//------------------------------//
// Chapter 11: Make Her Drink 
// Story: Fallout Equestria: Treasure Hunting 
// by Hnetu 
//------------------------------//


There is a trigger warning for this chapter, please see the notes at the bottom of the page for more details.

Chapter Eleven: Make Her Drink
“Follow the rules, and this will end much happier for you.”


Mercy.

She said killing him was mercy. 

I stared at the clouds as they passed across the sky. Sourbelle sat next to me, talking about something or other that I couldn’t focus on. I couldn’t get that sound out of my mind. Idly, my hoof trailed along the collar on my neck. Would mine take my head off, or would it let me drown in my own blood? Would I make that sound when I finally pushed Amble too far? I didn’t want to think about it, but my mind wouldn’t switch to anything else.

“Sourbelle?” I interrupted, looking at her, “has she tried to make you kill anypony?” I didn’t really want an answer, but I needed to know if I was the only one getting this kind of treatment. I wanted to know if she’d given in. I needed to know how it felt to give in. 

“Yes,” she said, after several moments of silence.

“Did you do it?” I asked, again not wanting an answer. I needed the answer.

“No,” she answered immediately.

“Why not?” I stared at her while I asked, trying to process what could push a pony that far. At some point, would I crack and do what she wanted? Would I enjoy it...?

“I can’t let her control me like that. If I give in, she’s won,” Sourbelle explained, staring off at the clouds. Amble’s specialty was control. She had walked me in circles already.

I gave the mare a hug. I wanted it for me more than anything else, and without Lost around to be close to, I needed to latch onto somepony. She hesitated, but when she finally returned it, I honestly felt better. “Thanks,” I whispered.

I now knew I wasn’t the only one, that it wasn’t more of Amble ‘special treatment’ for me. I just had to find out how to get out of another kill test without giving in to her little games. I let go of the blue-maned pony, and sat on my haunches. I could talk to Lost at lunch, and let her know what happened. I could see if she’d come up with a plan yet.

I really wished Xeno were here... Her crazy sleight-of-hoof trick to make things appear and disappear would be amazing for this. We needed to get out, before I started to go crazy. I looked to Sourbelle. She was real at least; I’d felt her with my own hooves. One less piece of crazy to worry about.

Crazy wasn’t my only problem anymore, though. It was just most of my problems now.

I was a murderer now, the type of pony I’d always tried not to be. The worst part was that I didn’t feel guilty about any of it. I felt like I’d been justified in almost all of my kills so far. The ones I hadn’t directly caused were circumstantial, and probably would have happened anyway, eventually. Ponies died. That was just how the Wasteland worked. But shouldn’t I feel guilty? I felt more guilty that I hadn’t killed Spark Light. It was an almost alien feeling, guilt over not killing. He suffered because I hesitated, and that was what really got to me.

Was this just a part of Amble’s strategy? I wasn’t even sure what to think anymore. I wanted to go back home, I wanted to search for treasure, and I wanted my biggest fear to be a roaming Manticore. I went back to idly tracing my hoof along the collar. I never thought I’d be in this situation, let alone in this situation twice! The mine had been better than this. At least there, we’d had a chance to get away. Bloodwings or bomb collars, which was worse?

Who were the other two ponies that my collar was attached to? Why did Amble care so much about me? Was there any way the Stable Sixty Steel Rangers could come rescue us? How much longer did I have before Amble got frustrated with my progress and had Lost or me killed? I had too many questions, and needed a break. Couldn’t it just be lunch time already? Wait, that was a question too.

I needed to have faith that L.A. would have a plan. She’d looked less worked-over each time I’d seen her. If Amble was telling the truth, which I doubted, it meant Lost at least got extra meals and sleep whenever I was a good little slave. I’d ask her about it today when I saw her. I needed to get out of the place, before they threw me into another one of those kill tests. Watching another pony die a slow painful death in front of me was just... something I didn’t think I could handle. 

My heart shattered, torn between two options that both ended in sadness. Was killing a better option here? Was refusal and suffering, with no guilt, better? Giving in and doing what Amble wanted was the smart choice. It would give me options. The option to get the collar removed, the option to be with my sister, and the option to avoid all the crazy torture. I didn’t want to consider it, I tried not to consider it, but the thought wouldn’t leave my mind.

If I gave in, things would get easier. 

No! Murder was not the best option! I could get away without having to kill ponies, or making her kill a pony for me because I couldn’t. I’d killed ponies before, and I’d do it again, I knew it. But I wasn’t going to let some psychopath slaver decide who I killed. Lost and I could have been mercenaries instead of treasure hunters when we were growing up, and we chose not to go down that path for a reason. We learned to survive without needing to turn to murder or raiding.

“I’m still my own pony, right?” I asked Sourbelle. I looked over at her, frowning. 

“I think so. Have you let her into your head yet?” she asked back. 

“No, I don’t think so,” I said, with a quiet, uneasy laugh. I facehoofed and looked at Sourbelle. Seemed like there were no little ponies walking about inside my head. Realizing how insane that sounded, I finished lamely. “I must be going crazy...”

“That’s how they get you,” she replied, and motioned to the pen’s door. “Here they come.”

Guards collected us, barked orders at us, and marched us around. When I listened to the guards, they took me where I needed to go without beating me, or threatening me. I just had to behave and do whatever I was told. Like a good pony...


*   *   *


I stood in line behind another stallion, a bigger pony with an orange coat covered in darker scars. I didn’t pay much attention until he turned to the slaver who worked the mess line and stared at him with one eye. Oh Goddesses, it was Cluster. I shrunk back, hoping he hadn’t seen me. I didn’t want to have to explain where Spark Light had disappeared to, remembering that the two had come in together. I watched in horror, as the stallion turned away and headed off with the tray held in a weak telekinetic haze in front of him.

He hadn’t seen me, which was a huge relief. Thank the Goddesses for his missing eye.

I grabbed my own food bowl, bit into the edge of it, and carried it off to find my sister. The first place I went was the normal spot, and found her just as I’d hoped. Excellent. That meant we’d get more time to see one another and talk. I sat across from her and dropped my bowl. 

“Hay,” she said, forcing a smile. 

I took a few bites of the gruel and forced my own smile back. “Hay,” I said. “How are they treating you lately?” I asked, hoping for a bit of good news.

“Like a slave. Sunbright is...” she trailed off, and took a few bites. After an awkward pause, she finished. “...fine. She’s taught me some new magic. She's treating me alright, for a slaver at least.” She talked fast and didn’t make eye contact, the whole time staring into the empty bowl. “You?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I answered. “Got a plan yet?”

“Oh yes... a plan,” she said, quieting down to a whisper. She looked around a few times, checking for any guards or eavesdropping ponies who might sell us out. “I can get us both into the same pen. Spark Light will tell you tomorrow. If I can pull it off soon enough...”

I felt the blood drain from my face. I didn’t want to tell her what had happened to Spark Light, not when it was so fresh. I’d been the cause of his death, and she’d been counting on him as a part of her plan. Maybe he’d have gotten freedom, even...

“They’ve had him all morning though,” she said with a sigh. She leaned up and looked around, giving me time to wolf down the last of my food. She watched me eating, with a weary look. “Have you seen him at all?” she asked.

I started to answer, to tell her everything. Before I could get a word out, a gigantic pink stallion with yellow eyes and a light blonde mane walked up. Feeling myself shiver, I looked up at him, and nearly fell from my seat. A set of spiked shackles rested on the pony’s flanks. Vice Brand...

“You two. Up,” he ordered, and hit Lost in the back of the head with one of his massive hooves. 

I did exactly as he commanded and not a thing more. He said up. I got up. I stared straight forward and said nothing. Out of the corner of my eyes I could see other ponies moving back, away from the two of us. My legs began to ache. I could feel blood running down to my hooves. It was all in my head, I told myself, the doctor healed them. Seeing the stallion again brought back the experience.

Lost didn’t recover or get up fast enough. Vice Brand lifted her roughly in his magic and slammed her into the table. He pulled her up to eye level and glared. 

“Special punishment,” he said, and looked to me. “Follow.” Then he turned and bellowed at the crowd. “All of you follow me!” He was so loud that I felt it in my bones.

“Special punishment? Why?” Lost yelled, kicking her legs up and down. “I’ve been good! Sunbright says I'm coming along nicely! What have I done? Please... I did what I was told!” She twisted and turned in the air, struggling every step of the way. Nothing she said got through to to the massive stallion though.

I followed behind him, ears pinned back, hoping Lost wouldn’t get the same treatment I had. She didn’t deserve that. She didn’t deserve to go through what I had. I’d been hobbled long enough, and still felt the pain whenever I thought about it. I was a sturdy earth pony, I could endure. But all she had was cheater magic. What would that torture do to her?

This was all my fault. Could I tell her what happened? That might break her... My breath came in ragged gasps. I should have killed him. I could be a murderer if it meant Lost was safe. I just needed to tell Amble that. I would submit so Lost could be safe. I might... I might just enjoy it after a while.

Every other pony from the mess hall followed, too. Not a single one dared to step out of line. I heard murmurs from the group, snippets of ponies talking. They said he was vicious. They said he held power over other slavers. They said he would rape or kill anypony who didn’t listen. One pony whispered something about his daughter, but was quickly silenced. 

I refused to let my mind wander the possibilities.

Vice Brand didn’t lead us back to his shop, instead he led us to a pit on the far side of the slaver town. Opposite the pit was a stage, with a rack and a couple of ponies standing on it, and guards flanking it at a distance. He threw my sister down into the pit as hard as he could. As my sister picked herself up from the dust he stepped up onto the stage. His horn glowed and he dragged me up onto the stage by my steel hoof.

Both ponies waiting on the stage were pegasi, one older and the other still a filly. The mare looked like she’d had a beautiful brown mane and lovely yellow coat at one point. Now she was covered in dirt and had nothing but a hollow look in her eyes. The filly was just as dirty, with greasy streaks through her mane and a wicked grin. Vice Brand nuzzled the smaller pegasus as he passed. She grinned wider and hugged him. Just how had he come across pegasi to catch as slaves?

Did that matter right now?!

“Alright, little one, pay attention to what daddy does,” he said, brushing his hoof against her chin. He barely touched her, but it was enough to push her back onto her haunches. She must have been the daughter he’d been trying to spend time with- “because one day I’m going to break you like this.”

“Just like you broke mommy, right?” asked the filly, nudging the older pegasus. Her mother said nothing, just gave a quiet grunt and blinked. Her eyes seemed dead, like there wasn’t a pony inside anymore.

“Yes dear, just like mommy. Watch and learn,” he said to her, then stood tall. “This pony,” he announced, pointing at me, “has shown time and time again that she does not understand her place. That she must be shown what it means to belong here.” 

He turned and said directly to me, “You are a slave, just like my daughter, like your sister, like all of the ponies here!” He pointed his hoof out to the gathered slaves. “You are our belongings, our property, for us to do with as we please.” He set his hoof down and looked to my sister. He smiled, and my blood froze. He shouted at the crowd. “Anypony who teaches this mare a lesson gets a day of freedom, with full meals, and a night of uninterrupted sleep!”

The mob went wild and individual ponies started to advance.

“Teach this slave a lesson. Beat it into her sister so she’ll never forget!” he yelled. 

Several ponies jumped at the chance, diving toward the pit. Cluster was one of them, and with a giant smile, he beat the other slaves away. He kicked and bucked until they all stood back, allowing him to stand alone at the edge of the pit. “She’s mine,” he hollered as he jumped in.

Lost stared up, her head snapping back and forth to look between Vice Brand and Cluster. She shook, the stallion landing in front of her and towering over her. “What the fuck! Why?” she demanded, all while taking a few steps back. “Hidden, what happened?”

I watched in horror, wanting to jump down. I knew I’d be punished, but it was worth it to stop the assault on my sister. The second I raised my hoof, it was encased in Vice Brand’s yellow haze. I yelled, helplessly, “Lost, I-”

“Shut up and watch,” the stallion ordered.

The pegasus filly latched herself onto me, and draped a vomit-green wing across my back. “Daddy takes pride in his work, even if it means taking time away from us. You should really listen to him,” she said. 

I tore myself away from watching Cluster advance on my terrified-looking sister, as she tried in vain to back away. I looked at the filly. “How could you enslave your own daughter?” I asked him, aghast.

A hoof slammed onto my head, and I fell to the stage floor. My jaw crunched against itself when I struck, and pain shot through my entire skull. He forced my face forward with a twist of his hoof. “Watch,” Vice Brand yelled. “Bittersweet, this is a punishment. Shut up.” 

I stared forward into the pit, terrified of even blinking. I could feel the stallion watching me, and didn’t trust him not to split my skull open. Part of me tried to scramble away and drag myself from the scene. My hooves scraped against the wood without purchase until my body finally realized what my brain picked up on the minute it happened. I was stuck.

When Lost hit the wall of the pit, she shrunk down, crouching as close to the ground as she could. Her horn sparked, a flash of blue erupting over it before sputtering out. “Stop it!” she screamed, “Fuck off!”

Cluster just smiled. He jumped onto her, both forehooves dropping onto her frame with all his weight. She screamed in pain, howling for him to stop. He didn’t, instead he smashed his hoof into the side of her head, throwing her off her hooves and onto the dirt. When she finally stopped rolling, she dragged herself away from him. He didn’t give her the time to move, and lunged again, beating her with his forehooves until the sound of bone cracking echoed up, much to the delight of the ponies standing around the edge and watching. Screams of encouragement drowned out my sister’s pleas for him to stop, as he stomped down on her legs, her head, as he pulled at her tail and mane, and cracked a hoof hard onto her horn. Every time she’d get some distance, he’d drag her back with his teeth and continue his onslaught. Her coat began to shift in color, and her begging died out, replaced by her screaming and crying.

I couldn’t take it.

The stallion faltered, clenched his eyes shut, and grimaced. A green haze appeared around his horn, followed by a second, larger haze around it. A similar haze wrapped around Lost’s neck, and he lifted her battered body up. Spinning on his forehooves, he bucked her hard in the chest and sent her flying into the wall of the pit. She hit hard enough to leave a dent. Dropping to the ground, she just moaned and laid there, bleeding and twitching. It wasn’t enough. He stormed up to her and stomped on her again. Several ear-splitting cracks filled the air, and her side bent in, her ribs shattered. She screamed, her eyes shooting open and her pupils shrinking to pinpricks. She went limp, her eyes rolling back in her head. Cluster’s horn lit up again, and a green haze appeared around Lost’s neck. She lifted into the air, dragged against the pit wall. The stallion attacked again, smashing her with both fore and rear hooves. With a warcry, he sliced his horn across her chest.

Was it worth it to disobey an order and let others suffer? First Spark Light dying a slow and agonizing death? Now his friend getting revenge, even unknowingly, on my sister... Was it worth it? No. No it wasn’t, not this. I would be a murderer if it meant saving Lost.

My voice returned to me, and I yelled, begging,“Stop! I’ll listen. Celestia, Luna, have mercy!” Anything to make him to stop. I finally clenched my eyes shut and pinned my ears back. I could still hear it, and the grace of my eyes being closed did little to stop it. My heart wrenched, all too aware that my sister’s suffering was entirely my fault. I yelled over the din echoing up from the pit walls. “I’ll kill all she wants. Anything she wants. Tell her to use me. I’ll do anything. Please, please let my sister go. She didn’t do anything. Please, Vice Brand.” I corrected myself. “Master. Please!” I had to drown that sound out.

“Do not kill her,” ordered Vice Brand calmly, ignoring my begging. His filly just laughed at me.

It should have been me, down there being kicked and beaten. I flinched with every sound, not daring to open my eyes. I didn’t know where the blows were landing, but the crunch of bone and the heavy thuds of hooves against flesh was enough to spiral my mind back to where it had been the night before. 

I slammed my hooves against the stage, trying to force myself up.

I opened my eyes. I couldn’t not watch. This was a horror I had to see. It needed to be burned into my memory forever. When I fucked up, my sister paid the price. Until the day I died, or... or the day I got her killed. I needed to remember what happened for my mistakes. I watched the stallion whip Lost around the pit, smashing her into the walls and slamming her into the ground. I watched him kick her hard enough to break her open, to show bone. I watched him snap one of her legs. 

Every blow, every wound, I felt them too. My body ached because I couldn’t be there in my sister’s place. It was me who failed to kill Spark Light, and I deserved whatever Amble could throw at me. Tears rolled down my cheeks, but I couldn’t tell if it was from my heart breaking, or from the fear that Lost might end up dying, no matter what Vice Brand had ordered. 

