I was alone in the kitchen the next morning, washing my hooves in the sink before I started preparing breakfast for everypony; I wanted to do one last thing to help before I left that afternoon. Needless to say I would be preparing something with apples, I found it bizarre that Applejack and her family could eat almost nothing else and never get sick of them. While I was making a start, Big Mac came in through the back door, already having been outside working since the break of dawn. He pulled a carton of orange juice from the fridge and sat down at the table, pouring himself a glass.
“It’s hard work, livin’ on a farm,” he said randomly after he finished his glass.
“I’ve gathered that,” I replied, glancing back over my shoulder at him. “First those deserters, now this. I bet you miss the days before the war, back when this kind of thing never happened.”
“Eyup,” he said, pouring another glass. “But give it time, things are bad now, but they’ll get better. As long as we have ponies like you, workin’ to make it so.”
I blushed slightly at the compliment, glad I had my back to him. Before I could reply, Granny Smith called down the stairs for Big Mac to come up and help her with something.
“If ah don’t see you before you leave,” Mac began, gulping down his orange juice and standing up. “Good luck out there, and like AJ said, don’t let those Rebel guys bully you into doin’ anything you don’t wanna.”
My head snapped around just as he left the kitchen, I wondered if he had overheard Applejack and I talking or if she had told him. Either way I probably should have been annoyed at the invasion of privacy, but I was touched to know he cared about that.
“Why are all the good ones gay?” I muttered to myself, smirking as I peeled apples.
“Who’s gay?” a small voice said from beside me.
I jumped slightly in surprise, glad I was holding the peeler with my magic rather than my hoof. I looked down to see that Scootaloo was standing next to me.
“Oh, nobody,” I replied quickly. “I was just making a joke.”
“Oh, okay,” Scootaloo said before brightening up. “Do you want some help?”
“Um…” I started, wondering if she shouldn’t be resting.
“I tried asking the others,” Scootaloo continued. “But they’re all busy with... the others, I don’t really know how to help with that, but I’m pretty good at cooking.”
“You’re looking awfully chipper Scootaloo,” I pointed out, reaching down and feeling her forehead. “Wouldn’t you rather be resting?”
“That’s what the others said,” Scootaloo mumbled, looking put off. “But I’m fine, really!”
I looked past her eager eyes at the two bandaged nubs on her back, wiggling irregularly.
“Don’t worry about those,” Scootaloo said, noticing what I was looking at. “Doesn’t hurt a bit, not even when they…”
Scootaloo froze and her face paled as she remembered exactly what happened, I guessed she was trying to repress it.
“It really doesn’t hurt?” I asked, completely bewildered at the notion.
“Not for me at least,” Scootaloo replied, glancing up at the ceiling, a concerned look on her face. “Don’t tell the others that, they might… hate me for it.”
“Why would they hate you?” I asked, confused by such a notion.
“Because I didn’t suffer like they did,” Scootaloo explained in a low murmur. “And I know they did, I remember their screams when it happened.”
“But you didn’t?” I asked again, leaning down to her.
“No, I could hardly feel it,” Scootaloo said in a despondent tone. “First time my… condition ever helped me.”
“What condition was that?” I asked, not sure if I should be probing so much this soon after the incident, but she seemed to be taking it well.
“My wings were never properly formed,” Scootaloo told me, giving a slightly angry look at her back as her nubs wiggled some more. “They were small, feeble, the doctor said they’d never grow properly and I’d never be able to…”
Scootaloo clenched her eyelids shut for a few seconds, holding back tears. When she opened them again there was no trace of them and she carried on talking like it hadn’t happened.
“But I could also hardly feel them,” she continued. “So when those… ponies cut them off, it hurt a bit, but nowhere near as bad as it was for the others.”
“Well I’m sorry to hear about your condition,” I began sincerely. “But I’m happy you’re not in any pain. And while the others may be in a lot of pain, I’m sure they won’t resent you for it.”
I regretted saying that, how was I supposed to know whether they would resent her or not, they were in agony and ponies could be very irrational when they’re in pain.
“But Scootaloo, are you sure you’re not… upset about anything else?” I asked slowly. “It was a terrible ordeal even if it didn’t hurt you as much, and… a lot of ponies died.”
“You think I care about my foster mother,” Scootaloo stated, suddenly sounding very bitter. “Well I’m not, I never cared about her and she never cared about me.”
“I’m sure that’s not entirely…” I began, a little disturbed by the filly’s sudden anger.
“It is true!” Scootaloo snapped, interrupting me. “You want to know how she died back there? When they came for us, she tried to escape on her own, she was going to leave without me!”
“Ponies do stupid things when they’re scared,” I tried to explain.
“Yeah, well her stupid thing got her head chopped off,” Scootaloo replied, shuddering at the memory. “I don’t care about her, she meant nothing to me.”
Without much thought or consideration I reached out and pulled Scootaloo into a hug, still making sure to avoid her bandages.
“Well you’re safe now,” I told her in a firm voice. “And we aren’t going to let anything bad happen to you.”
“Um… thank you Rarity,” Scootaloo replied in an awkward, yet honest voice. “I never did thank you three for saving me, and looking after me here… Everypony is so nice, and Applebloom’s really cool.”
