//------------------------------// // Homeland Oracle: Chapter 8 // Story: Homeland Oracle // by StoryForge //------------------------------// I heard the door to our shack creak open, allowing an array of dim light to outstretch itself and a shadow of a stallion on the floor before it. A single step produced a second creak in the small room. I sat up on my cot, wondering who might be at the door. I wondered, but did not dare ask, or even move. I sat there, frozen, my eyes locked on the front door of our home. Who was this stranger, and why was he here? The shadow crawled further in through the doorway, and merged itself with the darkness. The door closed. Silence. Suddenly, I heard the striking of the match. Two strikes later, the match lit, but I could not tell who our visitor was even still. It shone faintly against metal plating on the figure, presumably armor. The flame of the match floated away from him in the darkness, and shone faintly against a candle before touching its wick. The room was more visible now. The room was our home. I pulled the covers up and looked at the visitor in cowering fear. He wore leather with metal armor plating, and stood tall in our humble shack. However, the fear was in vain and unnecessary. It was Dad. “Daddy!” I yelled and jumped out of bed to give him the biggest bear hug a filly could give a pony. “I missed you so much!” “Hey-hey, sweetheart!” He wrapped a dusty foreleg around me. My mother, now a pregnant mare, carefully got out of bed to greet my father with a kiss and a hug. “Hey, I want one too!” I demanded. My father picked me up and placed me in my bed, and planted a kiss on my forehead. “Goodnight, Rain-drop. When you get up tomorrow morning, I’ve got a present for you. But you gotta wake up before I head off to work!” “Yay! Thanks! I’ll be up, Dad.” “Okay. Goodnight, for real.” He telekinetically pulled the covers of my bed back over me. The glow of his magic came off the blanket and materialized into the shape of a spider. “Don’t let the bedbugs bite!” The spider shape began to tickle my stomach, and it forced an uncontrollable laugh to explode from my mouth. “Stop, Dad!” “Sleet!” My mother hissed. “You don’t want to wake up the neighbors, do you?” “No, you’re right. Sorry, honey,” my father apologized. He trotted over to their shared cot and slipped in. “Goodnight, Rain, see you in the morning.” His magic enveloped the candle and the flame went out. Darkness again. - - - -x-x-x- - - - “Why have you come here?” was the question we were asked when we were presented to the chief. The answer was a bag of confusion. There was no real reason we ended up here in this particular location other than either our luck in direction, or our lack thereof. The next few minutes might decide which of these it was. We were in a room exhibiting a culture of which I haven’t seen before. The center of the room was a bearskin rug, which struck me as odd. Behind the rug were guards, one male and one female, dressed in face paint and straps, which held weapons. Their face paint schemes were identical. Behind the rug and guards was a fireplace, with food cooking inside. A pot could also be seen. In front of the rug was us, sitting on pillows on the floor. The chief was sitting in front of us on the bearskin rug. What struck me particularly as odd was a giant wooden pole with faces of animals carved in it. It was expertly done, but in a style that was new to me. “We need your help,” My companion and I stated simultaneously. We looked at each other. I gave her a smirk. “Yes, yes, I see this,” the chief said, rubbing his chin with a forehoof. He picked up a bottle of an ugly green liquid and took a sip. “What I mean is, why have you come here? There are many other places to solve your dilemma, but with what reason did you have to come to an isolated village in the middle of a remote forest?” “Well, you see, this mare here—” My companion spit out, while pointing at me. “Silence! ‘That mare there’ is a pure genius. You think I am unaware that you’re a Company assassin? I know what you ponies do. I know why you’re fused together, and I know why both of you tumbled off the road beating each other to a pulp. The only reason I don’t have you executed right now is because you’re fused with someone that wouldn’t put a bullet in my brain otherwise.” “Harumph,” my companion snorted. I rolled my eyes at her and stuck out our foreleg in front of us. “So how do we fix this?” The chief sighed before informing us. “You’re going to need either a skilled unicorn or an alchemist to create it for you. Luckily, I am the latter. I can create a potion for you to be able to fix your dilemma. However, you’re going to need ingredients.” We looked at each other. “So... how do we get these ingredients?” He told us that we were going to have to do some things for him first. The first of which was that we needed to fetch the main ingredient for it from the woods. This ingredient is actually a flower called Blue Joke, according to him, and that we should never touch it. “It may seem beautiful to the eye,” he said, “but not to the body.” He instructed that I was to carry it using my magic to avoid coming into physical contact with it. He didn’t tell us why. The chief also presented another issue. He informed me of a growing problem of attacks from the psychopaths—which he referred to as the Deranged—in the woods that has kept the village from foraging properly or without the loss of residents. They’ve barely been able to hold off their raids. The only thing he asked of us was to find out what happened to three of the village residents named Roaring Flare, and Scarlet Rose. These two ponies went foraging the day before, but haven’t returned. Due to his situation, he hasn’t sent anyone except his dearest friend and co-chief of the tribe, whom he refers to as Cirrus. He had not returned, let alone giving the chief any news. He was the third one. “You two have obviously learned to work together to some degree,” he admitted. “You did make it through the forest not only alive, but in one piece. You may be the only ones in this village that perform such a task by yourselves.” “You realize this might be suicide, correct?” my companion asked. Well, if she had one solid piece of information to put on the table this whole day, it would be that. “We’re throwing ourselves into the fire, here.” “Yes, you are.” He said, sounding understanding, closing his eyes. “But you did the same when you tackled your blue companion off a cliff, eh?” he turned his head again to face her with a lazy smile.          