gunfire. Pressing herself into the shadows of a boarded-up doorway, she looked on at the scene which unfolded. A young mare hobbled into view, her right hind leg bleeding profusely. A messy bullet collision had punched a hole in it. She whimpered as she fell to the floor, curling into a foetal ball as the sound of loud engines roared from down a backstreet. Two of the Street Mares sped around the corner on motorbikes of some kind, headlights blazing. Their blood-red capes flapped noisily as the bikes slowed to a halt, the wounded mare illuminated in the electric lighting. They dismounted, their heavy metal boots thudding on the stone paving slabs as they stepped closer. One spoke out in a static-muffled voice,
"That's one count of resisting arrest, citizen. Add that to her record, 249." The Street Mare to the speaker's side nodded, tapping a report into a hoof-mounted device. "Overall charges.. Vagrancy, theft, conspiracy to commit theft, and resisting arrest from an official law officer. How do you plead?" The shaking mare stared up at the masked law officer, her face stained with tears and flecked with blood.
"N-Not guilty.. But.. You shot me.. I stole that food for my children, you can't ju-" She was cut off as the Street Mare lowered a metal boot to her head, squeezing it down a little. Mare-Do-Well flinched, having to stop herself from rushing to the mare's aid. She was in no fit state to help. And besides, these Street Mares were the police. They couldn't be that bad.. Could they?
"Defendant pleads not guilty. Found guilty of all charges by the authority of a Street Mare. Ten years for your crimes, citizen. Tie her up, 249." After a few minutes, the mare was bound with steel cable and tied own to the back of one of the motorbikes. The engines rumbled into life again, and the law officers rode off down a side-street. Mare-Do-Well emerged from the shadows, letting out a deep breath. She felt awful. That mare would now spend ten years of her life locked away for feeding her family.. And what would happen to the children without their mother? She could not imagine, and chose not to think sbout it as she trudged slowly up to the neon-lit structure of the Silverhoof Club, a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach and a heaviness weighted on her heart.