“Well get used to it,” I said, pulling back. “Because you can stay here as long as you want. So, you wanted to help me cook?”
Together Scootaloo and I prepared apple pancakes for everypony in the house, which by that point totalled up to sixteen ponies. Needless to say, Applejack was forced to retract her offer of allowing my parents and sister to come and stay. I didn’t mind in the slightest, after the incident in Pivot I was damn sure my family wasn’t coming back to Panchea for a while yet. That conversation did raise an awkward point, mainly that I hadn’t yet written a letter to them. They wouldn’t be worried yet as they knew it took three weeks for any mail to travel across the sea, but it wouldn’t be long before the worry began to settle in.
I would have to bring that up with Maverick as well as the Pivot situation when I met up with him, if anyone had the money and authority to get a letter to Equestria, it would be him. Once we had delivered everypony’s breakfast to their respective rooms, I sat back at the kitchen table with the Apple family and Scootaloo, Grass Snake eating her with the other fillies in their room.
“So you be careful out there missy,” Granny Smith said with a mouth full pancakes. “And if things start to look too dangerous, you run straight back here, you hear?”
“I will,” I assured her. “There’s only so much trouble I can get myself into before I have to draw a line.”
“And if your friend doesn’t think that helping the ponies of Pivot is a good use of his time,” Applejack added in a stern voice. “Then you give him a buck from me.”
“I will certainly try if I think it won’t get me killed,” I replied, noticing the curious looks from some of the others at the table.
Once the plates were cleared up and the Apples were already filling out to deal with their various chores, including Scootaloo who went with Applebloom to tend to the sheep, I made my way upstairs to the spare room where Grass Snake and the fillies were. There was a very solemn atmosphere in the room when I arrived, Caramel smiled up at me but the other two didn’t even acknowledge my presence, an awful change from the three fillies I remember giving me the adorable puppy eyes when I tried to leave their house the first time.
“Hello Rarity,” Grass Snake greeted in a tired voice. “Thank you for the breakfast, everypony loved it.”
I noticed that Pixie Dust and Emerald had hardly touched their own plates.
“No problem,” I replied, deciding not to comment on it. “I was just about to head on.”
“Oh, one moment,” Grass Snake said, standing up from the bed and making her way to the door where I stood.
We both stepped out into the hallway and she closed the door behind her before turning to face me.
“Thank you again for everything you’ve done Rarity,” she began sincerely.
“How are they?” I asked, nodding towards the closed door.
“Not good,” Grass Snake admitted, biting her lip. “Pixie especially, but Emerald’s fever is getting worse.”
“The doctor will be here soon,” I reminded her.
“I think they’re hurting in ways no doctor can heal,” Grass Snake said in a pathetic voice, staring at her own hooves. “When I took them in I thought I could protect them, but now they’re suffering more than ever and there’s nothing I can do to help.”
“You can be there for them,” I replied firmly. “You’ve been like a mother to those fillies, and now they need you more than ever.”
“The things those monsters did to them…” Grass Snake murmured, growling slightly. “How can I ever make them forget about that?”
“I guess you can’t,” I admitted. “But then forgetting and coming to terms with something are different things. Sure it’s hard now, it might be for a long time, but you’ll get there… someday… together.”
“Thanks,” Grass Snake said, wiping her eyes dry. “To think I used to be a zoologist.”
We shared a brief chuckle at that before her smile faded again.
“They won’t talk about Lock Pick,” she informed me. “What exactly happened? They didn’t… see it happen did they?”
“When the slavers took them,” I began in an uncomfortable voice. “He tried to stop them, but they beat him down and dragged him away. They didn’t see him… go, but by the time I caught up with him, it was too late.”
Not exactly a lie, but I didn’t have it in me to admit to what I had done, at least not to Grass Snake.
“I hope…” Grass Snake said, sniffing. “I hope they didn’t make it too… painful for him. At least he’s at peace now; they can’t hurt him anymore, him or Granny Willow.”
“They’d both be happy to know that you’re all alive and safe,” I told her.
“He did adore those girls,” Grass Snake agreed with a small nod. “They probably reminded him of his…”
She stopped talking when she realised what she was about to reveal, although I knew she was referring to his son I couldn’t let on that I knew, lest it raise awkward questions about when he told me.
“So you’re leaving?” Grass Snake asked. “Back to your house in Port Mule?”
“Uh, not quite,” I replied, not wishing to get into that story. “But I am going to Mule for a bit to see some… business associates. I’ll be coming back here whenever I’m done, so you’ll see me soon enough.”
“Well you stay safe out there,” Grass Snake said, pulling me into a hug. “After everything you’ve done for me and the girls, I couldn’t bear to think of something bad happening to you.”
When Grass Snake returned to her room, I began walking down the hallway, stopping when the door behind me burst open and Caramel came rushing out, throwing her forelegs around my neck.
“Thank you for saving us,” she said, burying her face in my mane. “My sisters appreciate it too… even if it’s hard to say. You’ll come back soon, won’t you?”
“Of course I will,” I told her. “I still owe you three dresses I believe.”