His voice suddenly became less cheerful, and his glare turned toward the bearskin rug. “Listen. We’re in trouble. We’re fighting a war of attrition with Deranged. My friends are out there, and they need your help just as much as the whole village does. I’m asking you not out of a business proposition but as their only method of survival. The only thing I gain from this arrangement is to see my friends alive and happy again.” I found myself looking at the floor as well. I thought of myself when he spoke just then. He just wanted to see his friends again. “So...” I hadn’t regarded him talking much until now. I mainly thought about what he said more than listened to it. “Shall I get you gear?” ---------- As it would turn out, we didn’t have much of a choice. Our only way of safely getting out of this predicament was to enlist the tribe’s help, and we were lucky to have that, let alone be alive. The chief, who finally introduced himself as Kind Wind, did indeed prove to be kind. We saw this trait through his care for the tribe, and how he didn’t see them as followers or subjects. He knew of them as friends. It was not a form of leadership I was used to, but it was more than effective. We walked through the village, and the sights and smells of the new culture intrigued me. The houses weren’t really buildings at all. They were huts made of a material called sod and topped with dried grass roofs. Back home, everything was made of stone or metal and very structural and dirty. Ironically, though, these buildings made of sod and grass were extraordinarily well-kept. The cooking—not that I have seen much of this before—was done over an open flame. The food were generally squirrels and other creatures I was not used to seeing, which had a stick through them and supported above the flame. We trotted past two of these on our walk. Kind Wind was leading us to a particular hut, though. Upon walking inside—which proved to be very difficult since we were attached—we noticed the hut had felt more spacious than it looked from the outside. Guns and weapons lined the walls, and at the opposite end of the hut sat a counter with a cash register sitting on top. Behind the counter, was a stallion with a grey coat and a spiky, dark blue mane. He forced his eyes open as we came in, probably waking up from a nap. “Hey Weld, these are the newcomers the guards pulled in. Good news, they’re not Deranged,” Kind Wind said, as he introduced us. The stallion gave a large yawn and a stretch before introducing himself. “Ah, ey, new amigos. Name’s Welded Steel,” the grey stallion said, in a slight accent that I’ve never heard before. “Pleasure to meetcha, please, come in, come in.” We take some steps inward, and browsed the walls. I could tell just by the way the firearms looked that they weren’t loaded, so no customers could pull anything funny. Smart idea. “This is Rain,” Kind Wind said and pointed a hoof at me, “and this is...?” My name had come up in conversation, but my companion’s did not. “My name is not important,” she said, flatly. Weld’s eyes became huge in surprise, and he quickly picked up a pistol from behind the counter with his mouth and aimed it at her. “Uh, why is dat thing here?” We raised our hoof. “Oh,” Welded Steel said, somehow understanding our dilemma and putting the gun back in its place behind the counter. “Haven’t seen that in a good while.” “You’ve seen this type of thing happen before?” I couldn’t help but to ask. “Yeah, when—” “Weld,” the chief interrupted. “Not now.” “Oh, right.” Welded Steel walked from behind the counter to stand next to the rack on the left side.  This rack seemed to contain simpler firearms. “Well, what’ll they have, chiefie? “They just need something simple, preferably one magazine each. we don’t have much to give them,” he said, raising a hoof in front of him, as if holding something in it. “Perhaps a pistol, or something like it.” “Right. Dis way, amigos.” ---------- “You know, you could be a little bit more personable,” I said to my companion. We trekked through the woods on a rough trail. Supposedly, the tribe members took this path to forage. Welded Steel accompanied the two of us. “I could,” she said, in her tinny, muffled voice. “I just prefer not to deal with tribals.” “What, are we some kinda race?” Welded Steel countered, sounding offended. “No,” she denied while turning her head slightly to face him, “I just prefer not to deal with you.” “I’m not gonna stand here an’ be—” “Okay, enough,” I interjected. “I think I hear something. I need you both to be quiet and cooperate.” “I am picking up movement in front,” muttered the masked assassin. I seriously need to learn her name. “Get down.” The three of us crouched behind a nearby log. I can’t say I was sure what to expect, even though we had just encountered Deranged some time ago. “Yes, definitely movement. Just one coming down the trail,” she informed us. I poked my head around the log to face the trail. I saw one Deranged, sniffing around, alternating to different sides of the trail as she made her way near us. She stopped, grunted, and looked in our direction. Doing my best to avoid noise, I casted my Drowsiness spell to make her less aware and nullify her senses. It worked a little bit too well, and she fell to the ground with little noise. I theorized she must have been susceptible to it due to drugs. The assassin turned her head to face me, still remaining crouched behind the log. “Well done.” “Jeez. You can do dat, amigo?” The weapons expert sat up from behind the log as he said this. “It wasn’t supposed to knock her out,” I said, sounding surprised that it had done just that. “Just make her a little unaware of her surroundings. I think she was intoxicated.” “I’ll say. She fell on the ground like a doll without joints,” Welded said as he walked from behind me to check the body. “Good work, kid. We can pass without making too much noise.” The assassin got up as well, and turned around to sit on the log. I walked over to see the unconscious body. “Woah, look at these babies,” Welded said, surprised. He shifted her muzzle to show her teeth, which were strangely sharp. She was pretty gnarly and grotesque in appearance as well. Like the others we encountered, she had a long, scraggly and bedraggled mane, infused with bits of blood in several places. Another thing that was unsettling was an extremely odd cutie mark. It was of a symbol rather than an object or activity. It featured three curved lines, and a single straight line in the center; two curved on the sides, with the bends facing each other, and one on top, facing the center of the three lines. The one straight line extended from the center downward. Blood matted parts of her coat. Another thing that stood out to me was her crude, nonetheless deadly weapon: A large bit of sharpened scrap metal fastened to her foreleg and jutted outwards. Dried blood could be seen on it. We direly hoped it was not those of Kind Wind’s and Welded Steel’s friends. We moved on, looking for traces of the tribe’s lost members. We did our best to keep a low profile, and expected the worst. I wasn’t sure what would happen or what we would find of the ponies we were looking for—we were trotting into the heart of deranged territory. I began to wonder if Deranged could use firearms. If they could fabricate their own melee weapons, could they use a firearm properly? I noticed many of the tribe were Earth ponies, which meant they