//------------------------------// // Assembly - Chapter 8 // Story: The Dusk Guard Saga: Rise // by Viking ZX //------------------------------// Chapter 8 “You know, had I known we would be heading back to Ponyville so soon, I would’ve just stayed there.” Hunter leaned back in his seat, pulling his hat back down around his eyes as Steel did his best to ignore his comment. “I mean sure, now my stuff’s all up in Canterlot, but I feel kind of ridiculous bouncing back so quickly.” “You’ll get used to it,” Steel said from the seat next to him. “We’ll be doing a lot of rapid movement around the country in the future. Besides,” he said, looking out the window at the countryside that was speeding past. “We’re not stopping in Ponyville.” “Either way,” Hunter said, pulling his hat lower until the brim completely covered his face. He’d spent a total of one day in Canterlot, just one. Now he was leaving again, heading south on the rail line and eventually east towards Tall Tale City. At least he’d had that one day to take care of his last bit of paperwork with the Rangers and meet the Ponyville Shipping crew to stash his belongings. The barracks for the Dusk Guard hadn’t been ready yet—in fact it had been unlivable—so most of his belongings were sitting in a hastily assembled cloud shack nearby. Steel had mentioned that the Royal Sisters had said something about hiring a crew to fix up the barracks and turning them down because he hadn’t realized how decrepit it had been. So he’d spent his second night in Canterlot back in the same inn he’d stayed in the first time, glad that he could afford a cool room in the heat of the summer, and surprised that Steel hadn’t taken a look at the barracks before. As the train continued south, Hunter simply sat for a while, letting his thoughts run free. It felt good to be back on the move, as much as he had griped about having to show up after dawn to catch an early morning express to Tall Tale. Just like it felt good—no, right to have his hat back on his head. "It belongs there," Swift had said when she’d given it to him. And she’d been right, the hat had fit perfectly, and he’d never lost it, even during some of the more crazy adventures he’d been on. Again she’d been right, getting the enchantment put on it to keep it firmly attached to his head. “So are you going to nap the whole trip?” Steel asked. His voice sounded gruff, but there was enough lightness in it that Hunter could tell his question wasn’t too serious. “Maybe,” he said while leaving the rest of his body motionless. “It’s a little hard to get comfortable on these benches, and I think I’ve found the perfect position. A paradise of comfort undiscovered and thought by many impossible to find in economy coach.” “Looks a bit uncomfortable from here,” Steel said. “Especially with your hind legs hanging in the air like that.” “Hey, don’t mock the perfect position,” Hunter said, trying not to shift at Steel’s words. Now he could feel that one leg was asking to be moved a bit more to the left. He shifted it ever so slightly, only to have one wing pinch against the seat. He shifted to one side only to have his other wing pinch. Dang it! he thought, shifting his leg back and trying to mimic the same position he’d been in when he’d been so relaxed. For a moment, everything felt perfect. Then his left foreleg itched. Followed by his right wingfeathers. “Alright, alright!” he said, sitting up and dropping down on his front hooves, the brim of his hat still over his eyes. “What do you want me to do?” he asked, pulling his hat back and looking in Steel’s direction. “Just look over these files in a bit more detail,” Steel said. His saddlebags sat open on the bench next to him, the files once contained inside sitting spread on the bench or on the spare floor space in front of him. Hunter shrugged. “Alright, pass me the one on that pony we’re going to find now. Sabra. The zebra.” Steel obliged, passing the file over to him, and Hunter once again settled himself, this time in a more ordinary manner as to avoid undue stress on his neck. He took one last look out the window at the fading Canterlot scenery before digging into Sabra’s file. It would be another several hours before they reached the Smokey Mountain Ranger supply station, and since he was going to be awake, he might as well make the most of it. *        *        *   “They didn’t have to bring the train to a complete stop,” Hunter said as he turned small loops in the air over Steel’s head, clearly relishing at the chance to stretch his wings. “We could have just jumped