She wasn’t fighting back, or begging for mercy. Her screams had long since gone silent, the only sound came from the stamp of hooves on the blood soaked ground. I couldn’t watch any more. Not with her head lolling to the side and her leg swaying back and forth below her. Cluster had stopped attacking, whatever enjoyment he was getting out of the fight gone. He held her in the air with his magic, showing off his work to the other slaves. Once more I closed my eyes. I prayed to the Goddesses, even if it was in vain, for my sister to live. I prayed Amble would order her healed. I couldn’t watch, I could only pray, and hurt.

Without the sounds of the beating, all I could hear was the maniacal giggling of the pegasus filly. My breath came ragged, and I kept flailing. I had to get down there. I had to make sure she was okay. The noise had stopped, and Vice Brand hadn’t said to stop. Lost might be dead. I needed to know. I didn’t want to look. I just-

The hoof on my head moved. “Enough,” yelled the slaver. “That, Bittersweet, is what can happen to you one day,” he said to the filly in a voice sweeter than he should have been able to talk in. He leaned down, and I could feel his breath in my ear. “Ponies who refuse to submit, who refuse to acknowledge their place... This is where they go,” he whispered. “Maybe if somepony had learned her place, we wouldn’t be in this situation.”

I finally opened my eyes. I forced them open, against everything that told me to keep them shut. I looked into the pit. Inside stood Cluster, breathing heavy and covered in sweat and blood. Lost lay on her side, blood draining from her in several places. Both her eyes were swollen shut, her horn was chipped, and her leg hung loose below her knee. Several of her ribs showed through where Cluster’s hooves and horn had cut into her and torn the skin away. Several chunks of her mane were missing, ripped loose from her torn bandanna and scattered around the pit’s floor. Purple spots dark enough to match what was left of her mane spotted her sides, throat, and legs.

Cluster yelled out a warcry, forcing his horn to life again. He hoisted my sister up in his magic once more and flung her from the bottom of the pit up onto the stage. 

She landed with a heavy thud and let out a quiet grown before falling silent. She was breathing, barely. The crowd of ponies across the pit yelled as loud as they could, cheering on the stallion who just beaten my sister into unconsciousness.

“Lost!” I yelled, and dove to her side. I didn’t touch her, afraid that I might make it worse. I cried over her, reaching out with my hoof and holding it just above her. I wanted to hold her, I wanted things to go back to the way they were before we started all this. 

“See what happens when you disobey orders?” asked the slaver stallion.

“You’re a fucking monster,” I snapped, glaring at him. I wanted to do much more, but I was at his mercy. My legs started to ache. I collapsed next to Lost, and gently took one of her hooves in mine. The pain and rage in my heart felt good. Rage I could use the minute I got free. Pain I wouldn’t ever forget. The kind that I’d give back to him when I ended his miserable life.

“And?” he asked.

“Daddy does his job great! One day he’ll even do me, and I’ll be his perfect daughter forever,” said the filly. She stomped down on my sister with her little hoof, a sadistic smile across her lips.

Lost groaned quietly, gasping.

“You’d torture your own daughter?” I asked, my rage turning to horror. Whatever Lost’s plan was, we needed to put it into motion now. Any more of this and I wouldn’t be able to go back to who I’d been before. My mind started to put together little possibilities, ideas of what would happen if I had to watch something like this again. The shaking of my legs, combined with the fear that my sister wouldn’t get up again after that beating, was nearly enough to kill me from guilt alone. Or to make me kill without any guilt.

I’d just gotten over being guilty over every other thing I did, over all the pain and death I’d caused. When it was family, that wasn’t something I could get over. We needed out before I let Amble get in my head.

“She was born a slave, and will learn her place,” he explained. “Can’t you see? This is a job. It’s a means to an end. Yes, I’m the bad pony. Fuck you. I’m a dedicated pony. I do my job, and I do the best I can, moral or not. Slave or slaver, does it matter?” He grabbed the filly in his foreleg and hugged her tight. “I keep me and mine safe, through whatever method. You’re just a worthless piece of trash who hasn’t learned that the Wasteland is bigger than you, and that there are other ponies with their own lives and motives.”

I stared up at him. A torturer, a slaver, lecturing me about how the Wasteland worked? I knew it didn’t revolve around me. I’d spent an entire night telling myself that ponies all had motives and that we all did what we had to to survive.

“Amble’s wrong about you. You don’t belong here, Miss Fortune,” he said, spitting my name. “You belong at the bottom of a grave with that one.” He pointed to my sister. 

“I belong with my sister, free of you!” I yelled at him, unable to contain myself. Tears rolled down my cheeks.

“You belong in your pen,” he said, stomping. “Look at her, suffering.” He pointed to Lost. “If you cared half as much about your sister as I do about my daughter, you’d have let Amble have you already. Slave or not, I care about Lemonsweet and our daughter. I’m the big bad slaver, tasked with showing the goods their place, but y’know what?” He got down in my face, and pressed his muzzle against mine, “I know when to stop fighting the way things work. I could try and let them go, against orders. Know what that would get me?” 

He paused for me to answer, but I couldn’t think of anything to say that wouldn’t make everything worse.

“I’ll fucking tell you,” he snapped. “It would get that bitch to put a collar on me, and to sell my family off.” He looked over to the two pegasi, then back to me. “What would you do in my situation? Fight and lose everything, or do what you have to in order to keep your loved ones safe?”

He admitted to being horrible. And he made a good case for being horrible. Isn’t that what I’d been doing? Making a case for why it was okay for me to do horrible things? If it kept Lost and I safe, could I really become a monster like him?

“Bittersweet, collect your mother,” Vice Brand ordered his daughter. “Let’s go reward our prized property.” Without the need for more prompting from her father, the filly fluttered over to the older mare, who hadn’t moved from her spot. Vice Brand’s horn began to glow, and Cluster lifted from the pit below.

The raider stallion smiled wide when he landed next to Vice Brand, and continued to work the crowd with that giant smile plastered on his face. The other slaves cheered and stomped their hooves, giving him their admiration. Vice left the stage, and his filly gave me a parting kick as she followed, a grin across her lips. She led her mother off after the two unicorns.

“Guards, take care of those two. Get the group back where they belong!” yelled the pink slaver over his shoulder.

From all sides, guards and slavers appeared as if from the walls themselves. A short guard with a black coat came and collected my sister and I. “Up ponies, back to your pens,” she said. She helped Lost up while I stood and watched. 

Ponies?

The guard threw Lost onto her back and started off, motioning me to follow. I stared at the guard as I followed. Watching her walk, I swore I’d seen that swaying gait somewhere before. I shook my head to clear it, despite the dull ache in my neck. Following so many ponies in the past few days, it all started to blend together. Lots of ponies walked like that, with swaying white tails and black coats. I’d seen half a dozen guards just like this one. 

My mind went over possibilities that couldn’t ever come true. I felt horrible for thinking about the guard, for thinking about escape, instead of thinking about my sister. I looked at her, draped across the slaver’s back. She cracked one of her swollen eyes open and looked back at me. Her normally white coat was almost completely purple now, and covered in slowly drying blood. 

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. 

She smiled back, and just closed her eye. She had a plan, we just needed to set it in motion.

“I need to see Amble,” I told the guard.


*   *   *


“What do I need to do so you’ll heal my sister?” I asked the second I sat down. I wasn’t going to let her ask any questions or start her mind trickery on me. I asked directly, not wanting to let her think I was desperate. 

“Tell me, Miss Fortune, did ya enjoy the show?” Amble asked, a small smile creeping across her lips, splitting her purple coat to flash her particularly white teeth. She sat at her desk, eating a delicious-looking meal of two-century-old snack foods and a Sparkle~Cola. 

I stared at her, unanswering. I should have known that there was no way she’d give me anything so easily. I didn’t have time to play the mind games. I was cracked enough already. I just... I needed to play along. Behave. That’s what Lost would do. She must have been behaving, because I hadn’t been punished for her failures. 

While Amble waited for an answer, she took another bite of her snack cake and looked at me. “Well?” asked the Slave Mistress after swallowing. She rolled her hoof in the air, wanting me to answer.

“Well what, Amble?” I asked. “I asked the first question! My sister needs to see Bonemeal.”

“Ya really need to learn ya place. My associates and Red Eye, or his ponies, can call me Amble. To ya, I am Mistress,” she corrected. “We’ll get to yer sister later, now I asked ya a question. Answer. How did ya enjoy the show? I’m sure a brutal pony like yerself got some pleasure out of it, even if it was yer sister...” She leaned back and smiled, wiping the crumbs from her lip with a hoof.

“I th- It-... You have interesting guards,” I stuttered, avoiding the subject. I knew what she wanted, but I didn’t want to give it to her. I stared at her desk instead, studying the patterns in the wood. They all seemed like little swirls, trailing patterns across the top. I didn’t want to think about whether I’d enjoy seeing a pony beaten near to death, even if it wasn’t my sister. Watching that was horrible and I could still feel the ache in my heart. I just needed to focus on getting her fixed up. “Please, I understand now. I’ll do whatever you need, if you promise to heal my sister!”

“Miss Fortune, answer my question before I have ya punished again,” she ordered, her tone changing just slightly. My pleas to help Lost fell on deaf ears.

“I hated it.”

“See, that wasn’t so hard. Here, eat. I need my favorite pet nice and healthy,” she said, reaching down and grabbing another snack cake. Smirking, she offered it to me. Despite the look she gave me, I took the cake from her outstretched hoof.

I raised it to my mouth, but stopped at the last second. This was too easy, she never gave me something without something in return. I closed my eyes, holding the cake still in front of my face. I wanted to take a bite so bad, but I couldn’t. I inhaled deep, and savored the smell. It was better than nothing.

“S’wrong Miss Fortune, don’t ya trust me?” she asked, a playful tone in her voice. “I’ve given ya everythin’ ya could ever want. Freedom from choice, a place to live, time with ya sister.” She slammed her hooves on the desk. I flinched.

“You hurt my sister,” I said, opening my eyes and looking over the snack. “And she needs to be healed. That raider fucked her up badly!” I still didn’t eat it. I wasn’t sure I could stomach anything after that. I just breathed in the scent, buying as much time as I could. The show was how I saw... If she was working for- No that didn’t make any sense.

Focus.

“Ya hurt yer sister, not me,” she corrected me. “And stop stealing my fucking food!” Reaching across the table, she snatched the cake away from me. “Yer a murderer, not a thief.” She took a bite of the snack cake and smashed the remains on the top of the desk.

“I’m not the one who threw her in the pit and had another slave beat her nearly to death!” I yelled. I hadn’t stolen the cake, either. She’d given it to me. Hadn’t she? I wanted to lean down and eat the pulverised remains. Just for a taste. I hadn’t tasted a snack cake in months. Or was it days? It felt like months... It would be worth it to steal one from her. I just reached out and grabbed.

Wait, when was the last time I’d had a real meal?

“Yer the one who decided ya were too good to murder,” she said, scooping up the snack cake remains and tossing them into her mouth. She chewed slowly, making me watch her eat. There must have been drool running down my chin, because she smiled, licked her lips and swallowed, “Sorry ‘bout that. I keep tryin’ to tell ya, all ya gotta do is listen. Show me ya understand where ya belong. Tell me how hard that really is, Miss Fortune.”

“Fine, I belong to you,” I said. If it would get my sister healed, then I would say it. My pride wasn’t worth her suffering any more than she needed to.

“Ya don’t mean that. Yer sayin’ it because ya want something, not because ya believe it,” she said, shaking her head. “Where do you belong?”

“I belong back home, with my sister,” I said. I looked away from her.

“Home? Which one?” she asked, a sly smirk crossing her lips. 

I just glared at her but kept my mouth shut. They were bad ponies, just like her. Just like... like Vice Brand. With families and worries and dreams. Bad or not, they deserved to live. All ponies under the Goddesses did, no matter how bad they were. They were all still ponies. Ponies I’d killed. She’d changed the subject again, and I’d fallen right into it.

She wanted to have me by the tail like she had Vice Brand. Like that sick, twisted filly of his, Bittersweet. What an appropriate name. Family at a price was exactly what Amble wanted. I needed to behave so Lost could get fixed up by Bonemeal.

“Amble-”

“Mistress,” she corrected. 

“I can’t call you that,” I argued. I saw in her deep purple eyes that she was a pony who knew her place amongst every pony around her. The Slave Mistress, calm and always in charge. I couldn’t call her that though.

“You can and will,” she said. She grabbed the Sparkle~Cola and took a deep swig. “Try again.”

I gritted my teeth, and grumbled, “Mistress.” Fuck my pride.

“Very good, now continue, Miss Fortune,” she ordered.

“Mistress, will my sister be healed?” I asked again. I stared at the desk. Focused on the swirling pattern. I couldn’t let her get back into my head. Taking a deep breath, I followed the little patterns. They led to safety. They led to freedom. L.A. would come up with a plan, and together we’d get out. We just had to try for it. Just like asking, if I didn’t try I’d never know. Or they led to ponies I would one day kill with a smile.

“See, that wasn’t so hard was it?” she asked with a smug smile. “We’ll see. Depends on whether ya behave or not. How bad do ya want yer sister to be safe, and free?”

“Well I-” I started. She put her hoof up to stop me. Twists and turns, little curves here and there. Don’t pay attention to what she says.

“I wasn’t done,” she continued, “Are ya ready to truly admit ya belong here, believe it, and work with me?” She paused for a moment, sat back in her seat, and closed her eyes. After a pregnant pause, she sighed and opened her eyes. “Y’know what, Miss Fortune? Just go. Yer not strong enough to hurt my operation anyway. Just walk out the gate and never come back.”

I didn’t wait for her to change her mind. I was out of the seat and running for the door. Thoughts of revenge played through my mind. Yes, a murderer. A murderer of slavers. Murdered with a smile across my face. That’s what she wanted, after all.

“Unless...”

I stopped in my tracks.

I knew it was too good to be true. She never told the truth. So far all she’d done was fuck with my head. Or... Had she even offered for me to leave in the first place? I tried to remember. All I could think of was that pause before she spoke.

“Do ya really want to go back to bein’ a murderer. Come, Miss Fortune. Sit,” she ordered. 

I could feel her smirk even with my back turned. I trotted back and sat down in the seat without hesitation. Had I really just obeyed a direct command? I shook my head, eyes clenched shut. I wasn’t her pet and I wasn’t her slave and I wasn’t listening to orders! I... I just thought it was better to sit and wait and find out what she had to say. Especially if she would help my sister. I still didn’t know for a fact where Lost was held, and I’d almost just run off without considering whether she’d be let free with me. It was completely my own choice to sit and listen. A thinky pony would listen. A sane pony would listen.

“Good filly, see? It’s not so bad when ya listen. If ya did that all the time, ya might just get a reward out of me,” she said. She grabbed the Sparkle~Cola bottle and took another drink, then passed it to me. “Here, Miss Fortune. Drink.”

I grabbed it, I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to drink after this pony. Everything about her was horrible, did I really want to touch anything she’d touched? I took a drink and finished the bottle. “I’ll do whatever you want. Can you please heal Lost?” I asked.

“Ya know what I want? I want a murderer, somepony without morals,” she pointed at me. “A pony like ya. I point. Ya kill. It’s that simple. Ya kill, yer sister stays safe, and healed.” The pink and purple slaver slammed her hooves down on the desk hard enough to make it bounce off the floor. “And ya know I’d never lie to ya.” A wicked smile formed on her lips.

“You’ve lied to me on several occasions,” I corrected. “You call me a murderer, I’m not a murderer.”

“Miss Fortune. I am not a liar, I have never been a liar, and I will never be a liar,” she said, glaring at me. “I am a businessmare. I do remember tellin’ ya that. I have a perfect memory ya see.” She waved her hoof in my face, much like mom used to do when scolding my sister or me. “If ya think I’m lyin’, I suggest ya have the next guard take ya to Doctor Bonemeal and get yer head fixed. I don’t take accusations like that well.”

I said nothing. I wanted to leave. I wanted to find that guard. I wanted her to get out of my head. 

“Okay, now that we’re on the same page. Tell me, Miss Fortune, did ya enjoy the show?”

“No. I did not like the show,” I answered.

“Then why do ya put yerself into situations like that?” she asked in a gentle calm voice. 

“I didn’t... You did.”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “Ya put yerself into the situation.” She pointed at me. “Ya just need to learn to listen so this type of thin’ won’t happen again.”

It wasn’t my fault! I hadn’t thrown Lost down there. I hadn’t... It wasn’t me who’d killed Spark Light. But I did let him bleed and die slowly. I had let him suffer. 

Just like I’d let Lost suffer. 

I looked away from Amble, down at the floor and hopefully somewhere where my face was hidden enough that she wouldn’t see me start to cry. I wanted out. I needed out. The plan had to be something that worked.