most likely used Ironpony firearms. Ironpony guns are those that are made specifically to be operated with one’s hooves or mouth. The Company created this brand to be able to sell in large shipments to all of Equestria, and to reinstate their idea of superiority of Earth ponykind. As we walked, my mind drifted from our path. It thought way beyond current events now. What was Baltimare like, and how was I going to get there? Was my mysterious companion going to come with me? What other types of environments are in Equestria? I was brainwashed growing up, about what the world was, and how it should be run. What was Equestria really like? Thoughts ended and I became attentive when Welded Steel pointed something that deviated from the trail. It looked to be a small, brown shack. I figured maybe that this was constructed by the tribe, but wasn’t sure. I asked him about it. “I dunno,” he responded, while shrugging. “I’m not really from around here. But I don’t recall dat shack being constructed or mentioned.” “Let’s check it. Lay low, we’re heading into brush,” said my unnamed cohort. I really wish I could tag her with a name. We made our way off the trail, not without the uneasy feelings of course. I moved forward, synchronized with my partner while tall blades of plants brush my legs and torso. The shack had the eeriest feeling to it; it reminded me of home. It wasn’t as large as our place in Industead, but it still brought me back there. After being through what I’ve been through, I’ve missed it, yet not at all. The two of us stretched our heads out from our conjoined bodies to peer into the shack. It was terribly lacking: It contained only a table in the center of the room. Blood was sickeningly splatted on the table and along the opposite wall, closer to the right. A putrid stench hung in the hair. We heard heavy breathing from inside the shack, but could see nopony inside. We surprisingly managed to squirm our integrated body into the shack to investigate. In the right corner previously invisible to us was a pony hunched over, covered in blood and malnourished. He watched us with huge, bloodshot eyes, but uttered nothing. “Scarlet!” Welded exclaimed, “what happened? Let’s get you back to camp—” “No,” she uttered quietly. “It’s not worth it. The pain. It’s too great—” “Don’t say that, I don’t know what happened, but our alchemists and medics can make you better—” I hadn’t noticed she was a unicorn. Her bloody horn glowed a faint red, and for a second I hadn’t known why. Her shuddering didn’t change, but her eyes did—they looked towards my holstered pistol. I felt the firearm slip out of the holster, and tried to wrap my own magic around it to regain control of it. However, her grasp was much stronger. It felt angry... and hostile. My companion had the same thought I had. She was hostile. The gun was going to fire at us... end us. She drew her rapier, ready to slice, when the gunshot went off. Scarlet had killed herself. ---------- I spent the next few hours at camp consoling Welded Steel. Scarlet Rose had been a dear friend of his for years. Losing people to their own psyche is a thing I can definitely relate to. Pounce Scratch. However, she had not been killed. Half of her was still there with me. But Welded Steel lost her completely. He saw her kill herself. We hadn’t known why she had done so, but we theorized that the Deranged had corrupted her somehow, and that she was in the process of turning into one of them. It’s the closest thing we had to a reason. On a lighter note, good news returned that one of the other missing ponies, Roaring Flare, had come back. Her story was that the Deranged were actually somewhat organized, and had her captive. They communicated with each other and tested things on her. She warned them to watch out for any strange behavior from herself, as one of the tests had involved having fluid injected into her. She wasn’t sure what it was. My companion wasn’t too thrilled with me forcing her to sit in Steel’s shop while I consoled him. I’ve grown used to her heartlessness, but she’s become more attuned to my stubbornness.  I dragged her behind his counter so I could be there for him. I told him how I could somewhat relate, and that getting here has been no cakewalk. Made him feel a little better, but there had been emotional distress that could not be reasoned with. And then there was the cry. “Deranged!” erupted a voice from outside, and that’s when it hit the fan. He leaped over the counter from under my arm and ran to the gun rack, furiously looking for something to use. He made a selection of something compact and bolted out the hut, muttering unrecognizable things in frustration and anguish. “Steel!” I called out after him. My companion lagged behind and failed to synchronize her steps with mine properly. I wasn’t sure at the moment if she was being lazy or I was freaking out, but nonetheless we hobbled out of the tent. I saw and heard steel fire blindly into the forest after a bloody pony receded back into it, as if luring him. He took the bait and dashed out into the forest, yelling: “I’m going to kill you! All of you! You hear me?!” Oh, Celestia. I panicked and turned towards my masked ball-and-chain. “C’mon, we’re going after him! He needs our—” “Right.” I wasn’t sure if her response was sarcastic or she was actually agreeing with me, but I didn’t have time to be surprised. We threw ourselves out of the hut, and synchronized our legs to run full speed to the forest, following Steel. We seemed to ignore the warnings of the villagers as we ran by, but we heard and understood them completely.One thing was for sure, though, I wasn’t about to let someone become a victim of their own anguish. I knew this was a bad idea, but I wasn’t sure why my companion decided to cooperate. We broke through the membrane of brush that protected the edge of the forest, and fell on our faces after our forelegs struck a downed branch. We looked ahead of us. Through the twigs and leaves, I saw the grey body of Welded Steel run off into the distance, chasing something we knew he couldn’t catch. His anger and sorrow will destroy him. We pushed ourselves up, deciding whether or not to go after him. My better judgment rejected the idea, but my morals disagreed. My companion and I shook our heads at each other, and turned around to return to the village shuk! I felt my integrated partner go limp, dragging her weight down against me. I struggled to pick her back up, confused and worried. I turned over my shoulder, to understand what was going on. A small dart had punctured the suit of my companion, and stuck out of her rump. She fought to stay on her hooves as well, but it was futile. In seconds, she had passed out. shuk! ---------- Waking to the smell of burning is never pleasant. Especially if the burning is coming from your companion. That was the worst wake-up call I have ever received. I twisted my head to investigate. Deranged were everywhere, surrounding us in a thicker density than at the village. Some had smirks. Others were cackling. Some were licking their lips, as if hungry. We were over a fire, strapped to a stick like a rotisserie chicken. I only question why we weren’t skewered. The flame had come up to lick my companion, but it did not catch. I had to act fast if we were going to get out of this. Against my instinct, I didn’t panic, but I thought it through for a small moment while I nudged her to get up.          