off.” Steel snorted, his eyes briefly darting to the spinning brown equine. “Easy for you to say. You’ve got wings, Mr. Pegasus.” He turned away from the sight of the train as it was swallowed up in the bright greens of the Whitetail Woods, looking for the telltale trail that would lead the way to the local Ranger outpost. After a moment’s search he saw it, a simple dirt path that lead off through the trees in a twisting manner. He hopped off of the small wooden platform that served as the rail supply station for the outpost and started along the path. “They keep this path pretty clear,” he said as he walked along, Hunter choosing to stay airborne and beside him rather then dart ahead. Up ahead the path wound gently through the woods, wide enough that four ponies could have walked abreast, and trimmed so well that several pegasi could have flown alongside Hunter without worry. “Yeah, the Smokey Mountain Outpost is pretty well maintained,” Hunter said, ducking under a rare low hanging branch. “It’s the central station covering the majority of the Unicorn Range, so it's usually home to one or two squads with a couple more independent outposts around the area.” A cool breeze rustled through the forests broad leaves, creating a smooth rustling noise that permeated the air around them. “And it’s also pretty high up on the list of places most Rangers request.” “Why’s that?” Hunter smiled and spread his hooves. “Are you kidding? Look at this place? Whitetail Woods is a pretty awesome place to be assigned if you’re a Ranger. It's reasonably sedate, you’ve got mountains, forest, beaches … I had some good times here with my squad back in the day.” “Alright, fair enough,” Steel said, looking with renewed interest at the forest around them. It was lush and thick with leaves, but not thick enough that rich, warm sunlight couldn’t pass through to fall around them like golden beams. The trees weren’t tightly packed together like the Everfree either, there was plenty of space between them, even with bushes and other patches of greenery, enough that the path they were walking on really could have been easily made anywhere. In fact, Steel realized, the trail seemed to be winding back and forth not because it needed to, but simply to show off the view. “And there it is!” Hunter said, darting ahead with a quick burst of his wings. Steel looked a bit more closely at the trees ahead of him but couldn’t make out what the sharp-eyed pegasus had seen. Hunter was already almost out of sight, darting from side to side and weaving through the trees. Steel broke into a canter, his hooves leaving clear marks in the pale brown dirt as he surged forward to catch up with Hunter. It was around the next bend that the Smokey Mountain Ranger Station finally came into view through the trees. First it was little more than a brown smudge broken up by various tree trunks, but as he came closer details began to resolve. It was large, much larger than he had expected, and divided into different sections, almost as if several different building of various types had been connected into one. The path led right up to the entrance, where several steps rose up to a large double door that was currently wide open. Hunter was standing near the base of the stairs, already excitedly chatting with a light grey unicorn mare with a rich purple mane. “—I’m not a Ranger anymore.” Steel made out Hunter saying as he moved closer. “You’re not?” The grey mare asked, shocked. “You quit?” Hunter shook his head. “Got recruited.” His next words came out as a whisper, just low enough that Steel could hear him over the crunching of his hooves on the gravel that surrounded the station. “Forcibly.” Hunter made an exaggerated hoof motion in Steel’s direction and the mare rolled her eyes while shaking her head. “If he had to force you into anything that he’s going to be a part of, then he doesn’t know what he’s in for.” The grey mare rose from her spot on the porch as he approached and trotting down the steps. “Ranger Violet Petal, at your service,” she said, stopping and extending her hoof towards Steel. Now that she was closer, he could make out the small pair of bright orange flowers on her flank, although he wasn’t sure what kind of flower they were. He took a few rapid observations about her. Probably five or six years older than Hunter, near retirement judging from the smaller wrinkles in the corners of her eyes. In shape, but not quite as in shape as she had been a few months ago, perhaps owing to the relaxed nature of the environment. Was she serving at a