Please let that guard be... I chuckled under my breath. There was no chance. Not with my luck...

“Just throw me back in my pen.”

“Promise me, Miss Fortune. Promise me, and mean it, that ya work for me, and turn that ruthless murderer inside ya in the right direction,” she ordered. “Swear yer loyalty to me. Until the day ya die,” she flipped a hoof, “or until I get bored of ya. And I’ll let ya sister go. No collar. No bomb. No punishments. A place to stay in a room with you, and three meals a day. It’s that simple. Promise me, Miss. Fortune.”

I turned away from her. I didn’t know if I could trust her. She’d made good on her threat for punishment. Was the promise for reward just as good. Was she actually being honest?

“I...”

“Yer gonna be able to prove yerself later. I know just how, too...” She pointed to the door. She said, ever so politely, “Now, would ya kindly get out of my sight.”


*   *   *


“I’m sorry...” I said, without making eye contact. I hadn’t seen Lost at lunch yesterday. I was so happy to see her today when I walked in that I nearly jumped the line and ran straight to her without food. The bandages were off-putting though, and made my heart ache when I saw them.

“I’m sure there was a good reason,” she said with a grimace. One eye stared at me, the other taped over with gauze. Her bandana clung tightly to the remains of her mane, though I had trouble telling where purple mane ended and purple bruising began. A bandage wrapped around her torso, and a splint encased her hind leg. “They won’t let me see the doctor again. She got me stabilized, and then they dragged me out,” she explained.

We ate in silence afterward, until both meals were gone. I snuck looks whenever I felt I could, to see just how bad the damage was. She could still walk, which was the most important thing, aside from her being alive and well. Actually, ‘well’ was the furthest thing from what she was, but the fact that Cluster hadn’t killed her was huge.

“I’m still sorry... It’s my fault,” I said with a whimper.

“Let's change the subject, we don't have long to talk and that isn't important right now,” she said. She pushed her bowl away with a hoof. “I can start the plan soon. They time our contact here, I'll have Spark Light fill you in tomorrow. Have you seen him at all?” she asked. She tapped at the table idly, and looked around with her unpatched eye to see if a guard would wander by.

“No... Not in a few days,” I said, aching. The knowledge that I’d failed Amble’s test, and that it was what made them throw her into the pit weighed heavily on me. I’d tell her, just not yet. I was horrified that Lost would see though my bluff and know that Spark Light was dead. Or worse, find out that I killed him. 

Or find out that I hadn’t shown him mercy when I had the chance.

“Did you get a look at the guard that brought you out of that pit?” I asked, not wanting to talk about Spark Light or kill tests or Amble’s slow shattering of my confidence in my decisions. Maybe I should tell her. She’d know what to do then, and maybe it would help make her plan better?

“No, Hidden. My eyes were swollen shut. I couldn’t really see anything,” she answered. “I got a look at her eyes when we got there though. I need to plan better. Change things.” She closed her eye and leaned down onto her hooves on the table. “Make the plan better...”

A guard walked up before she could tell me any details. She just sat there and stared at the table, muttering little bits and pieces to herself. I reluctantly left with the guard, not that I had a choice in the matter. Lost just sat there as the guard took me away. She didn’t look after me, or say anything. 

I watched Lost until she was out of sight, and then I turned to follow the guard. She led me out of the mess hall and across the courtyard, swinging a baton in her magic while whistling a tune. It sounded like something I’d heard on the PipBuck’s radio, but that was so long ago that I really couldn’t place it.

I missed the radio...

The radio! The radio had a broadcaster. Did Lost remember? Would it do any good? I was a murderer, would the Steel Rangers want me back? I laughed to myself, knowing full well Praline would welcome us with open hooves even if we burned the entire Wasteland down. The thought gave me something to focus on as I followed the slaver guard. 

If she could get ahold of Praline, or Lamington, or any of them! We could get them to come rescue us. And then we could find where my gun was. And I could murder every single one of them! 

No. Bad Hidden! 

Amble said I’m a murderer. I couldn’t prove her right. I could get out of this without killing everypony. Just a few need to die. Really Slipstock was the only pony that needed to die. I’d gladly be a murderer if it meant killing that bitch.

Thinking about revenge again... I needed to stop thinking about that, especially now that Amble had her hooves in my mind. I wanted revenge. I needed it. But I needed it out of my mind more, no more fuel for her fire. 

I was a good pony. I only killed when they deserved it. Or when they attacked me. Or when they came back to their home and somepony else was sleeping in it. But I wasn’t a murderer! I was a survivor, a treasure hunter. Not a puppet for her to use as a killing tool.

I would ask Lost about the broadcaster the next time I saw her. 

“Oi! We’re fuckin’ here,” snapped the guard. She put the baton to my neck to stop me. She’d stopped several hooves back and I was so lost in thought that I’d kept on past her.

We stood in front of the building Spark Light had died in. I shuddered, and backpedaled to stand behind the guard. “Why... Why are we here?” I asked as quietly as I could. A good slave didn’t ask questions, but I needed to know.

She just laughed and hit me with the baton across my cutie mark. I jumped, and she led me inside. 

Standing in what must have been a lobby was that stallion with the stupid-looking green goatee again. Ugh, he even wore a striped vest that looked even stupider than his goatee. Did slavers really think dressing like that was a good thing? He smiled the moment he saw me and stepped up.

“So! You must be my star today!” he said, taking my steel forehoof in his. “A pleasure to meet you, I say, a veritable pleasure. I wager that you’re most excited to kill today, aren’t you, Miss Fortune?” He backed up and placed a hoof in front of his chest. “Miss, you are dismissed,” he said to the guard, pointing his other forehoof toward the door. He stood up on his hind legs, and flashed a wide smile that might have been nice if he wasn’t a slaver, and continued, “Introductions are in order! I am Mister Sell. Hard Sell. Under normal circumstances, I am the arena master here, with the exception of the rare event where Amble herself personally hosts a show.”

I stared at him, extremely confused. I was also really jealous of his balance on his hind legs.

“If only I had an audience to purvey my shows to...” he lamented. “Alas, slaves are not particularly enthused by the prospect of watching one of their fellows ‘bite it,’ to use the colloquialism.” He dropped back down onto all four hooves. “Follow me, Miss Fortune.” He trotted down one of the hallways, and I followed him without question.

I took the time to check the cutie mark emblazoned on his dark blue coat as we walked. A cane with the end covered in blood. How fitting for a slaver, or arena master, or whatever he was. I shook my head. 

With great enthusiasm, he continued his speech. “Now, I have heard about your dismal performance the other day. I do think we can get a better show out of you this time. It is a simple matter of motivation!” he said and stared at me. “So, I think...”

He paused for a moment, before finally opening his eyes wide, smiling, and raising a hoof to the air. “Aha! Motivation. Would you like to choose the pony you will kill today?” he asked, the sick smile still across his lips.

“I’m not a murderer,” I snapped.

“Oh, pish-posh! Certainly you are. You should pay better attention to Amble’s lessons,” he said, and his smile vanished. “Otherwise we might see more of one another. I am certain you’d fit right in. We can skip the selection process, if you prefer.” He paused and looked to an open doorway on the left side of the hallway. “Wait a moment, if you please. I need to retrieve something.” He ducked into the room, clattered about, then popped back out with a long, segmented cane held in the air, surrounded by a deep red haze. “I do apologize. Come now, slave. We have a show to perform!”

He stood me in the same spot I’d been in the other day, when I’d gotten Spark Light killed. I shook, my legs unsteady, not wanting to see the pony they’d bring out. I closed my eyes and pinned my ears back. Slipstock wasn’t in the room with me, and neither was Amble. Did that mean I was in the clear? The sound of slow hooffalls broke my concentration. I opened my eyes and watched a familiar green-maned unicorn trot in.

Sunbright. Great. I was fucked.

Sunbright flipped her mane and took a seat in the corner of the room, right where Slipstock had sat the last time. She glared at me, looking none too pleased about being in the room to watch. Just what type of torture had she done to Lost to make her stop using her magic? To make her look so sick?

Hard Sell trotted in with another slave in tow. He held the leash to a young mare, barely older than a filly. She struggled and pulled at the leash with every step, flailing her pink and blue mane around and stomping her hooves as much as she could. Hard Sell ignored her, and forced her to stand across from me.

“Now, I’m sure you know what to do!” he yelled. “So... GO!” 

I didn’t move. I wasn’t going to kill another pony, no matter what. They could just take her back and take me to my pen and we’d be done. “No.”

“Dammit, Hard, ya know she’s not goin’ to,” Sunbright snapped. “Skip the shit.”

“Tut-tut, Sunbright. We must give her a chance,” said the unicorn stallion, waving his cane in the air.

“Just fuckin’ do it already,” said the other slave, staring me down with her golden eyes. Her sides heaved, and her nostrils flared. She had no slave collar on, so they weren’t going to kill her, even if I didn’t. I breathed a sigh of relief. The other slave jabbed me in the ribs. “Come on. C’mon!” She gritted her teeth in a defiant attempt at a smile. “I bet you can’t. Wuss. Too much of a pussy.”

“Whoa, no. I’m not a pussy,” I protested. “I just don’t kill ponies that I don’t have to. I’m a survivor, not a murderer.” All three burst into laughter.

The slave cut off harshly and twitched a few times. “Fuck you,” she said. “You’re big, you’re strong, you could get the fuck out of here if you just did it, and you’re sitting here, taking the moral high ground? They practically hoofed me to you on a plate.” She growled and shoved me. “And you can’t even do it. Coward.”

“Come now, speed this process along,” said Hard Sell in the kindest voice I’d heard in ages. “I don’t want to make you. You can do it, I believe in you!” He practically shouted the last part.

I didn’t want to kill this pony! I’d never even met her before. What reason did I have to kill a random pony? I wasn’t a fucking murderer! My own mind screamed at me, I’m not a fucking murderer. I could kill her easily. She was barely bigger than a filly. But I wasn’t that kind of pony!

I shook my head a few times. “No,” I said. I didn’t want to think about what would happen with my refusal, but I just... I couldn’t take this step. Lost would suffer, but they’d already beaten her. Amble knew better than to just throw her bargaining chip again, so what more could they do to her? I couldn’t give in and let Amble have that power over me. Not at the cost of another pony’s life.

“Alright, you leave me no choice,” Hard Sell said, and stepped forward. His cane floated up, then crashed down across the slave’s back, hard enough to drop her onto her knees.

“What? No! Stop!” I screamed, grabbing at the cane as he swung it through the air. He lifted it up and flung me away. I slammed into the corner. “Stop it! There’s no reason!” I yelled as I got up. I didn’t try and physically stop him again, knowing better. I looked down at my hoofcuffs.

The slave screamed, but the assault didn’t stop. Over and over he swiped and smacked the mare. He didn’t smile or laugh. He worked silently, so that the only sound was his cane cracking against her hide. By the time he finished, she was covered in bruises and cuts. He beat her until blood coated his cane.

I flinched with every hit. Each bruise, each cut, it was as if I’d beaten her myself. Would it be mercy to end this? She could get better. Sure, she’d be sore, but that would pass in time. I stood my ground, refusing to kill her. Even if part of me wanted to.

Behave. Obey. Save Lost.

“Stop I’ll... I’ll do it. Just,” my mouth said on its own. I blinked a few times, in shock. Had I really just said that? No! Amble won if I let her get to me, if I let her make me kill a pony to show my loyalty to her.

But if I killed her...

Lost would go free, and be allowed to stay without being a slave. Amble promised that, didn’t she? I swore she did, but she promised a lot of things that ended up just being my mind playing tricks on me.

“B-bullshit. You can’t... kill me,” the mare said, spitting blood. She looked scared now, and shook on her hooves. Tears trickled down her face from the pain, despite her defiant grimace. “You won’t. You,” she paused to cough up more blood, “wouldn’t. You c-can’t.” She took a shuddering breath, and snorted, regaining her footing. Was it false bravado she was showing off? Trying to get a dignified death from another slave, rather than having a slaver use her until she expired? Maybe she wanted to scare me off, or maybe she was trying to make me do it out of rage?

“Please...” she whispered, her voice cracking. “...don’t kill me.” Her horn sparked a few times, as if she were trying to do something. No magic came out.

“No... you’re right,” I said. “I... I can’t.” I was going back on what I’d said not a minute before. I needed more time! I couldn’t give in and let the Slave Mistress win!

“This is takin’ too long. What’s yer verdict, Hard Sell?” asked Amble’s bodyguard. She looked bored again.

“Give her another minute or two,” he responded. “I want to see where this goes.” His cane twirled in the air, splattering flecks of blood along the floor and walls.

If I had some Buck, I wouldn’t need to think about it. It would just happen. That wonderful euphoria of ‘must smash everything’ could take over, and kill this pony for me. Actually, Buck would be perfect for this. Take away the pain, let another pony somewhere else far far away deal with the guilt. Dull the ache and make me smash this mare without worry or stress. It was worth a try to ask? “Do... Do you have any Buck?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

“No, no, little slave. That would be cheating. It needs to be honest, loyal,” explained Hard Sell. He snapped his cane down and splattered the rest of the blood off it. “I do believe that I’m beginning to doubt your resolve. How disappointing. Do you feel any loyalty at all to our beloved Slave Mistress? She has such high hopes for you, Miss Fortune. Come on, step up, prove yourself! Break down that final wall of pesky thinking. Give in, accept your place by her side!” he shouted, holding the cane up as if he were a regal prince.

The slave mare stared at me. Her knees shook, and her eyes shone with fire. I could see the muscles in her jaw clench. She didn’t want me to kill her. She didn’t think I could, did she? Almost... Almost as if she thought that taunting me would make me back off, and fail this test.

Did she know they’d kill her anyway?

I swallowed hard. I needed to kill this mare.

I had to do it for Lost. If this pony died so my sister was safe, that was just another means of survival. Thinky ponies made decisions based on what they knew. Lost made decisions on what she knew, on the best chances to get out alive, or the best chances to find treasure when hunting. If I killed to save Lost, did that mean I was loyal to Amble, that she’d gotten into my head and I let her win? Or did it mean I was getting better at weighing my actions against their consequences?

“For Lost Art. I’m doing this. For my sister,” I announced and took a step forward.

The cane blocked my path.

“For all the wrong reasons,” said the green-goateed stallion. “Alas. I am very much disappointed. You were so very close. The killing itself was of very little importance. It was, sadly, the reason you were to kill, that was important.” He pushed me back with the cane, and held it at my chest. “Sunbright, if you would be so kind, teach Miss Fortune another important life lesson. Let her know why the proper reasons for killing are important.”

“What?” I yelled. “I said I would-”

Sunbright’s horn flashed bright orange before I could finish my sentence.

The young slave mare burst into flames.

“-kill her...”

The slave screamed as her coat ignited. Her eyes began steaming, and her mane caught fire and began burning away in an acrid wash of black smoke. Her hide blistered and flaked. Her screams broke into hacking, screaming coughs.

I stared. No. I didn’t. I hadn’t. I would have. I said I would. But this. This, I... I...

She wheezed and fell over, twisting and writhing. Her flesh cooked and bubbled, sizzling as her own body fueled the fire that consumed her. I smelled the cooking flesh and burning fat.

Memories of the fire from Wirepony flared in my mind. I backpedaled against the wall, afraid of the fire. It once meant light and heat. Now it just terrified me. I felt my back and leg tense, making me squirm. I could tell both Sunbright and Hard Sell were enjoying themselves as they smiled, watching me. Fire, something that had once come close to killing me.

The cooked red of the slave’s skin gave way to a sickly, ashy off-white. She stopped screaming, but kept moving. There was no mercy in the fire. She was still alive, and thrashed even worse. She foamed at the mouth, and the painful breaths she managed were gasps and coughs. Her skin started cracking and shrinking off her body. Clear liquid seeped and out from beneath and pooled down into the flaming puddle around the mare. 

Was that what my back looked like after Wirepony launched a grenade onto me? After the flamethrower charred my hide?

My shock finally faded, replaced by all-encompassing terror. “Stop it!” I screamed. “Stop making her suffer!”

They didn’t stop. She kept burning. Sunbright cooked her alive. Her eyes... Oh, Goddesses... I threw up what little gruel I had in me. I couldn’t tell if it was from fear or the gruesome sight.

She finally, agonizingly, died. The fire kept burning, sloughing her skin off and dripping it to the ground. It looked like the flesh that the Wirepony kept inside its armor, only less rotten and more charred. By the time Sunbright put her out, there was nothing left but blackened bones and scorched flesh in a puddle of burned grease. The smell was unbearable.

“Well. I suppose I’ll need to have this cleaned,” muttered Hard Sell. He held a hoof over his nose, a sad grimace on his lips.

