//------------------------------// // 2: Departure // Story: Frequencies: To End The Signal // by Lord Destrustor //------------------------------// Spike awoke with a start, sitting up in his basket. The sun shone sporadically through the window, casting occasional vertical stripes on the walls as it passed through the sturdy iron bars of Twilight’s empty cell. The tree library was likewise as empty, for the third morning in a row. The silence hung in the early morning light, smothering the screams and darkness of the dreams the young dragon had just escaped. He took a moment to wind down, letting his heartbeat slow down as he cast the memories of the nightmares to oblivion. He knew full well that they would return as soon as he slipped back into the realm of dreams, just as they had done for well over three months now. Still, better to bury them as soon as possible, instead of letting them haunt him all day; he had work to do, after all. Today was the big day. He got up, stretching his limbs and pushing aside the two books he had bored himself to sleep with the night prior. He realized, as he pushed the basket to its once-usual place near the foot of Twilight’s bed, that he would not sleep there that night. He would not eat his lonely, depressing meal alone in the kitchen that night. He would not bathe himself in silence, he would not empty Twilight’s waste bucket or feed her, or bring her her toiletries and a few books to help her take her mind off the horrible things she had done to ponies she loved. He would not dust and order the library that day, like the days and weeks before, each and every repetition making him more and more of a soulless automaton. He would not repeat the mindless tasks and data-gathering tests he had turned into a daily routine that day, toiling until he finally succumbed to his fatigue and sleep-deprivation and let them take him to the torment of his sleeping mind for a few miserable hours prior to starting all over again the next day. He would not die a little more inside that day. His gaze swept around the room, taking in all the things he would not see again for… possibly forever; the iron bars of Twilight’s cage, the thick, comforting wooden walls of the hollow tree, the books scattered everywhere in, on and around the furniture, Twilight’s numerous trinkets and possessions, her bed, his basket, her telescope and the abandoned perch of Owlowiscious. The young dragon’s jaw hung partly open, his heartbeat accelerating slightly as he spun in place. He might never get to see any of those things ever again. He had known it, had mulled it over in his head over the past few days, but it was only at this point that it really hit him: he would leave here, and might never come back. He was about to be free. He blinked, twice, panting lightly, before shaking his head. He had things to do. He began descending the stairs, stealing one last fleeting glance at the room. Once in the kitchen, he rapidly consumed the last of the food in the library, the final portion of the carefully rationed supplies he had arranged to run out that very morning. He would not come back for quite a while, and had been loathe to have to throw out food that would have otherwise spoiled in his absence. Once sated, he moved back to the main room. The wide, empty spaces among the shelves showed just how many books he had brought to Twilight. Hopefully it would be enough. A few feet from the door, a relatively large duffel bag lay on the ground, prepared well in advance and ready to go. On its green canvas was a simple envelope. He gently moved it aside to check once more the contents of the bag; some rations, a blanket, a map, a compass, minor tools. But most importantly, most prominently, the compass, the tracking device locked in its protective steel case. A small, sturdy vial of ink and an accompanying quill were tucked away in a side pocket, along with a compact packet of folded paper. He had everything he would need. Shouldering the bag, he opened the door and stepped outside. As he shut the door, he couldn’t help but cast a final look inside, the last time he would observe this place, his home. The hinges squeaked softly, the low groan echoing through the empty streets in the still morning air. The lower, louder knock of the lock turning soon followed. The envelope was already addressed and signed, with a scant few words written on its surface. Fluttershy. Here’s the key. Goodbye. The library key was inserted in the envelope, and it, in turn, was engulfed in green flames, soaring away in the indecisive sky. Spike watched it go until it disappeared in the distance, heading towards the pegasus’ home. There was nothing left to do in Ponyville anymore. He could go now. He took his first step, then the other, then one more. Each one seemed to ease the clenching feeling in his heart. He was leaving. His steps took him to the edge of town, along the southward road. The train tracks were to his right, heading off into the distance while glinting in the sporadic sunlight. He contemplated the road ahead. The signal detector had consistently pointed roughly south-east whenever he had opened it, meaning his path could follow this road for a time. “Spike!” A voice shouted from behind. “Spike! Wait!” The purple dragon turned around to see a stunning white mare galloping in his direction. Her deep violet mane trailing behind her, her hooves hurriedly pounding the earth as she closed the distance. As she got closer, he could see she was carrying heavy saddlebags, each one seemingly packed full. “What are you doing, Rarity?” he asked as she reached him. “Did you come to say goodbye?” He definitely felt that, were that the case, he would have been immensely flattered. He had kept his feelings for her buried for a while, but had not forgotten them. The thought that she cared enough about him to do this made his heart soar a bit higher. She stopped in front of him in a slight slide, struggling to catch her breath. “No.” she managed to spit out between gasps. An uneasy feeling swelled up in Spike’s stomach. She was there to oppose him, wasn’t she? She would try to convince him to stay, telling him it would be