desk job then? A strong voice, one that was used to giving orders and having them followed. “Captain Steel Song, Dusk Guard,” Steel said, giving her hoof a shake. “I see you already know my lieutenant,” he said with a tilt of his head towards Hunter. “A lieutenant?” Violet said, looking back over at Hunter. “You hadn’t mentioned that part yet.” “First lieutenant actually.” Hunter said, flashing her a grin. “I wasn’t about to let myself take a pay dive.” “Hah, I’ve seen your pay grade,” Violet said with a roll of her eyes. “You had nothing to worry about.” She turned her attention back to Steel. “So, aside from being beleaguered with this joker and probably wanting to pawn him back off on us, what can I do for you?” “I’m looking for a pony that was spotted in this area a few weeks ago. A zebra actually.“ “You’re looking for Sabra?” Violet said, surprised. A defensive look came into her eyes. “Why?” she asked, her gaze narrowing. “Relax,” Hunter said before Steel could say anything. “We want to hire him. Oh, and—“ he said in an off-hoof manner, “—he was here a few days ago.” “How did you—?“ Steel said, neatly mirroring Violet’s own “How in Equestria—?” Hunter rolled his eyes and pointed one hoof at the hoof prints of his cutie mark. “Cutie Mark in tracking remember? He was here a few days ago, he left some strands of his coat caught on the door when he opened it.” He flew over to the station doors and carefully wiped his hoof down the door. “See?” he asked, carefully flying back. Sitting in the center of his upturned hoof was a small cluster of white and black hairs. “Ok, unless we’ve got somepony else with a black and white coloration,” Violet said, but Steel could see that it was more to argue the point than a denial of fact. “Besides, how could you know how recent it is?” “Weather reports,” Hunter said. “There was a strong storm sent through here a week ago, I know because it came through Ponyville later that day. These,” he held up the hairs once more. “Were both lightly embedded in the wood, and the wood underneath was dry. That, and I also know that he was here because I can see the marks his staff made on the trail.” “Wow,” Violet said, and Steel could see her face was mirroring the look of surprised awe on his own. “I’d heard stories about how good you were, but actually seeing it in action? That’s impressive.” “Thank you.” Hunter said, offering an exaggerated bow. “But hey, we all have our talents.” “Indeed we do,” Steel said, turning to face Violet. “Which is why we’re looking for Sabra, he has a unique array of talents that we’d like to hire him for.” “Well,” Violet said, visibly relaxing as she looked towards him. “Hunter’s right, Sabra passed by here a few days ago. We see him every once in awhile, sometimes he stick around for a few hours and pitches in with the odd job or two.” She waved a hoof at the station behind her. “He even helped us paint this place a few months ago, barely accepted the bits we offered for it.” Her hoof switched directions, pointing at a path that receded away from the station through the forest. “Not that your tracker he couldn’t tell I’m sure, but he lives out somewhere on Smokey Mountain.” Steel tilted his head back, taking in the sight of the massive peak that jutted out over the forest like rocky, crag-filled spike. The highest peak in the Unicorn Range, Smokey Mountain towered over the landscape like a snow-capped leviathan. Its lower flanks were covered in trees, the vibrant greens of the Whitetail Woods giving away to the darker greens of mountain pines as the forest moved upward. Eventually the trees became scarce altogether, the mottled greens giving way to patches of grey stone, interspaced by small bits of color that were the forests last, most hardy handouts. The peak itself was wrapped in snow that persisted year round, even in the heat of the summer, giving the peak a perpetual haze of wispy cloud that had earned the mountain its name. Every so often some dutiful geologists or tourists would undertake the journey to the peak, spending several days making their way up the side of the mountain. While not as impressive as some of the peaks elsewhere in the world such as the Whinyleyas, Smokey Mountain had earned itself a respectable status as one of Equestria’s best locations for determined mountaineers. “Pretty interesting place to live,” Hunter said, breaking Steel’s concentration. “Any ideas on where exactly?” Violet shook her head. “We’ve got the Outpost on the South side of the mountain right near the edge of the tree-line, but no pony has