“Why?” I asked, shaking. 

“You took too long, and you weren’t obeying orders,” Hard Sell explained. “You need to be loyal to Amble first, and your sister second. You’re a tool now, not a pony. Now come.”

I stood and followed, wobbling on my hooves. Fine. Amble won. I couldn’t take this anymore. I took one last look at what remained of that pony. She was so young, with a streak of rebellion that I would have admired, if the situation were different.

Be a tool. Save my sister. 

Fine. Amble had her tool. I’d prove it the next chance I got. 

She had my sister beaten to within an inch of her life. Killed a pony by letting him bleed out. Condemned a mare barely out of fillyhood to die by fire in front of me. I could obey. Even I wasn’t that stupid or short-sighted.

I needed to tell Lost as soon as possible. I’d let Amble know too.

“I’ll be her tool.”

“I knew you’d see it our way,” he said with a smirk. “Next time, you can prove it.”

Next time. Next time indeed.


*   *   *


“I really wanted to do this on better terms, but ya just seem intent on pushin’ my limits,” explained Amble. She sat at her desk, her hoof propping up her head. She looked rather annoyed and impatient. “Oh well, it’s an interestin’ aspect of the business. Ya woulda seen it sooner or later, anyway.” She looked toward the door, then rested her head back on her hoof. “As soon as yer sister manages to hobble in.”

“I understand my place, Mistress. Will you please heal her?” I asked, staring at the desk again. The swirling pattern didn’t mean anything anymore. The lines trailed into nothingness, no end and no beginning. “Please?”

“We’ll see,” she snapped. “Ya proven yerself to be nothing but a disappointment. If ya learn yer lesson and understand that why ya belong here is just as important as knowin’ that ya do belong here...” She tapped her free hoof on the desk a few times, trailing off. Frowning, she changed topics, “She’d better hurry that broken ass’a hers up.”

“Mistress she’s hurt, please give her time,” I said barely above a whisper. I wondered what it meant to have pride, now that I’d let another pony get so far into my head and control me. I just wanted my sister to be safe. I swore I’d do whatever she wanted, so why the show of power? 

Did I really need to kill a pony to prove myself to her?

The door chimed and creaked open. I didn’t look up. I knew who it was. Off-beat hooffalls echoed through the open room and past the half-wall. Amble smiled and said, “There ya are, about time.” We both looked over the half-wall to my sister.

She wore the same bandages from before, already soiled from her wounds. The splint held her leg in place, but she grimaced every time she put her weight on it. Her movement was slow, barely above a walk. No guard escorted her, because there wasn’t a need for one. Where would a pony in her condition escape to? She looked at me with her unpatched eye, forced a weak smile, and worked herself into the seat beside me.

She whimpered as she sat. Her leg swung out awkwardly, and some joint or another popped and cracked when she put her weight down on the seat. Her eye shut tight, and she grit her teeth, but made no other noises.

“Excellent, now that yer both here. Get up. We’ve got business to tend to,” ordered the Slave Mistress. She hopped up and grabbed a saddlebag from a hook on the half-wall and started toward the door. “Now, I want to show ya a more interestin’ part of the business,” she explained as she walked.

I helped Lost out of her chair, and we followed. I moved slow, staying next to my sister and helping to keep the weight off her leg. Just like she’d done when my leg was broken. Neither of us talked, fearing that Amble might do something wicked. She could do anything she wanted and get away with it. No torture was outside of her imagination, not to mention the slavers she kept under her. I looked down at my hoofcuffs and shuddered against my sister, making her groan in protest.

I stared at the swaying tail of the pink and purple pony. Would she have been so wicked if Equestria had never fallen? I fought back tears, not sure if they were of pain or just sadness. Something pushed an intelligent, strong mare to this point, made her wicked. A businessmare? She could have saved the Wasteland if she only put that mind to better use. With so many ponies rallied under her cause, what made her snap?

Did it matter? She owned me now, and deep down in my heart I knew I would never get out. The most I could hope for was total submission to save my sister. Lost could be healed. She could be saved. Was I too far gone? 

We followed her to the far side of the town, past the pens and the pit, past the smiling guard with the sharpened teeth. She stared at us as we passed, gnashing them together. It didn’t bother me anymore, knowing that we were under guard at all times, that one wrong move could kill us. Lost shivered against me, and I looked her in the eye.

She gave me a look, winced, and kept walking. Her steps came steadier as we walked, whether from my support or just because the pain was lessening, I didn’t know. Maybe she just got used to it. 

“Keep up,” Amble ordered, “I want to make it before they start. We need to see Bright Eyes.” The pony turned around a corner and we had to rush to keep up. She made no special treatment for how slow the two of us needed to move. She sped up as we crossed, looking back with a grin, daring us to go too slow with her smile.

We finally arrived at a building in the corner of the town, alongside a large stage and several rows of seats. A few ponies were sitting in them, but Amble directed us into the single story office building before I could get a look at any of them. The building looked like it had once been several stories taller, but Balefire and time had worn away the top. Windows were shattered and boarded up, nothing could be seen of the inside.

Amble kicked the door a few times and yelled, “Bright Eyes, open up!” She kept slamming the door. 

“Bright Eyes is busy right now, Am- I mean, Mistress,” yelled a meek voice through the door. It opened with a creak and single eye peeked through the crack. A violet mane fell across the eye and covered it, before a hoof could push it away. “She’s prepping for auction...”

“I don’t care, open up Bell, before I sell ya off to the brothel in Idle,” snapped Amble. She squinted and leaned in close. “Don’t tempt me.” Her hoof slammed into the door and pushed it further open, before it caught loudly on a chain.

“Give me one minute! I’m not presentable!” yelled another mare’s voice.

“Presentable my flank! Open. Now!” Amble yelled again while pounding on the door. “Ya open up now or yer little assistant here becomes fodder for Slipstock til a buyer shows up!” 

“Fine fine! Give me just a second,” yelled the voice again. 

I couldn’t tell whether I would be more scared of being sold, or being stuck here with Amble for the rest of my life. I looked at my sister and hugged her gently. This was one of the few moments of affection and closeness I could get from her, without a guard around. I took what I could get. The nuzzle she gave me back lifted my spirits.

The door finally opened and an absolutely gorgeous unicorn mare stepped into the light. She stood a bit taller than the three of us, with thin elegant legs. Her mane practically gleamed crimson and gold, teased off to the right side of her face. She stared through me with ice blue eyes and cocked a wicked smile. Turning with a flourish, she showed off a cutie mark of an auction tag with a tube of lipstick, and motioned for us to enter with her. The only flaw in her perfect appearance were the patches of grey showing through her white coat.

Amble pushed past her with a grunt, and we followed. Inside looked as expected of an office from before the war. Desks were pushed to the sides of the room, and covered in makeup, brushes and dyes. A filthy mirror was propped up on one of the desks against the wall, and jury-rigged lights hung atop it to make it easier to see through the grime. Several streaks of dye splattered across the top, and empty bottles littered the floor.

The pony who’d answered the door sat in the corner, looking away. A two-toned mare with a tan coat and purple mane, she twitched nervously, while looking at the pony Amble called Bright Eyes. Her long straight mane swayed with each flinch. Her tail curled against her side as she tried to make herself as small as possible, neatly framing her makeup set cutie mark.

Bright Eyes on the other hoof looked all too pleased. She smiled at Amble, and picked up a small black brush in her magic. “Now, Amble, I swear,” she said, “if you’re going to be doing business in public, you need to look the part. Hold still while I put some mascara on you. It’ll bring out your ey-” 

Amble smacked the mascara out of the air and stepped closer, frowning something fierce. “If I come knocking on yer door, ya better open it the first fuckin’ time,” she yelled. “Now listen, fix up the one with the bandana. I need her lookin’ perfect. Get her as close as ya can to it without actually fixin’ her. And explain to ‘em both what ya do.”

“Yes ma’am!” answered the unicorn mare with a curtsey. 

“Bell Boot. Hooficure, now,” Amble snapped. The slaver sat up on a desk and pointed at her rear hooves. The other pony snapped to attention and grabbed a file from the desk. Dropping to the floor before the pink and purple earth pony slaver, she got to work on the offered hoof without hesitation. 

“Miss Fortune, sit down. This might take a while,” Amble ordered, leaning back and smiling. She looked very content, having her hind hoof worked on by the other pony. 

Part of me wondered what having my hooves cared for would feel like, especially after the spikes and having a hoof eaten. I curled them close to me as I sat down. I didn’t want anypony near them ever again. I stayed quiet, paid attention, and did as I was told. I didn’t need to give Amble anything more for her to use against me.

“Okay! This will be a bit of work, but I’m sure I can pull it off,” said the white-dyed pony with a forced smile. “Just sit here and... Mmm.” She trotted off.

Lost looked at me, and I just nodded. We both knew, behaving was the only way to get out of this alive. Maybe I’d be prettied up next and... I didn’t want to know what Amble had planned.

“Normally I don’t see ponies in such bad condition,” Bright Eyes explained, “but I can make it work.” She levitated a brush up and began to work on the remains of L.A.’s mane. “Now, nopony wants to buy somepony that looks like trash. A slave’s only worth what she looks like she’s worth. And since there’s not a rental option, we need to make you look pretty.” She brushed hard, making my sister wince and grimace as the knots were worked out of her mane.

“See, there’s a minimum buyout,” explained the unicorn as she brushed. “If we can’t get more than we’ll get from Red Eye for the goods, there’s no reason to sell.” She put the brush down and grabbed some shears. Without a word she cut the bandages around Lost’s chest off and frowned. “This is going to be a lot of work....” 

“It just has to look nice, understand?” asked Amble. She kicked Bell Boot in the face. “Other hoof.”

“Yes ma’am,” answered Bright Eyes. She lifted up a needle and thread and got to work stitching Lost up. 

Lost did her best to hold back any screams, only allowing herself to cry and whimper whenever Amble wasn’t looking. I wanted to go to her, and make the pain stop, but with Amble watching me, I couldn’t do anything. I had to be a good slave, I had to know my place. Lost’s safety was more important. She could get over some stitches.

“Alright, that’s...” whispered Bright Eyes. “I guess it’s fine. Whatever.” She tossed the needle onto the desk with her telekinesis and grabbed a pen. The pen traced along L.A.’s side a few times, each pass making her wince and shy away. When Bright Eyes deemed her work done, she tossed the pen away. The dyed unicorn then grabbed a puffy-looking ball from the desk. “Well, it’s a start...” With a smash into some powder, she coated Lost’s side and covered up the bruises and cuts. The slaver pelted the powder puff hard and fast enough to create a cloud of powder in the air. “Good enough. This really isn’t my forte... I’m used to dyeing ponies, not ponies that are dying!” she said with a laugh.

“Just make it look good.”

“Of course! Turn your head this way, slave,” ordered the... what were they called? Beautifier? Beautician? Yeah, I think I’d seen that somewhere. She grabbed Lost by the jaw with her telekinesis and wrenched her head to the side. “You know Mistress, this would be much easier if you’d let me into that salon of yours.” She powdered Lost’s face until all the blood was blended away, and then tossed the puff ball aside. 

“Stop harpin’ on gettin’ my office,” snapped the Slave Mistress. She pulled her rear hooves away from Bell Boot and motioned for her to work on the forehooves. “Yer here because it’s close. Ya know damn well that we can’t let our secrets out. My business would go under in a heartbeat...” She glared at me, and I knew better than to ask questions.

“I know, the lighting would just help ever so much,” she said in a sickly sweet voice. Her magic wrenched Lost’s jaw to the other side. “Close your eyes.” Lost did as she said, and she grabbed a pen and started to draw on my sister’s eyes. “This’ll make them pop, and that’s what brings in the big caps!” she announced with a giggle. “Bigger cut for me!”

“You’re not going to... Sell my sister... Are you!?” I asked, horror overtaking me. 

“We’ll see what happens.”

“Ma’am, what should I do about the brace?” asked Bright Eyes.

“Worry about that later,” ordered the Slave Mistress with a grin. She stared me right in the eyes. “Now do ya see what happens if ya fail me? Ya won’t listen to reason, ya won’t listen to force. So, we’re at an impasse.” She pointed her free forehoof at Bright Eyes. “Her specialty is makin’ ponies look good. Let’s hope we get a good price.”

My brain locked. I felt my body shake on its own. “You... You can’t!” I argued. “I’ll do whatever you want! Anything! I-” A hoof in the air stopped me. My mind raced. Selling Lost? No, the Goddesses wouldn’t allow it! Amble wasn’t this stupid, without my sister as a bargaining chip, how would she keep me under... I hung my head. Did she not need my sister as leverage anymore? I stared at Lost, trying not to let her or Amble see my heart shatter and my tears flow. I mouthed the words ‘you can’t’ over and over, unable to find a voice for myself.

“Ya had yer chance. Sit, and be quiet,” she ordered. “Bell,” she said, looking at her hooves. “Good job. Go get Fine Tune and the others. I want today to be a good day for caps.” 

The tawny mare saluted and bolted from the room.

“Really Ma’am, the change-” started the beautician. She clasped her hoof over her mouth as her eyes went wide. “Anyway! I need to cover this chip in her horn!” she said, busying herself with the supplies on the desk.

Amble shot her a look, and snarled. “Bright Eyes. I swear I’m gonna sell ya one of these days... You,” she said and pointed a perfectly polished hoof at me. “Come.”

I got up without a word, still mouthing to myself that she couldn’t sell my sister. When Amble left the room, I followed. I looked at my sister one last time. She sat there unmoving, her unpatched eye wide and full of terror. I tried to go back to her, but my legs took me after Amble outside of my control. 

The door slammed hard, echoing deep inside my hollow, shattered insides.


*   *   *


A dozen or so ponies sat in rows before the auction block, talking in quiet murmurs as they waited patiently. Amble and I sat on a raised platform at the back of the auction floor. I looked over the ponies, trying to distract myself. Most were just Wastelanders, a regular bunch of ponies I never would have expected to be slavers if I saw them anywhere else. A few stood out; a purple unicorn wearing goggles over her horn who looked around with a raised eyebrow and had a strange gun strapped to her. One member of The Ashen sat a few seats down, a yellow mare with several green rings around her forelegs and a gigantic rifle strapped across her back. A dark unicorn stallion with a monocle sat reading a book to pass the time. The most interesting one though, was a very colourful zebra who seemed to be the most out of place, both the ‘white’ and ‘black’ parts of his coat shifted colors in differing shades from red to violet and back again.

I supposed Amble sold to whomever paid most, rather than discriminate against any type of pony or zebra.

“I want you to pay attention,” Amble said, hitting me on the back. She gave a few thumps and smirked. “This is a business. I can’t tell ya my secrets, for obvious reasons...” She shot me a glare. “But I need ya to see what happens when ya fail me.” She waved a hoof at the ponies all sitting and waiting. “I take loyalty very seriously. Remember I said my doctor was a slave? She’s still a slave, and the minute I feel her loyalty to me slip, I will put her on the auction block and find another pony to do her job.”

I nodded.

“So when I tell ya that I want my slaves to be loyal, I want them loyal not just because they fear the consequences,” she continued, “but because I know what’s best for them.” She looked down at me with a wide grin. “Ya know I know what’s best for ya. Ya belong here by my side, killin’ ponies that get in my way, and protectin’ yer sister. I watch out for my own, ya know.”

I nodded again. My brain hadn’t caught up yet.

“Assumin’ she doesn’t get sold today...”

I yelped, and looked over at her. My body finally moved when I told it to. “No, please. Look, I understand. You know what’s best! If you want a murderer, I can be a murderer. Just let me and my sister stay together,” I begged. I put my forehooves together, clanking the shackle against the replacement hoof.

“See, there ya go again, with that ‘me and my sister’ business,” she chided. “Ya need to understand, it’s not about the two of ya. It’s about me and what I want. Me allowin’ yer sister to stay is charity and should be understood as such.” She pointed over to Bright Eye’s building, where a door on the side was slowly creaking open.

I followed the line of her hoof and resigned myself to what came next. Bell Boot trotted out with a pony on a leash. I didn’t recognize the mare, but it didn’t matter. She trotted her up to the stage, followed by Hard Sell with his goatee. 

The stallion had a brilliantly white smile, and took place at a the center of the stage. He twirled his cane a few times, and hooked it into the end of the slave’s leash. Bell Boot trotted back to the building and out of sight, pulling the door closed behind her.

“Welcome fillies and gentlecolts! I’m so glad you could all make it! I trust getting through security was no problem?” he asked, flashing that wide smile. The crowd muttered all at once, and he took the time to shush them. “Tut tut everypony, there is a reason we have such high security. If there are concerns, please, talk to Flashbang at any time and he’ll clear up all of your misconceptions.” 