After a small moment of coming to her senses, she let out a girlish squeal, of which shook my eardrums. The only response the deranged gave to her pure fright was laughter. I understood my companion’s predicament, but I really didn’t expect her to scream as she did. She seemed too quiet for that. “Rain!” she said, “Do something! Please! I don’t want to end up like my brother!” I needed to act fast, and now. I analyzed my surroundings in a single glance. A pony bent down to blow on the coals of the fire, and it rose a bit. He was unarmed. Two ponies watched, both were armed with sharp fore-hoof mounted blades. Another pony came out of a tent behind them with some gasoline. “Work with me,” I uttered. I telekinetically felt the area around my companion’s neck, but gently. I felt the rapier that she once unsheathed in our battle in the past, and I grasped it. I focused on a horizontal slash at the throats of two of the deranged, and made it happen. The pony blowing the coals suffered a harsher fate: my knife magically thrown into his head from its holster. The pony holding the gas dropped the jug, spilling its contents all over the ground. He turned and sprinted the other way in fright, as if going to get help. Then I got an idea. The seemingly useless spell I learned about air manipulation would actually come in handy. It was difficult and took about fifteen seconds and a lot of straining, but I managed to focus on the air around the fire. A few more seconds later, I limited the oxygen supply of the fire enough to allow it to die out. I then cut the rope that supported us above the camp-sized fire, being careful not to hit the hot coals. That doesn’t mean we landed softly, however. We stopped and thought for a moment. There were enough tents around us for this place to be the heart of their “operations”, so why not see if we could find Kind Wind’s last friend. More than likely, he was here. I couldn’t imagine him to have ended up anywhere else. I’m assuming that Welded ended up somewhere similar, unless he gunned himself out of trouble. “Here’s the plan, we clear this camp, and see if we can find Welded and Cirrus,” I declared to my companion. I had been attached to her for long enough to have an idea as to what she was feeling. She felt weak. Her side of our foreleg felt as though it was about to give out, and let her body fall to the ground. It was a strange feeling coming from her. She nodded jerkily.          “You okay?” I asked. “Uh, yeah. I’m fine. Let’s just get this done.” I was smart to levitate the knife and her rapier to take them out as opposed to using our firearms, as that gave us more time since it made much less noise. First, we checked the tent that the gasoline-carrier came out of. It was only storage, as we thought. Little of interest was here: containers of old knives, gas cans, bones, scissors, lighters, things of that sort. A box in the corner of the room held a random assortment of objects. I peered inside. The contents were dirty, as if aged, and contained mostly knick knacks and bags, stuff I suppose the Deranged didn’t find useful. These ponies were more organized than they looked. On top of the items stuffed in the box, I found a photograph partly burned and torn. I levitated it up, so that the rays of light shining through holes in the tent would allow me to see it better. It was of a tribal chief—it looked to be a younger rendition of Kind Wind—and a creature I’ve never seen before. They were both posing for the photograph next to each other, the creature on two of its legs. They were smiling. They were friends. “What is this thing?” I asked my companion.          She looked at me, with those reflective, stoic lenses. Her unbound foreleg came up, and she looked at it for a brief moment. Then, without warning, she fell over. “Hey, get up, we have to go!” I commanded worriedly and in a loud whisper. She didn’t move. I looked out the tent opening, and saw a Deranged holding something dark grey with his teeth, around fifteen meters from the opening of the tent. That’s when hell broke loose. The stallion’s mouth erupted into a spray of bullets, tearing apart the tent. Before I could get low enough, one of the bullets grazed my flank. It was still sensitive even after its recovery, so the grazing stung like crazy. I threw one of the jugs of gasoline out the gaping flaps in the side tent, away from the spray. I didn’t want an exploding, flaming jug of gas on our hooves. The spray stopped. Sounded as if he were reloading. How’d the hell did they figure out how to use a gun? I took a lighter with my magic. I struck it twice, revealing its constant flame. I levitated it the fifteen meters of distance that separated us from the Deranged stallion, and I shoved the lighter into the ground at his hooves. The ground below him erupted in flames, consuming him and producing a horrible fury of screams and agony. He was standing on the gasoline that was dropped earlier. I knew more would come, so I had to figure out what to do next. Her weight tugging on our shared foreleg felt extremely uncomfortable and somewhat painful. This meant that dragging her would hurt pretty badly. I can half-levitate her with my magic, but I don’t have that much power. I decided to sling her over my shoulder and just walk with one foreleg. I would be horribly off balance, but it will work. Maybe. Before leaving the tent, I sat down and let my mind go back to the photo. I lifted it up to look at it. What was this bird-like creature standing next to the chief? I picked ourselves up, and took the photo with me before hobbling out of the tent, but I made sure that the coast was clear before doing so. I drew a pistol with my magic and held it out in front of me while I made it to a much larger tent. On the side of it, crude lettering read: “JALE”. That’s most likely a Deranged way of spelling “Jail”. Noise and laughter was coming from within the tent. A shrill, psychotic mare’s voice came from within the tent. “Ha!, I bet dey burned reaaal nice!” Cliche for a psychopath, I thought. I adjusted the deadweight more comfortably on my shoulder, and creeped up next to the tent. My eyes scanned the side of it, finding a hole to peek through. I couldn’t see much inside, but I made out a cage in a darker corner of the tent, and two  Deranged ponies in front of it, looking into the cage. They were blocking my view into the contents of the cage, which was about their height, enough room for a pony to stand up and turn around in. They were facing the inside of the cage, looking more towards the bottom of