ever seen him go by, so he probably leaves the trail before then and strikes out on his own. “Shouldn’t be too hard for me to pick up his trail then,” Hunter said, landing on the ground and moving towards the path Violet had pointed out. “Thanks for your help.” He didn’t look back, his eyes were already on the trail in front of him, taking in detail that was invisible to anypony else. “Thanks,” Steel said, raising on hoof and offering it in a shake. “Not a problem,” the mare said as she raised her own hoof into his and shook. “It’s not everyday you get to meet the tracking legend of the Rangers and the famous Steel Song. Oh yes,” she said as she saw his expression change. “I knew who you were the moment you walked into this clearing. You might not be a 'big-name pony' like say, Sapphire Shores,” she said, her hooves making quote marks in the air. “But you’re a story among the Rangers for the few times you’ve pitched in to help out. Most of us senior officers are old enough to remember the help you gave us near Manehatten. Don’t worry,” she said, snapping him a salute. “We’re not going to put you up on a pedestal or anything, but we do our best to repay whatever help we’re given.” “Thank you,” Steel said, smiling as he returned her salute. “It’s been a pleasure.” And with that, he turned towards the forest trail and started off after Hunter. They made their way along the trail for several hours in relative silence. Around them the wind continued to rustle through the leaves, mixing with birdsong and occasional animal calls to make a relaxing symphony that seemed to follow them through the woods. Like the trail from the supply stop, the path was wide and well maintained, and wound through the forest with no apparent hurry. Several times it passed over small streams, on a few occasions even the same stream, doubling back like a snake as it made its way through the woods. Neither of the two ever got wet however, as the Rangers had built bridges at each one of the crossings, sturdy things of thick wooden planks that produced solid thumping noises as the two ponies made their way over them. Eventually the trail began to slope upward and the forest around them began to change, the smooth pale bark of the Whitetail Woods giving away to the rougher and darker bark of the occasional mountain pine or spruce tree. Instead of the occasional leaf underhoof, the trail began to show signs of the changing flora, small patches of long pine needles began to coat the trail, making a faint rustling as they stepped through them. The sounds of the forest began to change as well, birdsongs fading as they climbed higher, replaced instead by the calls of eagles. The soft gurgle of creeks became a rushing roar as water cascaded over rocky drops. The air grew sharper, as if there was an invisible edge to it that couldn’t cut, but could still be felt with each breath. The trail began to switch back and forth as the duo continued up the mountain, trading vertical ascent for ease, although from time to time the two would just cut across, Hunter weaving his body through the thick pine branches with impressive agility, while Steel would simply power himself up the slope, his thick muscles propelling him upward. Before long, the horizon began to drop and they could see the Whitetail Wood spread out below them like a thick, green carpet. The wooden bridges the two had crossed earlier began to show up even when there wasn’t a stream to cross, instead bridging particularly narrow or unstable gaps in the trail. And still the trail climbed on. They were growing close to the treeline, the sun high overhead, when Hunter finally stopped, holding up his hoof in the “stop now” sign that Steel and so many of the Rangers understood. “He breaks off from the trail here,” he said, pointing down at a scuff mark in the dirt. Steel moved in closer and leaned down as Hunter began to explain. “His hooves pivot here.” He tapped a series of hoof marks that twisted in the dirt. “His staff switches sides, so he’s adjusted the weight of his saddlebags on his back and now it's tilted the other way. His left hind hoof is digging slightly further into the darkened dirt of the trail.” Hunter followed the path with his eyes, moving across the trail and then into the woods. “He’s heading east.” Hunter said, moving over to the side of the trail and inspecting some of the mountain brush. “The brush here is showing a regular break pattern, he must come this way every week or two.” “Will it be easy to track?” Steel inquired. Hunter turned back to look at him and