My ears skewed forward to listen, interest betraying my horror. Slavery was terrible, I knew first hoof. Under no circumstances should any pony be bought, sold, or owned. But the process... I could pay attention at least once. I would be sold one day, like a good slave, once I wore out my usefulness. I should at least take in what I could of the process while I had the time. 

Deep down I cried. I kept it bottled as far down as I could, past the pricks and pokes of the claws in my brain that told me how wrong this was. Down past the spot where my heart should have been, and past the twisting knot in my stomach. I hid the pain somewhere I couldn’t reach or think about. If only I could kill Amble here, where no pony would see, behind all the other guards.

Would I live long enough to get Lost if I did? I looked over at the slaver. Once Amble had me in her grasp, she wouldn’t need to be so terrible, right? 

Of course!

Once I was a good little pet bodyguard or whatever she wanted of me, my treatment would get so much better! Why hadn’t I realized it before? I laughed inwardly, feeling a bit stupid. It made so much sense!

I missed the introductions.

Hard Sell swung his cane down, slamming the tip onto the rotting wood of the stage. The mare next to him turned around to face the crowd. “As you can see she’s in perfect physical condition,” announced the arena master turned auctioneer. “The slave comes trained and broken, ready to do whatever you may need! Per our usual, collars are not included! You may purchase one extra, but you will need to speak to Hoof Pick after the auction has completed. Shall we start the bidding at...” He paused and looked the slave. With a nod, he gave a price, “Two hundred caps.”

One pony shouted something, and then it became a frenzy. Hard Sell spoke so fast I couldn’t keep up, the words all ended up blurring together. Ponies called out and Hard Sell responded by pointing his hoof and shouting faster. The poor slave mare on stage just quivered and stared at the floor.

I knew how she felt. I looked at my shaking legs. When did that happen?

“Sold!” yelled Hard Sell, and he motioned to a slate grey pony off-stage to step up. They traded the pony off and lead her over to Lead Line, whom I hadn’t noticed seated next to yet another holding pen with her paperwork. She scrawled quickly into her papers and ordered the slave be put in the pen. 

Bell Boot brought out another pony, and the process started again.

By the fifth pony I was past being shell shocked or interested in how the selling of ponies was handled. They brutally handled the slaves to show off every feature and made it look even more horrible than I imagined. The only pony that broke the monotony was pale blue unicorn stallion with crystal blue eyes that had no pupils. Was he related to Flood Light? Goddesses she really didn’t have any problem selling families apart. Nearly every auction went the same, aside from Amble’s commentary.

She took a twisted pride in her job, explaining how certain ponies were broken, and how much of a fight they’d put in. She made little comments about the ponies who did the buying, which were new and which were regulars. One in particular, she kept pointing out, saying that if the mare didn’t buy anything, she’d catch her and sell her off. 

Everything went in one ear and out the other. The longer the auction went on, the worse I felt. By the tenth pony I was holding back throwing up from stress. I knew I was sweating and fidgeting the whole time. When was it going to end? Was Lost still going to be sold? “Why...” I asked in a whisper.

“I will humor ya askin’ a question out of turn because ya been sittin’ quiet and watching,” Amble said. “Why what?”

“Why are you doing this to me?” I asked. Before she could answer, I finished, “I mean, making me sit here, thinking every pony that comes next will be my sister...”

“Helps ya remember,” she said. She grabbed the bomb collar around my neck and pulled me close to her. Pressing our noses together, she grinned. “Remember this always, and remember yer place. That feelin’ sittin’ here waitin’ for a loved one to be sold off. If that sister of yers doesn’t get sold off today... Ya get to know exactly the feelin’ any time ya do wrong by me.” She explained so matter of fact and calm that my heart practically stopped.

“Yes, Mistress.”

“She’s next,” Mistress announced. Oh, so she’d known the whole time and just wanted to see me squirm. That made sense.

True to her word, Bell Boot came out with Lost in tow right after. L.A. looked better, aside from the splint holding her broken leg together. The puff-thing did a number on her coat, hiding the bruising so well I could have sworn she’d been healed by Bonemeal. Her eye still sat half-closed, not yet completely healed, but apparently well enough to not have the patch over it anymore. 

She trotted and stood in place. She looked around a bit, until she saw me. The terror in her eyes must have mirrored my own. Without staring, she looked at the crowd and then to Hard Sell. She said nothing, and held as still as stone.

“Oh, wonderful... Today, fillies and gentlecolts! We have a special piece of property to sell!” yelled Hard Sell loud enough that his voice echoed back from behind me. “This pony here goes by the name of Lost Art, and she is one of our newest, most promising future glue bags! I expect to get good bids from the lot of you. Shall we start off at say, five hundred caps?” He smiled wide and tapped his cane across my sister’s muzzle a few times.

Nopony said a thing, whether because the price was too high or something was wrong about her as a ‘product.’ 

“I understand!” shouted Hard Sell. “This is a steep price for a product in such bad condition. I promise you, she is well worth it.” He turned to my sister and cracked the cane across her back. “Turn.”

She bit back a yelp and did as she was told. The stallion began to show her off. I squirmed in my seat as he poked and prodded her with the cane, giving off tidbits of info he seemed to know about her. She squirmed just as much, holding her tail down between her legs.

“Now look, the broken leg will be repaired free of charge if you purchase her today. I give you my personal guarantee!” he announced, swatting the splint with his cane. “This pony is prime though, just look. She is a hunter of treasure in the Wasteland, perfect for scavenging supplies.” He tapped her cutie mark, “She comes with a free PipBuck, since they don’t come off.” He tapped the PipBuck as well. 

One pony made a bid.

Lost shivered with each tap, shifting her weight to move further and further away. Her white coat slowly turned red from embarrassment as he worked her over.

“And the bonus, because I know very well,” he stopped and pointed the cane into the crowd, “Yes! Yes. I know, exactly what you want!” His telekinesis flared and he grabbed Lost’s tail. With a swift jerk, he lifted it up and pulled her directly into the front of the stage.

No!

“Not many of our products are left intact!” he announced with a wicked grin. Lost’s entire coat went bright red and she slammed her hind legs together. “Oh look at how eager she is!” More bids went off as several ponies tried to buy her.

I shook in my seat, jaw practically on the floor. How could he! Luna. Celestia. Smite him this instant! I begged the Goddesses. This was a step too far! Yes, this was the straw that finally broke the back. These ponies wouldn’t die fast, they would all die slow painful, bloody deaths. Preferably by their own collars.

Hard Sell stopped working the crowd with my sister and instead started to encourage the bidding war. Ponies hooves raised repeatedly, glares going back and forth between several of them as each tried to get her for just a few caps more. The price slowly rose, a few ponies dropping out as the caps crept higher.

“Ah, this is a good show. They like what they see,” Amble said, clapping her forehooves together a few times. She seemed positively giddy to watch my sister treated like a piece of meat.

I felt horrible, my heart ached and my stomach twisted itself into such a tight knot I could barely stand to not vomit. I didn’t dare let on to Amble that this was getting to me, I did my best to stay strong. I knew she could tell though, by the glint in her eye. Taking a deep breath, I looked back down.

Fewer ponies were bidding now, just three. Hard Sell did his best to keep the caps rising, and by now they were far higher than the initial price he’d set for her. His cane moved between the three bidders, as if he were taunting them. His grin and the tapping of his cane on the edge of the auction stage etched into my mind forever.

One of the ponies dropped out. The remaining two started with renewed fervor. I looked at the bidders, wanting to memorize for later just where my sister would be. I’d need to break out and rescue her... One sat out of sight, in the corner, worthless to me. The other. Oh Goddesses. The other was the Ashen Hooves ganger. I sank in my seat, fearing the worst... If they brought her back and Seethe recognized her.

I shook the thought from my mind.

The bidding dropped to little increases. 

A cap here, a cap there. My throat closed tighter with every bid, until I finally forgot to breathe.

The Ashen mare stared at the pony I couldn’t see, gritting her teeth as she bid. Hard Sell looked to be having the time of his life. Lost quivered and shook, her tail once again tucked between her legs to cover herself. Her coat was still red from embarrassment.

The green ringed hoof dropped. I finally found my breath.

“SOLD!” Hard Sell yelled, his magic tossing his cane into the air and catching it with a little twirl.

“Perfect,” Amble whispered. She turned and looked at me. “So, do ya understand what can happen?”

What can happen? What kind of a crazy mare was she! I couldn’t force my brain to think straight and even begin to wrap it around what just happened, and she wanted me to understand what could happen in the future?

“You just sold my sister!” I yelled.

“Yeah, I did and I bought her too,” she said, grabbing me by the collar again. “Next time ya see her up on that block, she’s off for good, ya hear? This time I paid ya a favor. Push yer luck again, and I won’t be so generous.”


*   *   *


“I’m runnin’ thin on patience, now,” said Amble. “One last chance.”

I sat in the same room under the same guards as nearly every day prior, alone except for the slaver. I nodded to her. I understood.

“Yes, of course,” I said, barely above a whisper.

“Consider ya options overnight.”

The door slammed shut, leaving me with nothing but dirt, brick, and the threat of death if I did something wrong. I stared at the door for several minutes, then laughed.

Options.

“Hahaha~” I laughed, falling over and kicking at the air with my hooves. “Options!” I laughed more, “Options she says!” I laughed hard, hard enough that I found it hard to breathe. Tears rolled down from my eyes as I coughed, sputtered, and finally collapsed in a heap.

Options.

What a load of shit. 

I pushed myself up and got comfy on the ground. Sitting here so many times I’d worn a little comfortable groove into the dirt. I looked down at the shackle on my leg again and compared it with the steel hoof. All because of a little PipBuck on a treasure hunt. Hunting treasure and chasing ghosts... I wasn’t a hero, and now I was just a slave. 

I slumped down a bit, and stared at the ground before me. Was this home now? I would be a good little slave and do whatever Amble wanted me to, kill for her, all for survival? Could I even call that surviving? I closed my eyes and hung my head.

What would Lost say?

“Behave, do what she says, we’ll get out,” she’d say. And then she’d give a weak smile and make me feel better. “I’ve got a plan,” she’d whisper. I’d believe her. Because Lost was a smart pony and she was good at working out details. I just needed to hold out.

“Ya gonna lose everythin’ that way,” Amble would say. She’d be right. The longer I waited and pushed my limits, the more chances she had to hurt, sell, or kill Lost. I’d rather take my chances with Wirepony again, at least it went straight for my hooves and didn’t taunt me about it. Okay, it did taunt me, but that wasn’t the same. It went on instinct and hunger, it didn’t want me as a toy.

“You’re not a toy, you’re my sister,” L.A. would remind me. Patience, she had a plan. We’d get out and go home. I trusted her. She’d saved me so many times before, this wouldn’t be any different.

“And just how ya gonna get out?” Amble would ask. “I’ve got the keys to ya collar.” The collar. Just like the PipBuck, another piece of technology strapped to me that changed my life forever. This one just held the end of my life within its steel grip, ready to go off at any second if I did something wrong.

I wouldn’t do anything wrong. I would be a good slave. It was the right thing to do. Give in and let her win, then bargain to make sure my sister was safe.

“She’s not going to keep that promise, you know that right?” asked Lost. She gave a smile and raised her eyebrows, “You can’t trust her.”

“I know, sis. But you-”

“Trust me Hidden, I have a plan,” she assured me. She always had a plan. “Just another few days.”

“Ya gonna believe that?” Amble snapped. A wicked grin spread across her face. 

I shook my head. My mind was getting the better of me. The pen was empty, just me and my mind.

“That’s how we get ya,” whispered Amble. I felt her breath on my ear. A shiver ran down my spine.

“Stop it! You’re not real!” I yelled as loud as I could.

“Ya think so? I’m as real as the spikes in ya bones...” she whispered again. She was on the other side. I turned to look at her. 

Nothing but brick and dirt.

I let out a soft sigh and turned away from the wall, settling back into my groove. Well, at least my yelling kept the guards from looking at me. I couldn’t be asleep if I was having a breakdown and yelling at nothingness. I looked in front of me.

Right at mom.

“Little one, are you okay?” she asked.

“No mom. I’m fucked up something fierce right now,” I answered. “And you’re dead.” I stared at her, wanting so bad to reach out and hold her. She could comfort me now, if only she were really there.

“Hidden, I’m here for you, like I always was. Trust your family, Lost knows what’s best,” she said. She looked perfect, no bullet holes, no scars. Her ear was whole again, not a single rust-colored hair was out of place in her mane. Even her PipBuck was intact. She trotted over and sat next to me. “I know that the Wasteland is hard, it always was, and will be for a long time probably. You just need to know how to survive. I taught you everything I knew, even though you didn’t listen to the first rule.” She nudged me gently, and pulled me against her.

I leaned over and rested against her. I cried softly, whispering, “I miss you, mom...”

“I know love, but I’m here now. Tell me what happened,” she said in her most comforting mom-voice. She wrapped one of her legs around me and hugged me close. Just like when I was a little filly... “What’s been going on since I was gone?”

“We followed your rule... For years. We spoke to traders once and a while, just like you did. Stay hidden away, stay lost from society,” I explained. My voice wavered. I tried to keep it calm, because I wanted to look like a big strong mare for mom. That’s what she wanted me to become. “There was a rumor... Dragons, treasure. I couldn’t help it. I dragged Lost off to a cave, and-”

“And what hun?” she asked, running her hoof through my mane. She traced her hooftip along the stripe that ran through it. I smiled up at her, feeling like I’d just gotten my cutie mark.

“Lost got shot.”

Her eyes widened and she stared at me. “Is she okay!?” she demanded.

“Yes, she told me what to do and I fixed her up... We found a PipBuck, like yours,” I said, tapping my steel hoof against the device. “Then things went to shi-” I realized I really shouldn’t swear in front of my mom. “Things were bad. We killed some ponies and zebras, and met some raiders. And then there was this wire monster. He ate my hoof...”

“Oh Goddesses, Hidden, what have you gotten into?” she asked. She cried, grabbing my steel hoof and holding it to her chest with both forehooves. “I never should have left the Stable.” She grabbed me and held me close, and it was all I could do to keep from breaking down completely.

“We’re okay mom, aside from being slaves,” I said, trying to sound like I had everything under control. “My hoof is fine, we made friends with Steel Rangers! A Knight, Praline, a friend. She fixed it for me. It’s better now, stronger. Like you wanted, we got stronger. We can survive.”

She looked down at me, and I felt like a filly again. But I survived. We both survived.

I didn’t tell her about the spikes in my shackles. The blood dried had flaked off days ago, so they just looked like normal hoofcuffs. I didn’t need her worrying any more than she was already. I wanted her to be happy, to be proud.

Pursing her lips, mom nodded. “Friends,” she whispered, distantly. She squeezed me in her hooves, frowning ever so slightly. “I’m proud you’ve made it this far.”

“Lost has a plan.”

“A plan that ain’t shit. She ain’t slept in days and ya talkin’ to yer dead mother,” snapped Amble at me from behind. 

I spun around.

She sat there, right next to me, staring directly at me. I turned and looked back at the door. She’d never walked- Where was mom?

“Look, ya gonna be a good little bodyguard for me. I got faith in ya. Just admit it’s what ya want and we’ll be done here,” she said, raising a hoof in truce. “Know ya place, Miss Fortune. Know it and accept it. Yer gonna be happy once we put this unpleasantness behind us.”

“But-”

“No buts. Ya got three ways outta this,” she said, and hit me in the head with her hoof. 

“Gettin’ sold.” Crack.

“Submittin’.” Crack.

“Dyin’.” CRACK!

I fell onto my side hard, splayed out in the dirt. I stared up at the sky and watched it change colors. The clouds swirled past glowing bright as Celestia’s sun broke past the cloud cover and shined on their undersides. I used to think it was beautiful, but now it was just the ceiling to the cage. A sky that sat above me and held me down. I laughed a little, what did I think I was, a pegasus? 

The clouds grew darker as the sun passed behind the mountains. Tomorrow was the final day, where I made or broke everything. Lost’s safety, and my own, hung in my hooves. I held them up and stared past. Could I do it? Could I really admit that she knew what was best and admit that she owned me?

She seemed to know when I was lying.

I wanted to be a good pony, and keep everypony safe. I wanted my sister to live without fear of being sold, because I was terrified of her leaving me... If only I had the PipBuck, I’d have called Praline and got the Steel Rangers to rain fire down upon this town and reduce the whole of it to cinders. But I didn’t, I was on my own and I had to be strong enough to save the pony who meant the most to me in all the Wasteland all by myself.

I was a good sister. I was a good pony. I was a good slave.