it. “It’s a shame we couldn’t see, but we’ve seen our fair share of tor—” BLAM! BLAM! My gun was pointed through the hole of the tent, and aimed at their brains. Hooray for bullets. Now that the tent had been purged of murderous scum, I cautiously trotted through the opening of the tent. What immediately caught my eye was the captive in the cage. It was the creature from the photograph. She looked at me with wide, frightened eyes. Traumatization had been all over her face, but did not nearly take as much of a toll on her than it did Scarlet Rose. “W—Who are you?” she stuttered. “The girl without enough hooves,” I said, telekinetically searching the messes I made for a key of some sort. To no avail, I sifted through nearly all of the boxes and bags in the tent, subconsciously throwing each to the side when I finished. She looked at me strangely. When I turned to the side, the creature’s face turned to stone in fright. “Is that…?” she uttered while pointed at my companion. “Is that Company—” “Yeah. No time to explain. She’s unconscious and attached to me, and completely harmless. That’s all that matters to you right now.” I threw more containers to the side. “If you’re here to rescue me, just know that I’m not going with a Comp—” “Look, I’m not company, and I’m here to help you. I know Kind Wind.” I gave her the picture. “He sent us to get you.” “Who are you guys? I haven’t seen you around the village before.” “Just two ponies in a predicament. But right now we can’t explain, considering she’s out cold and we have to get you out of here, now.” My voice got more and more tense, and more containers flew. The tent looked like an explosion went off inside it, sending everything in a different direction. “You’re looking for the key, right?” she asked. “Yeah.” “They swallowed it.” “Are you serious?” I asked, frustratedly. “Why the hell would they swallow the key? To torture her? That’s sick!” “Tell me about it. I thought I was going to die here.” I remembered a pair of hedge trimmers I found while rummaging through the shelves in here. I think they would do for this.The bars on the cage seemed thin enough.         “Back up, and hold still.” I opened the trimmers, and slid them into the cage in a way that the bars supporting the lock were between the two blades. All the telekinetic power I could dish out, even at the maximum possible leverage, wasn’t enough to slice it. The creature stuck out her talons to grasp the handle with me, being careful not to be in a position to accidentally cut herself. “One, two, three!” Shrik! Our combined pressure sliced the bar. But we needed to do another cut further down to get the lock off and open the cage. I had no energy to do that. All I wanted to do at this point was sleep. “Amigo!” a voice from behind me called out. I turned to see that it was Welded Steel, standing in the opening of the tent, surprised to see the creature and me. “Cirrus!” “Weld, get over here and help me cut this this thing!” I moved out of the way and sat on some of the cardboard boxes. I needed to carefully think about the plans next. “Weld, is the coast clear?” “Yeah,” he said, while grunting to cut the bar. Shrik! ---------- I slowly came to my senses on top of a mat, sitting on the floor of a place I found familiar. The chief’s tent. I had grown accustomed to the extra weight on my foreleg, but as I stretched, the mass of my companion simply wasn’t there. Confused, I turned to my left, only to see that she wasn’t there. I lifted my previously constrained foreleg and moved it around freely, staring at it in awe. “Haha! Yes!” I exclaimed, probably loud enough for the whole village to hear.  Having the freedom once again of controlling my own foreleg felt amazing, and I had missed it so much. I was too excited to rest any more, even though I probably needed to. I stood up and exited the neglected-looking room to figure out how the hell I got back to the village. I threw open the tarp that served as a door to the entrance of the room, ducking to move through it. I found myself in the main section of Kind Wind’s tent, where we had our meeting with him when we first arrived This time, I was on the other side of the bearskin rug, and the light from the open flap of the tent was blinding. I raised my now free forehoof to block the light and nearly smacked myself in the face. I needed to get accustomed to the lack of weight. I was surprised to find no one else was here, not even Kind Wind. The last thing I remembered was being with Cirrus Cloud and Welded Steel, and carrying the Company assassin. I must have fallen asleep. I wondered if she was okay. She was filled with terror when she awoke from being tranquilized, assuming that’s what happened to us. She also passed out shortly after we got out of the frying pan, so to speak. Just then, Kind Wind came out of a tent flap next to the one I exited. “Hey, good to see you up, sleepyhead,” he said, holding a flask of a clear, blue-green liquid with a forehoof. On the bottom of the hoof, I noticed an emblazoned X. He held the flask by a strap. “Happy to have your leg back?” I nodded gratefully. “Listen, I’m going to need you to relax today, and finish this bottle before you lie down tonight. Don’t drink it all at once, sip on it throughout the day.” I floated the flask into my possession.  “Thank you for everything, Kind Wind. You saved our lives.” “No worries, later we’re going to have a feast tonight, and we will discuss how we’ll get you out of here. I’m not the only one that needs thanking.” I hadn’t thought about leaving here in a while. My mind had been so locked in the now. I haven’t had much time to think about any of that. “Where is she?” I asked. “Who, that mysterious Company mare?” “Yeah.” “She said she needed some time to herself. She left the village about a half hour ago.” He shrugged lazily. It was apparent he whole village had bad blood with the Ironpony Trading Company, and that’s probably why this tribe banded together in the first place. But why didn’t they kill her when she was free from me? “Where did she go?” “Over on the safe side of the village, the opposite side in which you first came here. Don’t worry, there’s nothing except ponds and peace on that side.” I headed out of the tent, and determined that I needed to go right, towards the supposedly safe side of the forest. I grabbed my gear and flask before leaving. The now familiar sounds and smells of the village softened my thought process, thus allowing me to think clearly. I realized that I ended up caring for the assassin. Sure, we helped each other out, but because we were forced to. I cared because of her reaction back at camp. She freaked out,and mentioned the same thing happening to her brother. She reminded me of Pounce in that sense, watching and knowing your family is dying a terrible death before your eyes, and knowing that bandits and psychopaths are doing it purely for enjoyment... I shook the visualization out of my head. I went into the serene-looking forest. No one stopped