gave him a grin. “He might as well have painted the trail with glowing paint while singing out ‘I’m a Pretty Loony’ and dancing,” he said, before turning back to the edge of the trail and climbing into the brush. “If we’re lucky, he’s not too far away and we might be able to make it back to the Station by nightfall.” “I hadn’t pegged you as the type to be afraid of the dark,” Steel said as he followed Hunter from the trail and into the underbrush, pressing branches aside with his chest. The trail they were following had definitely been made by a smaller pony than he, and while Hunter seemed to have no problem sliding underneath and around the branches in their path, he was having to resort to shoving them out of the way. Hunter gave a small laugh as he ducked around another tree, his eyes still downward, following clues that were all but invisible to Steel’s eyes. “Hey, I spent three years out in Everfree forest, can’t blame a guy for wanting to see who else roosts at the station that he might know.” ‘You can’t tell just by looking at the ground?” Steel asked as he shouldered his way past the small pine, the hundreds of long needles feeling like an itchy brush as they ran through his coat. How did Hunter manage to keep his abnormally long mane from getting tangled in any of this stuff? “I’m good,” Hunter said from ahead as the trail broke out of the brush and into a more open, although steeper, patch of the forest. “But I’m not that good.” He looked at the ground ahead of him for a few moments, eyes panning across small trees, moss, and grass, before turning slightly and heading across without a sign of hesitation and plunging back into the forest. The trail continued in this manner, breaking in and out of the forest until finally it broke out altogether, having finally raised itself high enough to pass beyond the tree-line. It was at this point that the journey became more difficult. Had the two ponies been on the southern side, where the Rangers kept the trails on easily circumventable terrain and worked to keep them clear, the way forward would have been much easier. Instead the two were following a path laid down by a lone zebra over a period of months, a path that wound through boulders and the rocky terrain with no regards to the ease of the path. Several times Hunter took to wing, flying over large boulders while Steel, still following, had to clamor up the rock behind him, carefully digging each hoof into the stone. “We’re almost there,” Hunter said, stopping suddenly on the rocky path. They were currently more than halfway up the mountain’s east side, following a narrow outcropping of rock that twisted and turned along the sheer side of the mountain. “How can you tell?” Steel asked, looking down with apprehension at the long drop below them. He knew that if he fell Hunter would easily be able to catch him before he approached the bottom, but that would mean climbing back up the mountain, something he wasn’t too keen to do twice if he could avoid it. “The pattern of his hoofsteps changes,” Hunter said. “He speeds up slightly.” He motioned with one hoof, pointing at a bend up ahead where the trail swept around the side of the mountain and out of sight. “Unless something started chasing him, I’d expect we’ll find him right around this bend.” “Alright then,” Steel said, still eyeing the long drop to his right. “Lets go see if he’s home.” The two ponies rounded the bend in the trail to see a surprising tableau spread out before them. The trail widened almost as soon as it rounded the bend, growing away from the mountain as it moved inward, and leaving the two ponies standing at the peak of a U-shape in the side of mountain. The base of the U however was not empty, but instead a shelf of rock that grew from one side of the alcove to the other. Sitting in the center of that shelf was a small wooden hut, smoke cheerfully rising from a small hole in its roof, while nearby, a young zebra stood carefully on one front leg, balancing on a bamboo staff, his back towards them. At first glance Hunter wasn’t quite sure that the zebra was balancing at all. His hind legs were in the air, his whole body pointed upward from a single front hoof planted on a bamboo staff, but all initial signs that the action was even remotely challenging were absent. There was no quiver to his movements, no jerky motions that would have marked him as anything other than a statue. As he looked closer, however, Hunter could see the gradual movement of the colt's chest, the slow, methodic ripple of whipcord muscle underneath the