“Are you gonna lay there all night? Get up, we need to talk,” said Lost. She looked down on me from between my hooves.

I poked her horn with my steel hoof, making her giggle.

“Up!” she said, and lifted me with her magic. It felt good, to have that familiar blue haze around me. She sat me down across from her and gave me a hug. “Feeling any better?” she asked with a smile.

“I guess, no,” I answered. I wasn’t sure. I felt better because I knew what I had to do, but I felt worse knowing the only answer. I needed to be a good little slave and acknowledge that she knew best. Because she held every single card in the deck. She could keep me safe and employed, with a room and food. She could keep my sister safe.

“As long as I do everything she says, to the letter, we can survive and buy time,” I told my sister. “Time to plan, food and sleep.”

“I have a plan Hidden, don’t give in just yet,” she said. She gave me a tight hug, and I curled against her. She wasn’t as good as mom, but then, nopony would ever be. But she was my sister, and I knew she knew best. She knew better than Amble, even if Amble held everything in her hooves.

“One more day?” I asked, giving her the most hopeful look I could muster.

“Just hold out one more day,” she said, squeezing me tight.

“I can do one more day...” 

I could do one more day. A good slave obeys, and my sister was giving me an order. I could treat it like that, and it would be easy to follow. 

“One more day’s more time than ya got,” snapped Amble, shoving my sister away. Lost vanished into the ether. “Ya take orders from me, and that’s all ya do. Ya understand?” she snapped. She sat across from me and stared into my eyes. “Ya got one, more, chance. Prove yerself, or I’ll kill the bitch myself.”

“Yes, Mistress!” I snapped, horrified.

“Good, see, was that so hard?” she asked. Her smile returned and she passed me a snack cake. I don’t know where she got it from. “Eat, my pet. Big day tomorrow...”

“What happens tomorrow?” I asked, taking the snack and eating it in a single bite. I didn’t really care where she’d gotten it. 

“Tomorrow ya prove yerself. Tomorrow ya get yer sister back,” she cooed.

“Yes, of course,” I agreed. Tomorrow the torture ended. Tomorrow I became a murderer. Tomorrow I became a tool for her.

Tomorrow I got my sister back.

“Because you know best,” I whispered.

“And don’t ya forget it,” she whispered.

I sat alone in the room, surrounded by four brick walls. I sat in the dirt in my little groove. The sky was pitch black and freezing. Rain fell from the sky and turned my dirt to mud. When did it start raining? That didn’t matter. I wanted the sun to come up.

I needed to talk to Amble.

I needed to prove myself.

For my sister, I could admit Amble was in charge. I could admit she knew better. Because Amble knew how I could get my sister back. 

“You win,” I whispered to the sky, to the rain and the clouds.

“You know best.”


*   *   *


Dawn of my final day. I considered my options. Do what Amble said and admit that she knew just what I should do to get what I wanted, or push my luck and end up banished to the moon like the legends about Princess Luna.

“How long do I have?” I asked the guard. I hoped the same guard as before would come to collect me, but Xeno’s luck decided to fail me. Not that I was surprised anymore.

The guard didn’t answer. He led me back to the pen with the rest of the earth ponies and ordered me inside. More time to sit and wait, sit and think about the ‘choice’ I got to make whenever Amble came to collect me. I prayed to the Goddesses it would be soon. I couldn’t sit through another episode like last night.

“I miss you, mom,” I whispered to nopony in particular. I swore I could still feel the softness of her coat and the warmth of her breath. If I failed, and Lost and I both died, would we get to see her again? Maybe that was a better ending to this whole situation.

Servitude to a psychopath, or a reunion with the two ponies the Wasteland took from me. I knew which I would-

“... okay?” asked Sourbelle. She placed her hoof on my shoulder and shook me just a little. 

“What?” I asked. I looked at her and tried to smile. My lips wouldn’t pull the right way, so I just stared. “Sour?”

“Yeah...” she said, taking a step back.

“How have you survived so long?” I asked her, “You’ve been here longer than me, and you haven’t cracked. How?” I pointed a hoof at her, not completely accusingly, but more than a bit suspicious.

She sat next to me and looked at the ponies in the pen. The unity mares huddled together like they always did. One disappeared days ago, but the other three managed to stay strong. They spoke in hushed voices and looked around frantically. Maybe today was their last day too?

“I don’t know, to be honest,” she answered. “I don’t have anypony or anything for her to use against me. She hasn’t done much in terms of physical torture either. Everything...” she trailed off and looked at me. Her lip twitched and she bit down on it. “Everything slacked when you showed up.”

“Wha...” I asked, trying to piece it together. My brain didn’t respond. I hit myself in the head with my flesh forehoof to try and jumpstart, but I couldn’t piece together what she meant.

“She hasn’t been anywhere near as diligent on the rest of us since you showed up. It’s like every ounce of her will she’s put into breaking you,” she explained. Her voice faltered and she stared back at the unity mares. Those poor ponies.

“Well, that explains a lot. She’s good at her job...” I said, whispering the last part. I felt myself start to shake, even though I didn’t move from my spot. 

“What? No! No, don’t give in!” Sourbelle yelled, grabbing me by the shoulders. She stared me right in the eyes, and I stared back. Did she always have freckles? “Don’t let her get in your head! You can get out of this.”

“How?” I asked. What did she know? “Unless you know some secret to escape, then there’s no choice. And you won’t know unless you’re not really a slave,” I said, grabbing her.

I slammed her down hard. “Are you?” I screamed. I put my hoof to her throat and pressed down. “You’ve been here a long time, and you’re still not broken.” I ground steel into her flesh and twisted. “What are you?”

She didn’t have time to answer before a guard pulled me off her. She cracked the whip across my back and neck and dragged me from the pen. Sourbelle didn’t get up, she just laid there on the ground, breathing heavily, and stared at me with an incredibly hurt look in her eyes.

“I’m your friend!” she yelled as the guard dragged me away. 

Friend... That’s right. She’d been there when Lost couldn’t. She helped me when I needed it, listened and kept my spirits up. How dare I attack her, accuse her, like that.

“Caught you just in time, vermin,” she snapped. The whip fell across my back one more time. “Might as well start now.” She kept dragging me down the streets. We passed another guard and she barked an order, “Tell Amble. She’s ready.”

I didn’t struggle. I let her drag me down the broken streets, past the ruined buildings. I saw the other pens and the ponies inside. I saw Lead Line and Cherry Pick organizing a new group they’d brought in overnight. The place went like clockwork, and today was just my day to go off. At least I’d get my sister back when Amble knew I accepted that I belonged to her. 

My collar felt heavier today. 

The guard dragged me straight into Hard Sell’s little arena building and past whatever lobbies and rooms they had set up to make ponies wait and suffer. She threw me through the doorway and into the mane floor. I rolled to a stop and pushed myself up, now used to being treated so poorly.

Hard Sell stood at the far side of the room, a smile across his face. “Perfect timing my dear! Amble will be along in just a few minutes. Come, sit, relax,” he said, patting the floor next to him. Just a few more minutes until my fate was sealed. I could enjoy a relaxing sit until then.

I did as I was told and sat next to him. He patted me on the head with a hoof. I didn’t need praise for my timing, I didn’t get to choose when I showed up or left anyway, it was always up to Amble and her slavers.

Amble walked in with a similar smile. Her pink and purple mane was styled up and back today, and her hooves still sparkled from Bell Boot’s hooficure. She trotted up and stood right before me. Her smile disappeared and she cradled my jaw with a hoof. She pushed it up enough that I had to stare her in the eye.

“Well, this is yer big day. I hope ya make me proud,” she said solemnly. “Last chance,” she reminded me.

“Yes, Mistress. I’m ready,” I answered. I stood and trotted to the same place I’d stood twice before. I looked down at the floor. I didn’t want to know the pony I was about to kill. It would be better if I just did it on orders and didn’t feel anything. Listening to pleas for mercy or arguments about how strong I was would only hurt my resolve.

“When the pony walks in. Kill. Don’t think,” I repeated to myself, over and over under my breath so the slavers couldn’t hear.

“Open it!” ordered Hard Sell. The sound of hooffalls on the floor and the creak of a door meant his order was followed.

I stared at the rotting floorboards. Don’t think about the pony. Don’t think. Just do. Do as your ordered.

The hooffalls fell silent. I closed my eyes and skewed my ears toward Amble.

“Kill her.”

I hit the pony hard with my steel hoof. I heard the thud, and opened my eyes. A cyan coat. At least it wasn’t Lost. I hit her again, aiming for the head. I didn’t stop. The pony screamed for help. The sound of her skull cracking filled the air, almost louder than the screams.

I didn’t think about it.

Hooves flailed in vain. I stepped on one with my other hoof and kept my attack up. The floor creaked under my stomps. The cracking got louder. The voice stopped crying for me to stop. She was dying. I did as I was told. Stomp. Crack. Stomp. Crack. Blood ran along the floor. My hoof was covered in blood as well. I kept going. 

I kicked her hard in the throat. Her struggling stopped. I turned and bucked a few times, slamming her head with my rear hooves. I didn’t think about it. I just did it. I looked at Amble. She smiled wide, nudging Hard Sell and pointing at me.

She was happy with me. I did as she asked. She broke me.

I smashed down one last time. The body shuddered. A metallic thud sounded against the floorboards. A single hoofcuff bounced.

I looked back at Amble, then down at the pony she made me kill.

No...

I looked over at Amble again. “How could you!” I screamed, and fell to my haunches. At... At least it wasn’t Lost. I threw up, mixing the blood with whatever still sat in my stomach. I couldn’t...

“Easily. Tell me, Miss Fortune. Who’s the one in charge?” she asked.

“You are, Mistress,” I answered, not thinking about it. I didn’t make another outburst. I didn’t want her to know how bad that was. I didn’t want her to see me as weak, or unworthy of her time. If she didn’t think I was hers entirely, I might not see Lost. I had to play the game, and I believed every bit of it. “You know best. I do as you say, because I cannot be trusted with making decisions,” I explained. Just like she’d told me.

“Because I’m a murderer, a tool for you.”

“Good, ya finally get it,” she announced and trotted over. “Come. Let’s go make preparations for this afternoon. I have big plans...” She walked past me, and I got up to follow. I couldn’t help it. I took one last look.

Goodbye.

Sourbelle.

I’m sorry I didn’t trust you. It hurt more that the last thing I’d ever said to her was accusing her of being something she wasn’t. It hurt that Amble got so deep into my mind, into my soul, that I couldn’t trust a pony who’d been nothing but nice to me.

I’m sorry. But, it was for my sister...

She’d understand, right? 

Goddesses, please save me from what I’ve become.


*   *   *


Time dulled the hurt. I didn’t feel much of anything. I sat in Amb- Mistress’ office and stared into space. I wasn’t listening to her. She hadn’t called for me, so there wasn’t a reason to pay attention to her words. I just sat and didn’t think. I waited until I was called for. Waited to do as I was told. It was simple. I don’t know why I’d fought it so hard, if all I had to do was take orders and do whatever Mistress said, and I got to see Lost... I chuckled to myself, quietly so she wouldn’t be interrupted.

It was so easy.

I heard bits and pieces, ‘collar,’ ‘sister,’ ‘kill,’ ‘proud.’ Proud stuck out the most. Either she was proud of me or she thought I should be proud of myself. I didn’t care. I didn’t want to think about it. She needed to give an order so I could do something. I didn’t want to make a decision on my own.

Because I was a murderer.

Decisions meant that I chose whether ponies died. Sourbelle would be the last pony to shed blood on my hooves of my choice. I would listen to orders and be the best damned bodyguard she ever had, because that meant I could get to my sister.

Lost would understand, right?

She slammed her hooves down on her desk and glared at the steel colored mare that stood on the other side of her office's half wall. She yelled, “Dammit Hoof I wanted this shit done t’night! Ya have any idea how long I been pushin’ for this one to break?”

Hoof Pick, I thought that was Cherry Pick’s sister? She shrunk back and shook her head several times. “Don’t know what ya expect of me! Cherry and I have been pulling double-time because you’ve been so wrapped up in this special case of yours,” she said, pointing an accusing hoof at me. “Err, not that there’s a problem! It just means our work gets scattered a bit. Tomorrow morning, first thing. Promise.” She raised a hoof and held it across her heart, made a little cross and stuck it into her eye.

I didn’t matter exactly what she was saying, I’d already missed too much of the conversation. My eyes just trailed to the floor and I went back to staring off at nothingness in the distance. Tomorrow something happened. Too bad what happened didn’t matter, I’d still have the collar on and still be a murderer.

“Will I get to see my sister?” I interrupted. I knew it was a bad idea, but I didn’t really think before I said it. That was how I always acted though, never a thinky pony, always a pony who acted then worried. Mistress was right. I wasn’t to be trusted with making decisions, I just proved it with a perfect example. I spoke out of turn without thinking, because I never thought.

I waited for my punishment.

Both slavers turned and stared at me. A dark purple set of eyes held relief mixed with rage. A lighter purple set, Mistress’, sparkled with amusement. I broke eye contact and stared at the floor.

“Well, a promise is a promise,” Amble admitted reluctantly. “And considerin’ the problems this one-” she shot Hoof Pick a glare, “-has caused, I suppose ya can tonight instead of tomorrow.” She smiled and stood up. “Come, we’ll go move her with ya.” She motioned for me to follow, and I did. She stopped short though, and stared at Hoof Pick. “Get it fixed, or I put a collar on yer sister. The tricks I used on her can work on ya.” She jabbed the mare roughly and walked past. “I’ll make ‘em work if I gotta.”

The two of us walked from her office past a shivering Hoof Pick, and out into the afternoon light. Amble stepped lightly, nearly prancing as she walked. Apparently she was very happy with her success in breaking my will to think, or act, or survive, or... anything really. I followed with my head hung low, the collar feeling particularly heavy now. Even the spikes in my bones felt worse than just a few hours ago, and I was in agony with every step. 

I ignored it as best I could. Every step brought me closer to a much-needed reunion with Lost Art. Tomorrow I could worry about assignments or chores or whatever the slaver had planned for me. Tonight I just wanted to relax, curl up in my sister’s hooves, and pass out without thinking about anything that happened in the previous week. 

I didn’t ever want to think again. I couldn’t really, that was beaten out of me already. Did Lost’s plan still matter? If we were together, and had a place to live and work and she was safe...

She threw me into the solitary again, I found my groove and sat. She smiled at me and said, “Ya did good, my pet. Tomorrow’s ya big day.” Tomorrow being a big day terrified me. Whatever she had planned couldn’t be good. I’d need to to do the best job I could, though. I needed to do the job that allowed me to stay with my sister.

The door closed and I sat with nothing but my thoughts.

“Mom... Are you proud of me too?” I asked nopony in particular. “I got stronger, in the worst way. I did what I had to, to protect my sister. Does it still count?” I waited, hoping she’d appear again. Even if she wasn’t really my mom, just the sight of her would make it a little bit better. Just something to tide me over until Lost showed up.

I stared into space, praying to the Goddesses and to my mother for I don’t know how long. Some other pony must have needed a lot more help than me... Maybe the hero they mentioned on the radio needed help right now? 

I missed the radio a lot.

What an odd thing to find important right now... I looked up at the sky. The sun was sinking low, casting long shadows across the clouds and lighting up just a sliver of the walls holding me in. Another night alone... Even though Amble promised.

She did promise didn’t she?

I got a prize for doing what she wanted... Or was the prize not being punished? 

Knock. Knock. Knock.

The door rattled on its hinges and creaked open slowly. I looked over and watched as the black guard who had collected Lost after her beating walked in. A helmet matted down her mane, pushing it over one eye, and she wore a massive silenced rifle on her back, she just smiled at me. I looked back at the floor. Another pony come to tell me that my sister wasn’t coming to see me? She stepped to the side.

Lost walked in.

She looked damn-near perfect. Splint gone, eyepatch missing, her coat actually clean, and the chip in her horn barely noticeable. She looked amazing. A big smile spread across her lips, she ran over, and grabbed me in the biggest hug I could ever remember feeling. She held me for a long while, but it took nearly a minute before my brain caught on and I hugged her back.

Affection seemed so distant.

“Lost they-”

“Not now, we have to get out. Tonight,” she said, looking up at the towers.

“But the guard...” I whispered, pointing at the rifle-carrying-slaver.

"Xeno," Lost said, gesturing to the waiting guard. 

The guard took off her hat and shook her head a few times. Her mane popped up into a grey and white mohawk, and she smiled at me. “Silly pony, you didnot think I would come?” she asked, her accent nowhere near as thick as I remembered. She rubbed a hoof against her cheek, brushing black powder away to reveal her light grey stripes. “It is very interesting what you can do with a good lie and some luck.”