me, so it had to be safe. And it was. It looked like something you’d read out of a book: verdant ferns, crystal clear ponds, soft grass, all of that good stuff. Crystal clear water. I threw my head in, and drank greedily and merrily. The water was so pure, I almost choked on its quality. It was a hell of a lot better than Industead’s water, that was for sure. I never had anything like it. The water soaking my beaten, stressed mane felt like Heaven. The water felt like the definition of cleanse in the form of water. “Hey,” a metallic voice from behind me said. I snapped out of my girlish trance, flinging my head up and cracking a whip of water behind me. The water-whip landed on my former companion. “Uh, sorry about that,” I said, while embarrassed. I turned around and used a forehoof to scratch the back of my head and get my mane to sit properly. She sat on the forest floor silently, her stoic mask staring me down for a moment. “Well, you ready to kill me yet?” I asked with a hint of bitterness. I took a sip out of the flask. It didn’t taste very good at all. Her gaze penetrated the lush forest floor now. She shook her head. “Thank you,” she said, quietly. My expression softened.  I found myself sitting, too. I had grown to care for her. I couldn’t be angry with her for being an Ironpony. Really, we could be angry at each other for being who we are. To her, I’m bandit scum. To me, she’s Company scum. “You’re welcome.” I didn’t want to ask about it, but I wanted to know more about her and what happened to her brother. She sat, silently, but lifted her head up to face me again. I saw my reflection in the eyes of her mask. I broke the silence. “So what now? You’re pretty much off of Company radar, and I am pretty sure you don’t have much of a way back.” “I could go back. All I have to do is signal for a pickup. I have a built-in global positioning system, you know. Once Company get here, they can pick me up and wipe the village out, should they choose.” I was worried and angry, and I wanted to kill her. Before I could say something back, she spoke again. “But I won’t.” My ears went back and my face softened once more. “Why not? We all hate the Company, and the village is practically build by outcasts and rebels. And your mission is still to kill me, which you have yet to do. You’ve been in a position all along to get yourself out of here. Why haven’t you? And if you have a global position-thing in your mask, why haven’t they shown up here already?” “I switched it off that night we were in the tree. When I thanked you in a way similar to now.” I blinked. Nothing came to my mouth to say, other than this: “You, uh, switched it off?” “Yes.” “Why?” “I didn’t want to be rescued.” “What? But didn’t you want to get out of here? Away from me?” “No. Not by them. I didn’t want to go back to the Company. I was loyal to them because I didn’t have anything or anyone else. You showed me what your life is like. Your adventures. Your feelings, your care. You brought me here. I didn’t thank you because you saved me, Rain. I thanked you because you showed me that the type of ponies I hunted weren’t my worst enemy. They were the ponies I should’ve been with all along.” Now I was really tongue-tied. I didn’t know what to say. Stalling, I took a sip of the flask thought of words to come out of my mouth. “But what about your bitterness with the tribe? Your comments about them?” “I think I was in denial. I couldn’t grasp the concept that I was affiliating myself with enemies, the type of people I’d sworn to kill. ‘Uncivilized’ tribals, is what I used to think of ponies like you and this village, and ponies like Kind Wind. Used to think. I believe I misunderstood what the Company’s real purpose was. Not that I would ever know.” She also had a flask, similar to mine. She took a drink. I’ve wondered what their purpose was for the longest time as well. I figured it was just a mail service that dominated the area, but I am really starting to see how they are truly everywhere, swallowing up what they can. “What now?” I asked. “I want to see how Kind Wind is going to get the two of us to Baltimare.” I was happy but skeptical. I suppose she could come, but I am still unsure whether she is to be trusted or not. I’ll have a private word with Kind Wind about it later, although I was sure his bias would give me an answer I wasn’t looking for. I wanted to ask her to take off her mask, but I didn’t want to prod in an area that wasn’t appropriate at the time. She had already poured out quite a few of her secrets on me. I wondered how many more secrets she had. ---------- “—so, I turn around after snapping off da bar, and she and her amigo are passed out on the pile of boxes!” Welded said, while laughing and trying to eat food all at the same time. Cirrus Cloud, turning from Welded Steel, began to continue the story. “So I climb out, trying to stretch, and accidentally knock Weld in the face with my wing! He staggers and trips over Rain—” She interrupted herself with her own laughter. Her lightly talon pounded the mat we were eating on. “—Falling on ‘em! It was hilarious!” Weld finished. My heart sank and I found myself blushing. “Aw, Rain, we aren’t laughing at ya.” Cirrus assuringly and gently punches my shoulder. “Just a funny turn of events is all. We’re all just a bunch of clumsy heroes. Except me. I’m just clumsy.” She finished the last sentence with some snickering. “Ha, I know.” I levitated the apple from my plate and took a bite. The purity and the freshness of the apple nearly made me gag. It was delicious. We were having the feast in Kind Wind’s tent. The five of us, Weld, Cirrus, Kind Wind, my ex-companion, and I, were there. Kind Wind set out a large square rug in place of the bearskin that is usually in the center. He covered it in a large tablecloth, and set out plates, silverware, and an assortment of fresh vegetables and fruits, and some meats for Cirrus. We each had our own plate with our own selections of these. The assassin sat to my left, on the same side of the rug that I was on. On the right edge of the square was Weld, and on the opposite side of him was Cirrus. We were opposite Kind Wind, who sat by himself of the so-called head of the rug. “Sorry if we were deadweights to drag back to camp. I didn’t mean to be a nuisance.” “Naw, it’s cool. I flew you two back to camp.” “What?” I said, surprised. I suppose I forgot she had wings and could fly. “Yeah. I just put you guys on my back, flew back to the village, and came back for Weld.” I looked at Weld. He just gave a conventional nod as he chewed on some lettuce.I flew. I was flying through the air, and didn’t get to experience it. Over the course of half an hour, many things were discussed and joked about. One of which that was discussed was what Cirrus Cloud was. They explained to me that she was a species known as Griffon. Griffons are half eagle and half lion, taking the form factor of the latter but the look and functionality of the former. Another thing discussed was how