stallions coat as he made minute adjustments to his position. There was a sudden burst of motion as the zebra spun his hind legs downward, twisting his body and pushing off of the staff with his one hoof. The motion stopped, and now he was facing them, settled gracefully on one bent rear leg, his hooves held together in front of him. He gave them a short, curt bow with his head and upper body, all the while balancing on the bamboo rod. Hunter raised his eyebrows in surprise at the sight of the blindfold tied across the zebra’s eyes. “Salamu.” The zebra said. His voice was soft and quiet, almost melodic, but there was solidarity behind it, a firmness that reminded Hunter of Steel’s own gruff but firm tone. The meaning of the word was unknown to him, unfamiliar as he was with the Zebra tongue. “Salamu,” Steel replied, nodding his head in return, although the zebra likely couldn’t see him through the blindfold. “Are you Sabra?” There was a moment's pause, then the zebra nodded quietly. “I am he,” he said. “Well,” Hunter said after the silence began to stretch to what he felt was an uncomfortable level. “I see why they called you the ‘silent monk.’” “Do you truly see?” Sabra asked, his voice still soft and quiet. “Or are you merely reading the shadows set upon the cave wall?” Hunter blinked as he tried to wrap his mind around the strange response. “What?” he finally stammered. “Don’t worry about it,” Steel said in his direction. “You think too hard on it and you might hurt something.” He turned back to the balancing zebra. ‘Sabra, my name is Steel Song, and I am Captain of the Dusk Guard.” There was no response from the inert zebra. “I’m here because I would like to offer you a position in our division. I’ve heard a great deal about your skills, and I feel that our team would be greatly for the better if we could enlist your services.” “Forgive me my manners,” Sabra said after a moment, flipping his body once again and landing on his other forward hoof, this time with his back curled so far back that his grey-and-white striped tail was hanging above his black-and-white contrasting mane. “I would cease my zoezi—my exercise,” he said, catching himself as he slipped into his own language. “But I am nearly finished. Then,” he said, idly putting his body into a spin with a twitch of his hoof. “I will be more than happy to assist in your questions.” They stood there in silence for a moment as Sabra put his body through more motions, each time landing on one hoof and staying perfectly balanced on the bamboo staff, although occasionally it would flex underneath his weight. Hunter watched as the zebra’s body contorted itself into increasingly strange positions, each time landing spot on the bamboo staff. The colt's body moved like water, twisting and flowing through the air as he moved from position to position. As he watched, Hunter spotted what looked like a cutie mark on the colt's flank, a series of three concentric circles that radiated out from a central point. What it stood for he couldn’t say, but it was clearly something special to the zebra youth. And youth he was, Hunter put him almost at the age most ponies would have been when they were finishing up their school years and beginning careers, although no pony that age had probably ever looked like Sabra. The colt’s body was like one large coiled spring, Hunter observed as he watched the various rotations. There was no fat or signs of luxury on the colt's body, instead nothing but a smooth leanness of muscle. Although the colt was smaller than he was, Hunter could easily imagine Sabra being much stronger than he was. With a final kick of his hind legs, Sabra leaped backwards in a flip and landed neatly on all fours, his staff falling backwards towards him. He caught it neatly in his teeth, spun it around his neck once with a quick toss of his head, a feat that had Hunter’s eyes wide, and then neatly slid it into a small grey harness that was wrapped around his chest. “So,” Sabra said, the tail ends of his blindfold hanging down in front of his shoulders. “What do you two wish of me?” ‘How do you know there are only two of us?” Hunter asked. “There could be three or four.” The zebra smiled slightly. “Because I only hear two of you. Two steps of hooves approached on the pass, two have spoken.” “One of us could be a pegasus, and could be flying overhead.” Hunter replied. He noticed from the corner of his eye that Steel was giving him an amused look. “You are a pegasus,” Sabra said with a slight tilt of his head. “And there are no other pegasi nearby, nor