“But I...” I stuttered. It was her! I knew it! Why hadn’t I just trusted myself? Because I didn’t believe it could be true? I didn’t trust myself, not after everything Amble had said. I let go of Lost, and trotted over to the zebra. I raised my hooves to hug her-

-only to find the sniper rifle pressed against my chin.

“Sit. There are guards watching,” she said, looking up with just her eyes. She shifted her haunches and put the helmet back on, pushing her mohawk back down, and brushed it to cover where she’d wiped the black cover off. “I wondered how long until you pretended... She is a very bad pony. Playing along with her game is best.”

I did as she ordered. Pretended. Right...

“I will be waiting. We have not much time,” Xeno explained with a frown. She stepped out the door and closed it behind her. A loud click echoed as she locked us back in.

“But, Lost-”

She pressed a hoof to my mouth, and I wretched a little. Tasted the same as when this whole ordeal started. I coughed and scraped my tongue a little. “Shh, sis. Like you say, listen now, worry later.” She sat and pulled me close. “Amble came in, ordered me out. Said we get a night together.”

“I- I did what she said,” I admitted, tears forming in the corners of my eyes. “She got me...” I tried to tell her what happened, only to be stopped with her hoof against my mouth again.

"Hidden, I promise we can talk later, but right now..." she said. She gave me a look, then looked up at the guards. “Xeno’s dealing with the guards now, we need to move.”

I nodded a few times. Listen, take orders. 

“Remember I told you I had a plan? Well, I need you to do exactly as I say, and we can get out, okay?” she asked. The look in her eyes... I wanted to trust her. She was my sister, she had a plan. She always managed to get me out of trouble. Saving me was practically her special talent!

“I can’t... I...” I said, shaking my head. I pointed at the bomb collar and held up my shackled forehoof to her. “We can’t leave. If we stay I can keep us safe! We have a home and a-”

“Shut it.”

I silenced myself.

“This is not safe, Hidden. This was never safe. Any moment she could tell you to do something you can't do, and then she'll sell or kill me,” she said, a hurt look crossing her eyes. She took her glasses off and stared at me. “I can get us out, trust me.”

I wanted to... But if all of this was in my head, then it would crumble the minute we tried something. I didn’t know what was the truth anymore. She kept telling me she had a plan, though. I should.

“Please?” 

I nodded. “Just tell me what to do,” I whispered. I could take orders.

“Hrk!” yelled a voice from above. Thud. Thud.

I looked up at the guards. One stood the same as always, looking out over the wall through the scope of her rifle. The other I couldn’t see. Probably out of sight guarding something. I looked back at Lost. A smile crept across her lips again and she moved toward the door.

“C’mon, we don’t have a lot of time,” she said. 

The door creaked open and Xeno poked her head in. “Sisters, we must go. They willnot be still forever,” she said, looking at me with one deep blue eye from underneath the slaver cap. A little wisp of smoke trailed from the barrel of her rifle, just barely enough to see.

Lost walked past her and looked side to side. Both motioned for me to follow.

I stepped forward.

I tried to step forward.

My legs didn’t listen. Amble would catch us. The punishment would be terrible. I didn’t want to test that mare. I knew just how far she could push things. The collar... The shackles... She’d just let my sister die, Xeno would be taken as an exotic pet, I’d be forced to kill-

I shuddered. Not even Amble was that cruel.

“Hidden, come on!” snapped Lost. She sounded urgent, almost ordering me. 

I tried. Amble’s hold ran deep. Every time I moved my hooves, they just shook in the air and fell back where they’d been. My breathing came ragged and I looked up at the guards. The minute she found out.

“Great misfortune will come to us if you donot come quickly,” said Xeno, looking up at the guards as well. 

I finally walked forward like she ordered. I followed the two of them into the street as they rounded a corner and ducked into an alleyway. Xeno exchanged nods with my sister and then left us. As she trotted back around the corner to the mane street, a cigarette found its way to her mouth and left a trail of smoke behind her as she walked.

“Lost,” I whispered, stepping closer to her, “what is the plan?” I looked back behind us, terrified one of the guards would find us. If Slipstock managed to catch me trying to escape, there wasn’t any way I would survive.

“We need to get the remote. Amble keeps it on her, so we’re going to distract her,” she answered, tapping her hoof slowly. She didn’t look at me, but instead stared at the rotten and rusted roofs all around us. “We’ll steal it while she’s busy, then have Xeno walk us out. We say she’s following Amble’s orders.”

I whispered, “What about-”

“Hidden. Drop the act. I know you’re stronger than this, we can get out,” Lost snapped. She looked at me hard, but her expression softened. “We’ll get through this. We’re going straight home. Follow me.” She darted across the road and to an alley across the way, behind another nearly destroyed brick building and into the darkness.

I did as she told me to, and followed across to the other alley. Somewhere in the compound, shouts rose as foul, choking smoke wafted across the street.

An explosion shook the ground beneath my hooves, sending shocks of pain up my legs from the spikes. I closed my eyes and tumbled forward the last few hooves into the alley. Scrambling back up onto my hooves, I looked out past the corner of the building into the street.

Down several blocks a fire blazed where once sat a pile of wooden ruins from some long forgotten building. Another explosion tore through the air and startled me enough to send me onto my haunches. Hooves reached out and pulled me back into the shadows of the alley. They held me tight and spun me around. I looked up, and my sister nodded for me to follow.

We scrambled through the alleyways, staying out of sight from the mane roads. Every step Lost took seemed to have a purpose, and I just followed as best I could. I stopped when she stopped and I ran when she ran. 

The entire town went crazy. The sound of our hooffalls in the alleyways were drowned out by the slavers and guards running from place to place, as they grabbed tools and water in buckets and magic to fight the fires. 

“Pretties!” called a voice, “I know what you’re doing. It won’t work!” The guard with the blinding light, she was the one who called us pretties. I shuddered, remembering the hollow white eyes that seemed to see everything. If she found us in the alleyways, we’d be proper fucked. Amble had already proven that she could do terrible things, and I didn’t need to see another example.

Lost didn’t falter. She stopped when she heard the voice and set her raised hoof down slowly. Her ears flicked and she leaned against the wall. I did the same, following her lead. 

The grungy grey mare ran past on the mane road, her sunglasses covering her eyes. She glanced down the far alley as she ran. “You!” she yelled at somepony, “Check every building. Check every alley.” She spoke like a mare on a mission, and I hoped she was the worst we’d have to deal with. 

“Ma’am!” yelled a guardpony. She galloped off, calling for others.

We moved forward to the edge of the alley, crouched low to stay out of sight, and peeked around the corner. I wanted to go back to the solitary pen and wait this out, be a good slave. But I had to be a good sister, because Lost needed me. If she got caught, and I wasn’t there to take the brunt of the punishment, then she might be killed.

Or worse.

Xeno trotted up behind the white-eyed mare. “Flood Light. Reports of ponies, slaves, setting off the fire. I sug-” Another explosion interrupted Xeno, and both mares faltered as shrapnel flew through the street.

“Fuck ‘em. Flashbang’ll find any who try to escape. Patrol the roads, keep an eye on the alleys and sewers. Got it?” she asked, taking her glasses off with her magic and glaring at Xeno with her dead eyes. 

“Yes madam,” replied the disguised zebra with a salute.

Lost just grinned. “Perfect.”

“The fuck is goin’ on here!” screamed the Slave Mistress, loud enough that I swore her voice was magically enhanced. I couldn’t see where she was, and her voice was so loud that it could be coming from anywhere. “Ya! Get the unicorns to their pen. Ya! Earth ponies to pen three! Lock down the room or I’ll sell ya myself.”

“Shit, shit, shit,” whispered my sister. She crept out from the alleyway, hugging the side of the building I was behind, and ran to the next alleyway. I silently thanked the Goddesses that Flood Light was distracted by Xeno and the yelling.

I wanted to follow. I tried. Xeno looked over and raised an eyebrow. I knew she meant for me to go while Flood Light was distracted. I swallowed hard. I ran. My side dragged against the wall. I cut it too close. I needed to get out of sight. Before Flood Light or Mistress saw me. 

Flood Light’s horn lit up and cast a long shadow from me across the wall of the building. Her hooves shifted, clopping hard on the shattered pavement. She saw me. I knew it. We were dead. Punishments would follow. They’d be terrible.

“Madam,” said Xeno, clearing her throat.

The hooffalls stopped, and the light disappeared.

“Speak,” the grungy guardpony ordered.

Xeno spoke when ordered. I got around the corner and into the ruins of the next building, through it rather than past it. I didn’t hear whatever she said to distract Flood Light.

My tail hung low behind me, my hooves felt heavy. The shackles must have been heavier than I’d thought. I looked at my sister as she motioned for me to follow. We climbed a collapsed ceiling into a room full of skeletons from the War. I hoped for better luck surviving than they’d had. We ran through the room, out into a hallway. Down the hall, past a bathroom still spewing out irradiated water from a broken pipe, two centuries after plumbing should have stopped working.

Lost pushed aside a dresser, and looked through the broken wall, down at the street. Ponies ran back and forth below us. Whips and batons were out in force. Unicorns carried buckets full of water. Some carried the water in giant wobbling spheres in their magic. 

I laughed a little to myself. Cheater magic. I laughed at how little it mattered now.

Lost stepped outside onto the ledge, in plain sight of the ponies below. She trotted along the outside and onto the roof above. It creak loudly, but it held her weight just fine. 

Trotting in place for a moment, I forced myself to follow. I was stronger than this, dammit! I killed a fucking monster pony that ate my hoof! I ran circles around it, shot the fucker to pieces, and blew it back to Equestria. I could beat a simple earth pony who fucked with my mind!

I stepped out onto the ledge and ran to the roof. It hurt, every step, but I made myself. I had to. I had to listen to my sister. She’d lead me out. 

Mistress’ voice carried above the noise. “Get it out now! I swear, if a single one of ya fucks this up. I’ll murder the lot of ya!” she screamed. The fire spread behind us, taking over another building. Black smoke rose from the blaze, mixing with the dark clouds overhead. “Lock everything down! Flashbang, seal the exits!”

Lost jumped across to another building, and I followed. She didn’t say anything. We didn’t need words. She ducked through a shattered section of roof, and down into some family’s bedroom. I jumped down to the wooden floor below, landing hard enough to rattle the building.

The floor collapsed. The two of us fell into a heap, both yelping when we hit the ground. I looked over. She looked back. We covered our mouths with our hooves. As if the gesture would keep guards from hearing us.

No guards came. 

A light shone through the window. Flood Light’s horn. We dove. If she found us, we were through. I hid myself under the fallen bed. Lost ducked out of the room into the kitchen. The light passed slowly, almost catching me. I curled as tight as I could to keep out of sight. Let no light hit me. No shadow. I could be quiet and go without being seen.

For years we’d avoided ponies. It was just what we did.

The light passed. I breathed a sigh of relief. One more step done.

“Clear!” I called to Lost. I got up, bolted from the room. I tried to remember what mom taught us. How to stay out of sight of ponies.

Seeing her brought so much back. It hit me hard. I wanted to stop running. I wanted to submit. To sleep. To dream and remember. I had to get out. Mistress would catch me if I stayed. Out the back door, through a gap between two buildings where trash piled up and blocked the view from the street. More ponies yelled, slaves this time. They screamed in unison, demanding to know what was going on. We didn’t stop.

Just keep moving, I told myself. Save ourselves.

Through another alleyway. Down another broken cobblestone path to the mane street. Hide and wait. Guards ran by. They dragged slaves behind them, moving ponies from place to place to keep them away from the fire.

Caps meant more than the short term health. Ponies could be healed. Dead ponies didn’t turn a profit. Slipstock’s voice yelled through the commotion. I couldn’t tell what she was saying, but I recognized her voice. I ran faster. 

A guard stepped in front of us, at the edge of the alley.

Lost and I froze. The guard stared right at us. She said nothing. Looking away, she tilted her head and stepped off. 

“No ponies here. Itis clear!” she yelled, and ran off.

Lost ran across. I waited. We got closer to Mane Attractions, I recognized the ruins around us. The salon sat just down the street.

The fire spread to another building. That’s what the slavers were yelling. I didn’t stop to think about it. We didn’t have time. Just kept running. Past ruins. Across the road. Down an alley. Blocked. We turned and ran back, Lost didn’t look happy. Her plan wasn’t perfect? What had Xeno set on fire anyway? 

That bright light shined down the road again. I skid to a stop to avoid it. My steel hoof dug into the broken pavement, and I threw myself back hard. I hit some rubble with a crunch. Separated from Lost. I felt blood. Bad bad bad. A trail of blood would lead them to us. Just like the bloodwings. 

Flood Light ran past, gnashing her teeth loudly. A white stallion dressed in black followed her, with glasses sitting above his horn. Both guards with the same hollow eyes, just like the pony auctioned yesterday. Would Amble really sell these ponies’ brother? The stallion turned and looked right at me. 

I didn’t move an inch. Play dead, just like playing along.

He turned away and ran off. Was he actually blind, or faking it like Flood Light seemed to? Did it matter? I got up and followed, staying in out of their line of sight. The two of them running masked the sound of my steel hoof hitting the road. 

I needed to find Lost. She must be going for the detonator. Mistress kept it somewhere safe. The distraction had to work. I saw the salon and ran to it. I slammed into the door, hard enough that I heard a crack as my nose shattered against it. 

Falling back, I stared at the blood smear left where I hit. With my steel hoof, I cracked my nose back into place. It hurt, but I didn’t scream. Glass not shattering was new, but if it had survived two centuries and the destruction of the world, my head wasn’t nearly hard enough to break it. Lost peeked out from behind the half-wall where Mistress’ desk sat. 

How’d she known how to get in? I tapped the glass to let her know I was there. I’d been sitting in the road too long. This was bad. I couldn’t afford to be seen. This was too obvious. Raising a hoof, I tried to clean the blood away, but only made it worse. “Fuck!” I snapped, and slammed my forehead into the door. I looked back up.

I couldn’t see my sister.

“Hay!” yelled a stallion’s voice. “Let us out, too!” 

I turned and saw a pen across the way. Cluster, the pony who nearly killed my sister, yelled to me, his hoof through the fence of the pen. I shook my head.

Xeno trotted up next to me and grabbed me by the collar. “Got one!” she yelled, dragging me to the ground and standing on me. I prayed this was an act. She stomped on my head, and I crumpled. Two guards ran up and nodded to her.

“Good job, throw ‘er in the pit. Vice can deal with her later,” said the guard, a mare with a big scar across her face and up her horn. She pointed the direction we’d come in. “Fire’s getting worse. Toss her and help with that.”

“Right,” Xeno said and stomped on me again. The two other guards ran off, but only after kicking me in the side.

“Arg!” I yelled, curling from the attacks. 

“You arenot a smart pony today,” she said, taking her hoof off me. 

“I’m sorry... That slave,” I said, pointing. “That’s the one that hurt Lost.” I glared at him from the ground. That brilliant green eye, the empty socket. I’d never forget that raider. I wanted him dead. If Mistress had given me the order to kill him, I’d have been happy to.

“Hay! If she’s on our side, make her let us out!” Cluster yelled, sticking his head through the bars.

“So he is,” Xeno said. “I shall handle it.” She slid the rifle up off her back and stood on her hind legs. Bracing against the salon window, she fired a silent shot straight through Cluster’s good eye. The back of his head exploded in a shower of blood, bone, and brains that covered the ponies behind him. The few that weren’t already panicking began to scream.

He slumped down, one leg and what remained of his head still stuck through the bars. Blood dripped from his bottom jaw and the whole pen creaked under the weight.

“Revenge,” she said, tossing her gun back and dropping back to all four hooves. “We must hurry, Hiddenpony. To the office of Lead Line. We must get out.” She helped me up.

“I... I wanted to.” 

“We donot have time. The fires will only distract for so long. Go!” she ordered. Her tone wasn’t one I could argue against. I did what she said, and bolted past the pen to another alley. I prayed Lost would meet up with me. If it was her plan, she must know the next step. 

I wanted to know how she’d gotten into the salon, though. I’d ask later. Once we were safe. It didn’t matter right now. Getting out did.

“Whoever killed my fuckin’ guards. I will end you!” screamed Mistress Amble’s voice over the din of ponies moving around. 

I ran back behind another building. The distraction was good so far. The guards all focused on the fire and making sure that pens and rooms stayed locked. Xeno’s magic luck followed me so far. I just had to get down another few blocks to Lead Line’s office. Then we could sneak down the tunnel we came in. They’d lock the gates, but one mare who focused on books against three of us, we’d win. We’d escape.