I would get to Baltimare. I insisted very simple rewards, as I felt like I did not deserve too much. “Nonsense,” they told me, and they insisted that I have something called a teleport rune. Runes are basically stones infused with magic, usually from very long ago, according to Kind Wind. They contain very powerful pre-fabricated spells when used, and anypony can use them. The problem is that they can only be used once. After that, they’re as good as rocks. The one that he gave me was of a spell that allowed me and anyone else in my vicinity to teleport almost anywhere in Equestria, as long as there wasn’t a magic-deterrent barrier guarding the location. Cirrus spoke, with a tone and expression of surprise. “Kind Wind, you’re giving her that? But that—” “Yes, I know,” he interjected, patting his mouth with a handkerchief, “but it’s not of any use to me. The Company didn’t have a use for it either, but I didn’t want them to have something of such power.” “But that’s one of the last things from your days as an Ironpony,” Cirrus stated. “Wouldn’t getting rid of it be a good omen, then? I no longer have Company affiliation, and I do not choose to.” “True. I was just concerned, because I knew it had value to you,” Cirrus stated, understandingly. I was confused. The assassin and I looked at each other blankly. “Um, what are we talking about here?” I asked. Kind Wind spoke. “I was part of the Ironpony Trading Company several years ago.” Cirrus interjected. “Wind—” “No, it’s fine, I think our new friends should know.” He took a sip of his drink before continuing. “I used to be an arms merchant for the Trading Company during my youth. I sold and delivered arms to different towns and cities headed by Mayors or other ranks of rulers.” There that word was again. Mayor. So they did have some kind of universal ruling system. “I was quite acquainted with Lord Ironclad, the president himself. I was in the Manehattan Company embassy one morning, organizing deals with weapon manufacturers for Lord Ironclad, when I heard a couple rumors coming from some of my co-workers. I made the mistake of confirming that for them, saying ‘yeah, he is pretty shady’. It was a mistake because everyone knew I knew him more personally than others.” “Ironclad had me branded.” He lifted his forehoof. “Branded and jailed for several days. The brand means that I had done wrong by the company. The X symbolizes exile.” He paused again, reflecting. “I am glad he jailed me. It gave me a lot of time to clear my head and think what I really needed to be doing. Cirrus Cloud’s mother contacted me around a week before, wondering if I could help her tribe. I told her I didn’t help tribals. I didn’t want to have affiliation with ‘filthy’ tribals and bandits. But jail time made me realize. The real filth was the company. I knew of the tyranny of the cities and even small towns built and owned by Industead, and even the ghost town of Ponyville that had strangely received a mayor.” “I’ve been through there. It’s not a ghost town. I met some bandits living in Twilight’s library.” I wanted to contribute. “Ah, see? Might as well be a ghost town. No one goes outside because they are either bandits or are afraid of them.” Kind Wind held two hooves up, using them to represent the two parties of ponies he spoke of. “Back to the story,” he said. “When I got released from jail, I was a new pony. I returned to the griffon I spoke to previously, and promised her the whole shipment of weapons that the Ironpony manufacturers made. She took them back to this very village, in large groups at a time. She didn’t care that it was too much on her body. She didn’t care that by the time she delivered all of the weapons to fight the Deranged with, she was exhausted beyond measure.” A tear shed from Cirrus’s eye, and the room fell to a deadly silence. “She died from over-exhaustion, but she delivered the full shipment, along with me. She chose me to be the new chief of her tribe, as I wanted to escape the Trading Company as much as I possibly could. I had all tracking sensors removed. I prevented any traces. I knew how to bypass the embassy’s radar. I simply vanished. To this day, neither Ironclad nor anyone else in the Company has figured out where I am.” He paused for a second. He turned to the assassin.”Except you.” “But that’s alright,” he continued. The two of you helped us out more than we could have asked for. And I know the Company well enough to know that you would’ve shot us in the back when you had the chance. By now, you should know that the Company wouldn’t have wasted the resources to come get you.” “Yes, I know this now. I understand them better. I’ve had more time to think these past two days than I ever had. I turned my tracking off to simulate death. You’re not the only one that vanished,” she explained. “I haven’t been able to think more clearly in my whole life. You were right to leave, Kind Wind, I respect that. I have decided to do the same. I want to go with Rain to Baltimare.” I looked at her, admiringly. I believe she had made the right decision. In the eyes of her mask, I saw the reflection of the face of Kind Wind. “Well, that’s a good decision on your part. It’s one we’re all glad you made, but we hope you stick to it. I can see it in you that you have a big heart. Your motives might be unaware to us, but I know they’re of good intentions.” Kind Wind paused to take a bite, then made a bizarre statement. A statement that has been engraved in my mind ever since I fell off of the humvee. “They say the eyes are the windows to the soul. The problem is that I can’t see yours. I only see myself when I look at you. Fitting, but not what we all want to see, given our rough circumstances.” He took a small bite and swallowed. “Do us one last favor. Would you take off your mask, introduce yourself, and maybe eat something?” “I would feel terrible since I haven’t done so thus far,” she said. “Trust me when I say we’d feel terrible if you didn’t.” She sat as still as a statue for a moment. “You’re right. I apologize for being such an ass these past few days. I’ve been feeling torn, but it’s no excuse.” Her face fell towards the floor. Both of her forehooves came up to sides of the mask as she shifted her weight to her haunches. She pulled forward, knocking her desperado hat off of her head and behind her, supported by a string that was around her neck. The mask came off, revealing a pony of dark grey skin, almost black, and piercing, cerulean-colored eyes. Her mane was exposed when she pulled off the part of her suit that covered it. The mane was composed entirely of spikes and midnight blue. The back of it faded into black. “Obsidian Blossom,” she said. ---------- Departure. It was morning. The sleep felt fantastic, and seeing Obsidian Blossom’s was reassuring, and a full stomach made me feel new again. Kind Wind insisted I take the rune, but Cirrus insisted I not use it yet. She gave me an extra saddlebag to hold it in, and insisted that I let her fly me to