unicorns, griffins, or other manner of airborne individuals.” “Huh,” Hunter said, sitting back. The kid certainly sounded sure of his deductions. “You didn’t read all the way through his file did you?” Steel said quietly with a shake of his head. “His special talent is navigation by sound.” "Oh ...” Hunter said, thinking back to the file that he’d made it through only the first page of before his thoughts had drifted. “I knew you were asleep,” Steel said in a tone that promised some form of retribution later. “Sabra's also a Master of the Fimbo style, the youngest master in—” He turned to look at Sabra. “Seventeen generations,” Sabra said with no hint of pride at the accomplishment, but Hunter noted, no sense of disappointment either. “Thank you,” Steel said, giving Hunter one last disapproving look before turning back to look at Sabra. “So, Sabra.” There was a polite nod from the zebra. “Captain Steel Song, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Steel strode forward and raised his hoof, and Hunter was again impressed when Sabra’s own hoof rose in perfect time to meet Steel’s in a hearty shake. “Asante,” Sabra said, dropping the Captains hoof and then using it to pull his blindfold from his face, revealing a pair of shockingly vivid violet eyes staring at them. “It is always a pleasure to ... To meet new ponies,” he said, slightly haltingly. His voice was still soft. “Now, as to what you said earlier.” “Indeed,” Steel said, sitting back on his haunches, Sabra doing the same. “As I said, I’m Captain of the Dusk Guard—it’s a new Guard division,” he said as Sabra’s brow slightly furrowed at the name. “We’re building a small detachment of very talented ponies to serve Equestria in whatever capacity is requested by the Royal Sisters, primarily to protect and preserve the peace of those who live here. I would be honored if you would add your skills to the Dusk Guard.” There was a long period of silence after Steel finished speaking. Sabra was motionless, his gaze fixed on the olive colored stallion. Then after some time, he sighed and spoke. “When the world is at peace, a gentlepony keeps his sword at his side.” His voice was quiet and somber. “Are you like Aristrotle of old then, making war that you may live in peace?” “To subdue an enemy without fighting is the acme of skill,” Steel replied, and Hunter recognized it as a quote from an ancient pegasus commander. “We will not seek violence, not as such.” “Then what—” Sabra answered, looking Steel directly in the eyes, “—would you require of me if I—” he paused, struggling for the right word and finding it, “—joined?” Steel shrugged. “I can’t rightfully say. It may be that we are asked to repel another invasion like one from the changelings we suffered several weeks ago. Or it may be that someone becomes lost somewhere and we are sent in to help them. We are to protect the citizens of this nation, and that is our calling.” “And does it matter so much that I am not technically a citizen of this nation?” Sabra asked. “Well, not as far as I see it, no,” Steel said, fixing a dark blue eye on Sabra. “According to what I’ve read about you, you’ve already proven yourself capable of protecting those in need, once in the Hayseed Swamps, and again in the Foal Mountains. If you ask me, you’ve already proven yourself fit to serve on the Dusk Guard.” There was another patch of silence and then Sabra spoke. This time however, he turned his attention to Hunter. “May I ask you a question?” he said, his voice still calm and quiet. “Sure,” Hunter said, wondering what the zebra’s purpose was in addressing him. “I was wondering what you would say life is?” Sabra asked. There was no hint of amusement or malice behind the question, just pure, honest inquiry. “Well, um,” Hunter said, his mind racing. “I guess it would be everything around us.” He motioned with one hoof at the mountains around them. “I mean, everything that’s alive is life, so that would be the answer to your question I think.” He stopped expectantly, but Sabra didn’t look convinced. “And you, Captain Song,” Sabra said, facing Steel once more. “Just call me Steel for now,” Steel said, getting a quick nod from Sabra in return. “Steel, then,” Sabra said. “What do you think life is?” Steel paused for a moment before he spoke, and when he did, his gaze was slightly to one side, as if he was looking at someone other than Sabra. “Well,” he said. “I’m not quite sure exactly what sort of answer you’re looking for, but to me, I guess, well, life for me would have to be this.” He turned and pointed at