safer? She would plead and beg, asking him to stay in Ponyville, to stay safe. To stagnate. To keep dying. His face flushed in anger beneath his scales, his voice instantly rising to a shout. “Well you won’t stop me! If you think I’m going to back down now, you-“ “No, no no no no!” The hornless unicorn cut him off, shaking her head. After a deep breath to regain her composure, she added: “You’ve got it all wrong, darling. I’m not here to see you off or prevent you from leaving in any way.” “Then what are you-“ “I’m coming with you.” “What?” He couldn’t quite believe what he had just heard. Looking at her determined expression, and the proud, confident posture she had adopted, he soon had to admit she at least seemed serious. “But… why?” he asked, trying to spot a hint of deception in her blue eyes, any clue that would tell him whether she was lying, insane, or simply hiding ulterior motives. “Spike, do you really want a list of the reasons why I would want to help a friend put a stop to the malicious curse that robbed me of most of my friends, my sister, and my entire career? Do I really need to convince you that this Signal must be stopped? “Do you know what my last sale was? Roseluck came to me last week to have a blanket patched up. That is it, nothing else. My business is dead, leaving me to rot in this awful, inactive stasis! Why would I want to leave, you ask? Why would I ever want to stay here if it means being nothing more than a sewing machine on legs? Ponyville doesn’t need me here, Sweetie Belle doesn’t need me here; What she needs is for somepony to shut that damned, condemnable noise up for good!” Rarity was nearly shouting at that point, eyes wide and almost wild. She blinked a few times and, taking a deep breath, trotted past Spike with her head raised in the air. “That is why I’m coming along.” Her tone was definitive, the matter was closed. Spike hurriedly caught up to her as she walked away. “But what about Applejack? She doesn’t want me taking anyone with me!” “If the farmer wants to stay here and cower like a filly instead of trying to save Equestria again, who are we to oppose her? She can decide for herself if she wants to huddle and hide in her false sense of security, and although she may not want you to bring ponies along, she definitely has no right to prevent me from following you of my own volition! I am my own mare, I make my own decisions!” She punctuated her argument with a flick of her mane and a dignified, indignant huff. Spike didn’t quite know how to respond. It would be good to have company, but there would be untold danger ahead, countless occasions to die or suffer. There was no easy way through, no possible shortcuts. This was going to be hard; whatever was responsible for The Signal was undoubtedly either extremely powerful, guarding the source, or both. Wandering unicorns were bound to stand in their way, and other dangerous obstacles were all but expected. This was suicide. Even for one immune to the most predictable threat ahead. Looking at the former unicorn, Spike saw that she knew all of that. And still she insisted. “Rarity!” The mare stopped when her name was called with a shaky voice, turning around to see the small dragon rushing up to her. His arms wrapped around one of her legs in a tight hug. “T-thank you.” He whispered into her coat, a few tears soaking the hair. She sat down, wrapping her other foreleg around the purple dragon. “There, there, Spike. I simply couldn’t let you go alone.” Rarity absent-mindedly looked around as she patted the dragon’s back, her mind going back to her own words of just a moment ago. Could she let him go alone? Would she let him go? It would still be so easy; they were still on Ponyville’s metaphorical doorstep. A simple excuse, a retraction, a forgotten detail she had to attend to. Mea culpa. Lies. It would only take a few lies, just like those she was telling herself at that very moment; why yes, she could back down right then. She could tell Spike that she wasn’t really coming. She could break his heart on the spot, betray him in the vilest way, trot away like a heartless monster while the little dragon cried his soul out. She could spend the rest of her life here as the most spineless of invertebrates after betraying the trust of the one being in Equestria who could always find a way to love her. She could decide to stay safe, to not risk her life, to settle peacefully in her protected hometown. She could break her promises for the sake of her own cowardice. In the world of lies, she could do anything. “But not here.” Not after saying these words. Not then, not anymore, never again. “What?” Spike looked up, drying his tears and breaking the hug. She stood back up, shaking her head slightly. “Oh, nothing. I just think we should get moving, darling.” “You’re right. Let’s go.” He adjusted his bag, draped behind his back, and set off with newfound enthusiasm. She joined him, the two of them quickly falling in step. They walked quietly, Spike still elated by the prospect of the white mare deciding to risk her life with him, while she was simply content to have brought a fleeting smile to his lips. A smile that vanished after just a few short minutes. He had smiled for but a moment, a rare occurrence these days, but as he walked ever further from the safety of the relatively protected town, his thoughts turned to the absolute lack of safety to come. She might have been ready to face danger for his sake, but was he willing for her to do so? Did he even have a choice? The roiling, broken clouds flew overhead, remnants of a nightly downpour fleeing the scene of their demise. The packed earth of the path had dried enough to be devoid of the expected slimy muck, although grains of wet sand still clung to their hooves and feet. The trees swayed gently in the moderate wind, sprinkling droplets of dew and lingering rainwater around themselves. Spike couldn’t help but notice how the scene was unusually beautiful for a cloudy summer day, even as embroiled as he was in his rapidly darkening thoughts. The silence dragged on for a while as the two travelers made their way up a low, grassy hill peppered with thick