Baltimare, and I simply couldn’t refuse. That’s just too exciting! I visited Welded Steel at his shop, to thank him and say my goodbyes. He gave me a hug, and told me to keep in touch. He also went into a behind the counter. After a bit of rummaging, he pulled out an odd-looking pistol, which glowed white faintly in some areas of it, and gave it to me. He told me it was one of his most prized possessions, but not worth more than his friends. “Dis gun,” he explained, “I got from a peace-loving society in da northwest. It’s a magical weapon and tells you your mood, based on the glowing parts.” I thanked him for everything, and started for the tent flap. “Don’t trust anyone from de Company, even dat Obsidian girl. Watch your back, amigo,” he warned. I took the advice to heart. I placed it in the bag with the rune and walked out, giving Welded a smile and a wave. The departure point was in the middle of town. Obsidian Blossom, now unmasked, sat next to Cirrus and was chatting her up. Villagers greeted and thanked me subtly as I walked past, but still eyed Obsidian suspiciously. I walked up to Obsidian, and sat in front of her. “Ready to go?” I asked. “Yes,” she replied. It was good to finally see a positive expression when I look at her face rather than to see my own. “Yeah, I’m all saddled up,” Cirrus said, checking her harness. “You guys are going to be attached to my back, just to be safe. You’re also going to have parachutes, in case I go down. That way, we’ll all be able to land safely no matter what.” Turning to the each of us, she strapped us up with a harness and a parachute. It was a decent fit, but it didn’t feel like it constrained me much at all. It was extremely rugged, and I knew for a fact it wasn’t going to give in to anything. Then we mounted her back, and strapped ourselves in. Obsidian Blossom was in front with me behind her. Cirrus put on a pair of goggles and gave an O.K. signal with her talon. “Ready to go?” she asked. “Yep!” I said. I was more than ready. I couldn’t wait to experience what it was like to fly! I was a kid in a candy store. Obsidian didn’t seem nearly as excited, but I could see from the corner of her mouth that she was smiling a little. We lurched forward. Cirrus forced herself and us a few steps towards the edge of the village, where the forest entrance we first emerged out of was. Her steps were swift, effective, and powerful. Her almost angelic wingspan outstretched itself after a few of these steps. Their opening shook the world, manipulating the air surrounding us. We hadn’t even left, and I was already feeling the wind rushing through my mane. And then, the take off. While she shoved forward, I felt the wind gather beneath the griffon’s wings. She slammed her wings downward, surging us upward! I got an uncanny, thrilling enjoyment from it as we soared each meter higher. With more flaps of her wings, the villagers below transformed from ponies to mice, from mice to crickets, and from crickets to ants. My eyes wanted to look at everything, take in everything at once. I wanted to be one of those circular security cameras that Industead had, so I could see and record everything so I could look at it over and over again. The village eventually became non-existent. The rivers were blue ribbons, dropped carelessly in a forest-green puddle that was the surrounding forest. I remember when I had to quit looking this magnificent scenery from the road… but now even the road was just a ribbon. I saw the cliff where my life was supposed to end. I was flying over it now. I thought of Red, the Remnants, and their shared message: To rise from nothing and spread your wings. Each day, I was understanding its meaning more and more. Gradually, we approached the too-familiar biome I grew up in: the desert. It was eerie, flat, completely clear, but majestic. I had grown accustomed to the heat, so I could focus my full attention on the pure beauty of the rolling dunes of the scenery. A few cacti were scattered here and there, acting as blemishes to the purity of the landscape. After a bit of flight, nothing could be seen from any direction. The vastness of the desert and the witnessing of it from this height was simply unreal. I felt as though I was having an unorthodox dream about being alone, but at the same time not at all. The feeling of the soft feathers of Cirrus and wind rushing through my mane both comforted me, even if the wind made me realize how filthy my hair and fur actually were. I floated the pistol that Welded gave me out in front of me, and examined the magical lights strewn on different pieces of the gun. They glowed a bright, warm orange that stood out against their background—the cold, black suit of Obsidian’s. I assumed that the orange meant that I was happy or excited, and carefully swapped it out with Obsidian’s holstered pistol. After a minute or so, the orange lights on the pistol faded into what was now a deep, vibrant purple. It puzzled me, as I couldn’t figure out what emotion that represented. I replaced the pistol with her own. An hour or so of glorious travel passed. A looming structure in the desert could be seen, and took shape as we neared it. I made sense of it one building after another as each grew larger. The desert was as clear as it could ever be, without sandstorms or the like that Industead was known to be affected by, so it was easily possible to see details on the buildings once they were in sight. Then, when we were getting within landing distance, we could see ponies on the streets. We descended for landing. The air rushing through my hair now pushed upward as we went downward. Cirrus did this rapidly, and it felt like I would come out of my harness. She slowed well before we hit land, and gently came down on the edge of the city, where the road faded into the ground of the desert, being covered in small, scattered blotches and piles of sand. We detached ourselves from the harnesses, and unmounted Cirrus. The demounting was awkward, since I had been flying for well over an hour, which I am definitely not used to. I nearly fell on my rump. The trip here wasn’t the only thing that was intoxicating. The size of the buildings, no: towers, was positively massive. Too large. I wondered what anypony would ever need such large buildings for. The road was wide, complete with sidewalks. A custodian earth pony was smiling at us warmly while brushing sand off the road. Ponies could be seen behind him, bustling about at an intersection, still surrounded by buildings of various sizes and purposes. Ponies went into and out of them. I smiled back and waved at the custodian, then turned to the size of the buildings once more. I suddenly realized I was on the right path to the kind of life I wanted to live in Equestria. Exploring the world, making friends. Going on adventures, even if I should have been killed by Deranged or bandit rapists. But, as my mother always said, it’s better than a poke in the eye with a sharp stick, which has yet to happen to me. Baltimare.