“MISS FORTUNE! STOP. NOW!” she screamed. 

I froze in my tracks.

Whoever managed to make her voice carry so far and so loud was a unicorn I could respect, if only because the sheer volume scared the shit out of me. 

I stood still as stone, not even lowering my rear hoof back to the ground. I shook. I hated it. I didn’t want to stop. I couldn’t move. I saw Lost in the alley, staring past me at the remains of Cluster. I saw her smile, then wave her hoof to get me to follow. I stared, crying. I wanted to. I whispered, “Go. Forget me.” 

I remembered the detonator. What happened if we got too far? What about the two other ponies attached? What if the fire got them? Would that detonate the collars? Would all these slaves die just so the two of us could escape?

“Hidden. Now!” Lost yelled. She waved for me to run. I couldn’t.

The sound of hooffalls echoed down the street. Two lights reflected from different directions off buildings down different roads. They’d catch me. We were done for.

“Hidden!” Lost yelled again. I didn’t answer. Grimacing, she stomped her hooves a few times. 

“I can’t!” I yelled back, trying my hardest to make her understand. “She got to me, Sis... She won.” I started to cry. “She broke me, made me kill.”

“Hidden, she didn’t. You did what you had to to get out,” she said, taking a step forward. “We all do that, it’s fine. Now come on. We have to go.” She looked over her shoulder, out toward the street.

“I want to!” I said, my voice barely a whisper. “I can’t move my legs even when I try. I can’t disobey!”

Lost paused for a moment and screwed her eyes shut. Her hoof came up and tapped against her forehead. “Miss Fortune. March!” she yelled and pointed to the ground in front of her.

I ran as fast as I could to her and nearly bowled into her. She got out of the way in time, and I stopped before I hit her or the wall. I did it. I did what she said, and not what the Slave Mistress said. I could beat this!

The guards ran past, back toward the fires. They shouted something, lost to the sound of ponies battling the flames. I know they said my name, but I didn’t listen to it. I covered my ears and blocked it out. I didn’t need to lock up again.

Lost flashed the detonator. She held it close with her magic, her horn giving a spark every now and then where the chip was taken out. We ran through another alleyway, dodging the smoke that billowed out of the shattered windows. The fires took over more buildings, and we were running out of time. Either the flames and smoke would get us, or the guards would find us as they tried to follow the moving blaze.

We ran from the alleyway into an open road. No guards patrolled here, as they all worked to keep the fires at bay. We ran down the road, dodging cracks in the pavement and stopped right at the door to Lead Line’s office. Just another few minutes, and we’d be free.

Lost stopped me with a hoof, and looked in through the window. I peeked in through a corner as well. Lead Line crouched in front of the trap door that led out of her office and to the outside. Lost cracked open the door, and we both stepped in, me on three hooves to keep from making too much noise. 

Lead Line fumbled some chains in her magic, locking up the door. Shit, she was locking our only way out! I wanted to scream and charge her, but Lost stopped me by holding the detonator in front of my face. I grabbed it in a fetlock and looked over at her.

“Fucking slaves. An escape attempt like this’ll ruin us,” she grumbled to herself. “Profits will be shot for months with all this damage.” She slammed her hooves on the chains and pulled them together with her magic.

Lost’s horn began to glow again, sparking silent flashes of light every few seconds. She strained, clenching one eye shut. One of the folders from Lead Line’s desk lifted into the air, a faint, barely visible haze wrapped around it. Slowly, Lost closed the folder, all while gritting her teeth to force the magic. She took a few steps forward, nearly silent under the constant grumbling of the slaver. 

A lock lifted from the ground and wrapped around the chains.

“Drop it,” Lost snapped.

“Aw shit,” whispered the purple unicorn. She lifted her head and looked at us, not dropping the lock as Lost ordered. “Make me. It’ll cost you.” 

“Fine,” said my sister, her tone serious. The folder flashed through the air and cut across the mare’s neck.

Blood splattered through the air, onto L.A.’s face.

To the bitch’s credit, she didn’t even scream. She just smirked and slammed the lock closed around the chains, locking them in place. With the lock shut, she let it go and collapsed onto the floor with it. Blood poured from her neck, coating the chains and forming a puddle on the wooden floor.

“Good riddance,” said my sister, tossing the folder over her face. She looked relieved, but breathed heavily. It happened in an instant, and the mare was dead. My sister was a murderer just like I was, but this was for survival, not because we’d snuck into some pony’s home and waited.

I shook my head.

“Fuck!” my sister screamed, at the lock. She slammed her hooves down on it, and kicked it. “There’s no key. It’s a combination lock.” She flipped the lock over and looked at the back. “No combination here. It might be written somewhere. Help me find it!” She grabbed the folder in her magic again, grimaced, and flipped it open to search.

I grabbed the detonator with my mouth, held it there very very carefully, and started on the desk. None of the folders held anything that looked like a combination, so I tossed them to the floor and scrambled to find any numbers written or carved or anything on the top of the desk.

Lost screamed in frustration and ran over. Together the two of us tried every drawer to find anything we could that might help us get the lock off. Even a pair of cutters to snip the chains might help. We didn’t find anything, aside from detailed paperwork about how much profit could be made off each slave, as well as particulars about where they were captured and how their processing went. Part of me wanted to find my and my sister’s information, but we didn’t have time.

Xeno ran through the door and slammed it shut behind her. She didn’t have her helmet on, and the stripes on the side of her face were plainly visible. “We must go, ponies. Theyare getting closer,” she said, pulling the helmet from her back and pushing it back over her mane. “Down in the tun- Why is this pony dead?” She looked over at us.

“She’s a slaver; I killed her because she was in our way. But she locked us in,” L.A. explained, pointing to the chains and the lock.

“You didnot get the key from her first?” Xeno asked, her eyes wide in confusion.

“No, I didn’t see it was a combination lock. Not until afterward,” Lost said, walking around the desk and grabbing the slaver’s corpse. She turned her over twice, looking underneath her, then kicked the body one last time. “New plan. Take us out the front gate.”

Xeno and I both stared at Lost like she’d just asked us to go to the moon. 

“Are you kidding? There’s no way the gate’s still open! Is there even a gate?” I screamed, dropping the detonator to my forehoof. I slumped back onto my haunches in defeat. 

This was bad. This plan wasn’t going according to the plan. That made no sense! We couldn’t get out the way we came in. Were there even any other ways to get in? Why did I think we could even escape in the first place? Mistress was going to find me, and... I grabbed onto the collar and tugged at it. 

I didn’t want to go back. I couldn’t.

“They let ponies in for auctions, and they probably don’t want their secret passage to become common knowledge,” Lost said, matter-of-factly. “There has to be a front gate somewhere. Xeno? Any ideas?” 

“Yes, itis a short distance. This is quite the gamble, sisters. We donot know if my luck will change,” Xeno said with a somber look in her eyes. She was completely right. So far the escape attempt had gone well, and pushing our limits would most likely get us caught. 

Still, it was better than my plan, which was to give up.

“Let’s go then,” Lost said. She grabbed the detonator from my hoof and stuffed it into Xeno’s saddlebags. “You got our stuff, right?” she asked as she looked in the bag. 

“Yes, itis all safely hidden outside the walls. We must go now though. The slavers will be catching up to us soon,” Xeno said. She locked the saddlebag tight and motioned for us to leave the room. With a look back at the dead slaver, we all ran for the gate. 

With Xeno with us, we didn’t need to take the alleyways. Instead, every time a guard looked toward us, we’d slow to a strained trot and make it look as if Xeno were taking us back to a pen. Most of the ponies knew me as Mistress’ special project, and didn’t bother to question whatever special rules might be governing us. Xeno seemed to have snuck in and made herself one of them easily enough that nopony thought she might be a zebra in disguise.

Her luck really was legendary, considering her muzzle and eyes were distinctly zebra-shaped. We found our way to the gate without incident. No guards stood watch, all gone to help with the fire. 

I looked back at the town. The fires were slowly dying down, as the slavers put them out and worked to clean up the mess we’d created. Screams were getting quieter, and even the smoke was dissipating. It did its job though; now we just had to walk out.

The gate was closed, but not locked. Whoever closed it must have been in a hurry, to leave it without a single bolt or chain. But, considering the distraction, there might not have been time. Every other slave had been locked down, and we’d managed to hide in the shadows to keep from being noticed. Only Mistress knew I was missing, but with her shouting, every pony in the area must have quickly figured it out as well. But they hadn’t- I was thinking too much!

Xeno and I pushed the door open, and we ran through without shutting it. The goal was to get as far away from this miserable place, and deal with consequences of the past week later. Xeno said our things were taken care of, so we just needed to get out and go.

Sunbright’s voice cut through the air, and chilled my spine. “Leavin’ so soon?”

Together, the three of us stopped and spun around. The orange-yellow pony stood on her hind legs, braced up against the wall just beyond the door’s frame. In her magic hung a magical energy weapon that matched the hollow outline of her cutie mark. It floated idly by her head, not yet aimed at us.

“And here I thought what we had was special,” she said, staring right at Lost. “I taught ya so much, and this is how ya repay me? And ya?” She pointed the gun at Xeno. “Ya workin’ with them? Jeez, findin’ good help these days...” She dropped down onto all four hooves and trotted up next to us.

Lost’s horn lit up and a burst of blue energy passed right by the bodyguard’s face. When did Lost learn how to do that? 

Blinking several times at the near miss, Sunbright looked at my sister. “Really? Is that all ya got?” she asked, sounding bored. She looked the three of us over, and hoisted her gun. She pulled the trigger with her magic. The rifle sparked, but nothing came out. “Smarter than I thought,” she snapped, and threw the gun to the ground.

Lost just smirked, despite the sweat already forming on her face. Just what had they done to her magic?

With how much trouble I’d had beating Slipstock, with my guns, I shuddered to think how bad this was going to be.

“Okay, Amble wants ya both alive,” she said, and pointed at Xeno. “Yer dead though. Come with me, and we do this the easy way. I understand, nopony wants to be a slave.” She shrugged her shoulders and placed a hoof on her neck. “Collar’s too itchy.” She scratched where a collar would have sat. “C’mon now.”

Lost fired another blast of energy at her, brighter than the first. She grimaced as she did, clenching her eyes and focusing hard. The blast hit dirt, sending a spray of dust into the air. When it cleared, Sunbright was nowhere to be seen.

Had... had Lost just completely disintegrated her? 

Sunbright reappeared and bucked my sister in the side of the head, then went invisible again. Lost faltered, but caught herself. We both looked to where Sunbright had just been. What just happened? 

Cheater magic was lost on me most of the time, but I knew I’d seen Sunbright pull that disappearing trick before. She disappeared and reappeared the first time I saw her, so many days ago... so I ducked.

A hoof appeared above me, then faded just as fast. An invisible pony. Great. 

“Xeno! Go, wherever you hid it. We need our stuff,” Lost yelled.

“I have the only gun, pony,” Xeno started. “Would not I-”

Lost cut her off with a glare. “She can light ponies on-”

Before she could finish her sentence, an orange glow radiated from nowhere, and Xeno’s mane burst into flames. She looked much like Lost did when she’d ended up on the wrong end of Seethe’s flamer.

Somehow, through luck or skill, Xeno reacted faster than L.A. had, and managed to trip herself into a roll. She scrambled to her hooves, the fire snuffed, and bolted. Deep down, I prayed that our possessions were safe, and that L.A. knew exactly where to meet up. Lost was a smart pony, there had to be something planned. 

“One down,” said Sunbright’s voice from nowhere, taunting us. The orange glow of her horn appeared again, creating an eerie outline of her invisible face. The cracked ground around us started to ignite. Sparks flared up to full flames while the slaver laughed. 

I started to panic. Fire and I didn’t get along, at all. With her locking us in a small ring, we’d be taken back, and something terrible would happen to punish us for what we’d done. I couldn’t help notice, somewhere deep in my mind, that fire started our escape, and fire would end it. I looked back and forth, before racing toward the closing gap between the two edges of the fire.

“Hidden, stop,” Lost ordered. She didn’t look even a little scared of the flames. The terrified pony who’d skittered past locked furnaces seemed a distant memory. Just what had changed in the past week? 

I stopped in my place and stood still. We needed to flee now, before other guards could show up.

Sunbright appeared right in front of me and headbutted me, right in the face. She hit hard, and knocked me down. In my weakened state, an attack I could have easily shrugged off dropped me to my knees.

Lost shouted, and launched another of the blue magic blasts at her. It splashed across Sunbright, but did little more than singe her coat. Once more, the slaver vanished. Lost smiled though, which made me feel a whole lot better.

“Hidden. Be ready,” she said. Her eyes darted back and forth behind her glasses.

“But, I-” 

“No buts! Be ready to kill her,” Lost ordered.

Killing another pony. Orders. Could I do it? This wasn’t Mistress messing with my mind and trying to use me as a tool. This was surviving and escaping so I could be with my sister and my friend, and get as far away from this place as we physically could. I stomped my steel hoof, and nodded. I could do it. I just couldn’t think about it.

Sunbright’s hooves slammed right into my jaw and knocked me to the ground. I sprawled, hitting the packed dirt with a resounding thud. Then the unicorn vanished. I hated invisibility. I hated cheater magic. And I really hated Sunbright. Working my jaw back and forth, I coughed up some blood, then forced myself back up.

Lost said nothing. She just looked around. I did too, looking for anything that might give Sunbright’s position away. Lost and I stepped closer to one another, facing opposite directions. The fire moved as if it had a life of its own, and slowly the circle around the three of us shrank. From the corner of my eye, I watched her for a signal, ready to act as soon as I could.

If the slavers didn’t get us, the fire would.

Aside from the sounds and smoke from the fire, everything remained perfectly still. I ducked again, going on instinct that Sunbright would attack again, but nothing happened. Either she’d decided it was better to wait until our guard was down, or she had some sort of plan. 

Lost snapped her head to the side, and clenched her eyes shut tight. Her horn glowed, and another burst of energy shot from it. The bolt sailed through the air, but hit nothing, and kicked up a spray of dust as it hit the ground. Lost looked around more, searching for the slaver. Her eyes darted to the side, looking behind me. She grinned.

“Buck!” she ordered.

I kicked back with both legs as hard as I could without thinking. They connected with something, and a loud crack echoed against the walls of the slaver town. Sunbright dropped like a rock, hitting the ground with a thud.

She groaned, then vanished again. A splattering of blood coated my hooves and the ground below me.

“Got her,” said L.A. She spun around to face the same way as me, her eyes locked on the ground in front of us. “Hidden, shadow,” she ordered.

In an instant it made sense. I didn’t need to be told twice. A pinprick-sized shadow moved around on the ground, the only bit of darkness in the circle of flames. I charged and hit something invisible, but very solid. I dropped it to the ground, and stomped it. The pony flashed back into sight. I kicked her with all my strength, aiming for her horn. I smashed it again, sending a horrible crack through the base of the horn, and nearly snapping it off.

“She’s down,” I said, looking back at my sister.

L.A. nodded and motioned for me to follow, then bolted. 

I looked down at Sunbright, who lay there groaning. She couldn’t fight anymore, not with her horn cracked like that. If she was healed she might pose a threat, but right now, I could just leave. Lost said I needed to be ready to kill her. I could do that right now. It would be so easy. Just- just like I’d done to...

I stared at the groaning slaver. I didn’t feel like I shouldn’t kill her. I didn’t feel anything at all. I raised my steel hoof. 

We’d ended it fast, just like we’d needed to. Mistress Amble trusted Sunbright, and would expect our capture. There was plenty of time to flee. But should I kill her, and end this right now?

Time to prove Mistress right.

“Hidden, we have to go!” shouted Lost.

I turned away from the crippled slaver and left.

Orders were orders, after all.
_________________________________________________________________________________________
Footnote: Level Up!

Hidden Fortune:
New Perk: Bringer of Justice – A fire of revenge, brainwashing, and a general hatred for all things wrong in the Wasteland has given you a fervor to kill those destroying ponykind. You do extra damage against raiders, slaver, criminals, and other evil creatures.

Lost Art:
New Perk: Hobbler – Strategy usually demands keeping ponies alive to get answers, you learned that lesson the hard way. When aiming for the legs, you are more likely to hit.
Quest Perk: Offensive Spells – During your time in U Cig, you were taught how to defend yourself using only your magic. You can now cast the Arcane Blast offensive spell.

“So this mean we’re done with all this super grimdark bullshit?”
“Yes, apparently writing some of this really fucked with the author, even...”
“And one of the editors.”
“Not you again...”
“Look, let’s just go back to adventures and treasure hunting and doing good!”
“Things’ll get better from here on out, right?”
“I sure hope so... I sure hope so...”