bushes. “So,” Rarity began, “Where are we going?” “Huh? Oh, uh, well, The Signal is coming from somewhere southwest of here, so I figured that we could just follow this road south until the detector points almost straight east, wherever that is.” “Why don’t you just cut straight through?” The young, feminine voice that had asked the question had come from a nearby bush, startling both Spike and Rarity. They turned to face the newcomer, trying to ready themselves for a fight. A small, orange pegasus filly calmly stepped forth, nonchalantly shaking a few leaves out of her purple mane. Several pouches were strapped around seemingly random parts of her body, and a strange bag swollen by sharp lumps was held between her short wings. “Scootaloo?” both Rarity and Spike shouted in unison, “What are you doing here?” The pegasus casually glanced at their adrenaline-flushed faces, before answering in a tone as neutral as her own expression. “Just doing my rounds, actually. But what are you doing here, miss Rarity?” “Why I…” the unicorn began, only to be immediately interrupted. “No pony is to leave Ponyville, unless escorted by or on duty as part of the militia. Captain’s orders, miss. I’m sure she’d be very thankful if I warned her that her dear friend was being dragged into danger, right?” Spike stepped forward angrily. “Hey! Back off! She decided to follow me! This is none of the militia’s business! This is none of Applejack’s business! You better not go tell her about this-“ “Oh yeah? Or else what?” The filly’s nose made contact with Spike’s, both sets of eyes glaring into each other. The stand-off lasted for a few seconds before the young pony shrugged and turned away with a smirk and a small scoff. “You know,” Scootaloo began, her back to Spike. “As a standing member of the Ponyville militia, it’s my duty to report everything I see to the captain. Especially things that are against the rules. So unless you guys want me to go report this little camping trip of yours, you’re going to have to take me with you.” The young dragon and the unicorn exchanged a surprised glance, immediately prior to asking a simple, simultaneous “What?” Scootaloo grinned, turning back around to face them. “No pony is to leave Ponyville unless escorted by or on duty as part of the militia.” The filly pointed a hoof to her own head, then to Rarity and finally to Spike as she continued: “I’m part of the militia, I can escort you, and you’re not a pony. If I go with the two of you the rules don’t get broken, and if the rules aren’t broken the captain doesn’t need to hear a word about this.” The two looked at each other, both equally baffled. Was Scootaloo serious? Or was this some sort of trick? Had she been sent by Applejack to spy on them, or was she really here of her own accord? Spike couldn’t help but blurt the first question that came to his mind. “Scootaloo… why?” The filly stomped a hoof on the ground, her expression halfway between anger and excitement. “Because I want that stupid Signal gone, and you guys are the only ones who are even trying to do a damn thing about it! Helping you is more important than following some dumb rules!” The small pegasus locked eyes with Spike to add: “Besides, you won’t make it without me.” “Excuse me?” Rarity said, stepping in. “Why I must say that this is rather presumptuous of you, young lady! We are certainly capable of taking care of ourselves, thank you very much!” “Oh yeah, sure! Because fashion designers and assistant librarians are basically the uncontested champions of outdoors survival! Besides, sneaking in unknown enemy territory is such a breeze, I’m sure you’ll be fine without any sort of training at all! Yep, you’ve convinced me, I’m going home! Don’t forget to bring us presents when you come back from your little vacation! I can’t wait to see all the pictures you’ll take!” Rarity stood, rendered speechless by the filly’s outburst. Scootaloo didn’t wait for a reply, pointing to a couple of bushes a short distance away. “Look at those bushes! One has tasty, healthy berries and the other will give you cramps, fever, and diarrhea. Does any of you even know which is which?” Both bushes looked frankly identical to Spike, each bearing a multitude of small red fruits among their dark green leaves. To simply know the difference between both at a mere glance was impressive. Applejack had seen to the training of every single one of the militia’s recruits personally, imparting a stupefying amount of survival techniques to them. The mere fact that Scootaloo had even been accepted into their ranks was a show of outstanding capability; not just anyone was entrusted with the defense of Ponyville’s perimeter. Although he had pored over survival books in preparation of his journey, Spike knew that no amount of study could truly compare to field experience. “She… does have a point, Rarity,” he said. “ …I suppose she does, darling.” “So, does that mean I can tag along?” “I guess so, it’s not like we can stop you from just hiding and following us anyway, right?” Spike shrugged as he answered, taking a new step on the southward path. “Although you could’ve just asked, you know.” “I could’ve, but I didn’t. The one without thorns had the poison berries, by the way.” Both ponies fell in step with the dragon, the trio ascending the gentle slope of the hill. The path turned and twisted up the inclination in ways that made the climb far easier. After a few minutes, the group reached the crest, where Spike took the time to look one last time at the quiet, ravaged town of Ponyville down below. Shadows of the clouds slithered across the few buildings and the numerous ruins, playing and dancing around in an illusion of life. The town would never be the same as before, but it might still be made better. He would make it better. “We’ll be back, Spike. I swear we will.” Spike noticed the white mare by his side by the sound of her voice, and the filly sitting next to him on the other side by the affirmative hum she made. They stared at the village for a few seconds more before turning away as one and, without a word, heading down the south face of the hill towards their destination. The first step was taken.