the twin silver kite shields on his flank. “My life has been all about protecting and defending those who need that protection, that help. To me life is—” there was a pause in his voice and Hunter had the distinct impression that there was something more he wanted to say, but didn’t want to say. “It’s protecting those I care about,” Steel said at last. “Whether they be a pony—or an individual—that I know or not. If they need protection, then I protect them.” He looked back at Sabra, and Hunter could see the fierce determination in his eyes at his words. “My life has been in the protection of others.” “How much do you know about my travels here in Equestria?” Sabra asked. “Do you know why I travel here?” When Steel shook his head, Sabra continued. “Among the order that I am part of, when one wishes to pass beyond the rank of master to the seventh and highest rank, they are told to create a question. We ask our question of the other masters, and of the students, until we have asked our question of everyone at the monastery. If we ever receive an answer that satisfies our question from any at the monastery, we are to return and begin anew with a question. When we reach a question that has no answer, then we are expelled from the monastery to travel the world until we reach the answer we seek. It is then, and only then, that we return to our people and give our answer so that all may be enriched by our experiences. I seek the answer to a question, and so I have come to Equestria in search of my answer.” Sabra finished speaking and sat back. Hunter hadn’t even noticed when the colt had risen. “Seems like there could be a few ways out of that one,” he said. “You could ask something simple like ‘What do I have in my pockets’ or something like that.” “Hunter,” Steel said, his voice a warning tone. “No, it is fine,” Sabra said. “Each question is always different, and each is individual, although I believe that question has been asked before by a traveler such as myself.” “Either way,” Steel said, shooting a warning look Hunter’s way as he turned towards Sabra again. “So you want to find the answer to your question then?” The zebra nodded. “Well then, we can help with that,” Steel said. “Join us, and you’ll be under the direct employ of the Royal Sisters, as well as traveling with us to various locations. If you don’t find the answer in the Canterlot Archives or on one of our missions, I’m more than certain that one of the sisters themselves could help you.” “Perhaps,” Sabra said. “Although, once I have my answer, would I be free to return to my order as I pleased?” "You would,” Steel said. “As long as you wouldn’t mind any attempts to convince you to stay.” Sabra smiled. “Truly would the world be a grim place indeed if we did not attempt to delay the moving on of those close to us.” "So you’ll do it?” Steel asked. Sabra smiled at them both. “Ndiyo! When do we depart, and what shall my duties be?” “We’ll depart as soon as you can be ready,” Steel said. “Do you need much time to gather your things?” he asked as Sabra turned and vanished into the small hut. “Truly I have but a little in the way of material goods.” Sabra called from the doorway. “I travel light and swift.” There was the sound of something rattling from inside as the monk continued to assemble his goods. “The hut I shall leave, its interior some other stray traveler to protect in time of need.” There was a last puff of smoke from the roof, and Sabra walked out, the cabin’s small door shutting behind him. A rolled bedroll was over his back, and two small saddlebags sat astride each flank. His bamboo staff was still sitting lightly against his upper right side, swinging slightly with each step. “So,” he asked, his voice louder and clearer than any time he had spoken previously, and a wide smile on his face. “Where are we headed?” “To Appleloosa,” Steel said, tossing his head towards the trail. “To collect the last member of our little team.” He started down the path at a brisk trot. “If we hurry, we can make it to the Ranger Station before dark. I’ll tell you all about your new job along the way.” Sabra watched as the two ponies began making their way along the trail. He hadn’t quite done his full practice since the two had come, but it never hurt to test his abilities a bit more. He reached into his saddlebags and pulled out a well worn strip of cloth. With practiced movement, he flipped it over his eyes, tying the back in a swift knot. Then, eyes closed to the world, he followed the two older ponies down the trail. He was Sabra, Fimbo Master.