Once Caramel returned to her room I made my way downstairs and out the front door, walking through the front yard just as Applejack came out of the blacksmiths.
“You headin’ off?” She asked, removing her apron.
“I am,” I replied, noticing the look on her face. “I’ll be careful, I promise.”
“Okay, okay,” Applejack said, raising a hood defensively. “Ah believe you, you’re definitely gettin’ better at using those weapons at least.”
I glanced down at my rapier and set of knives, all of which I had cleaned meticulously along with my clothes.
“I just hope I don’t need to use them much more,” I stated honestly. “The day I can put these away for good will not be a sad day.”
“Ah agree,” Applejack said solemnly, looking over at her claymore which was leaning against the anvil in the centre of her room behind her. “That will be the day.”
After a quick hug, Applejack went back to work and I went on my way down the lane. As I reached the exit I saw Applebloom, Scootaloo and Winona trying to round up the sheep in the field to my left. I gave them a wave before I carried on which they both returned enthusiastically, I was happy that they had taken so quickly to one another as I walked away. I also wondered if, when my family did finally make it over, would Sweetie Belle fit in just as well, I was sure the three would make a great team.
As I began walking south, clouds started building overhead. The dry spell had lasted so long; we were well overdue for a proper rain. It made me wonder how Panchea ever managed without controlling the weather the same way they did in Equestria, the randomness of it all was surely difficult for the farmers. Perhaps when all the madness and chaos was behind us, when order had been restored to the country, real change could start being made. A railway would be good, growing up I never realised how tedious all the walking between towns and cities was until I moved to Equestria and discovered just how expedient having trains was.
The last time Applejack and I had made this trip, we reached the river before we had to stop and set up camp, but we had set off first thing in the morning. Since I hadn’t left until early afternoon, I ended up waking well into the night. I wasn’t too tired, and was well supplied this time, so I decided to just keep going until I reached the bridge, assuming it had been rebuilt. It turned out to be a wise move on my part, continuing to travel through the night as I reached the woods on the edge of the river shortly after the rain began to fall.
I was a little wet, but I managed to reach the shelter of the canopy before it started lashing down. I decided to walk just a little further and find out if the bridge was reconstructed before I stopped to rest, at least that way I would go to sleep knowing roughly when I would reach Mule come morning. If the bridge hadn’t been rebuilt, I would have been very surprised, the Liberators seemed to be quite efficient when it came to fixing things up, the buildings in the Merchant District were evidence of that even if the Botanic District was not.
As the case was, there was brand new bridge waiting for me when I reached the river, but more than that, there was a small wooden hut on the opposite bank, a light shining through its window. Curious, I began making my way over the bridge to the hut, wondering who could be inside. As I crossed the bridge, I was able to make out four banners standing at each of the corners, bearing the Liberator’s sigil of the hoof smashing the sun. Clearly Maverick hadn’t finished off the Liberators since I left after all, I did wonder what progress had actually been made in my absence.
As I neared the hut, a dark figure in the window moved, he must have seen me because the next thing he vanished from the window and the door to the hut opened and he stepped out. He was wearing the dark plate armour of the Liberators, but something about him seemed familiar to me.
“Travelling a bit late, aren’t you?” he pointed out, sheltering his head from the rain. “Do you want to stop inside?”
“That would be lovely, thank you,” I replied, wary that I might get recognised if I stepped into the light.
“I really hope you’re not here to cause trouble,” the stallion said as he let me enter the warmth of the hut. “I’ve been posted here ever since they fixed up the bridge, haven’t had one problem yet, I’d like to keep it that way.”
“Well I assure you I’m just travelling to Mule on business,” I told him. “The last thing I want to do is cause trouble for you.”
The stallion invited me to sit down at the table next to the window where he had been when I arrived.
“Well I’m glad to hear that,” he said, pulling out two tin cups and a water jug. “I have to watch this place to make sure nopony tries to destroy it again, like I’d be able to stop them if they tried. Drink?”
“Please,” I replied, accepting the cup and taking a sip. “I came by here when the bridge was out, I was helping to make a delivery and having to trek down to that temporary bridge was not fun.”
“Tell me about it,” the stallion agreed with a small laugh. “I was posted over at the bridge for a while…”
He stopped laughing suddenly, as if he just noticed something about me.
“Is there a problem?” I asked, worried that I had just been recognised.
“No, it’s just…” he began before standing up and walking over to a desk where he picked up a scrap of paper.
I began sliding off my chair slowly, getting ready to bolt for the door.
“White unicorn…” he read. “Curly, purple mane… Blue eyes… Blue jacket, boots, carries a sword!”
I sprung to my hooves, dashing for the door. To my surprise he didn’t try to pursue me, instead he just called after me, but his voice didn’t sound aggressive, it sounded almost… pleading.
“Wait, don’t go!” He shouted out just as I exited the hut back into the pouring rain.
For some reason, despite how stupid and dangerous it was, his tone made me stop and look back.
“Please, come back in,” he pleased. “I’m not your enemy, I won’t arrest you.”
I was hesitant, but something about him seemed sincere enough that I made my way back into the hut, although I still kept a close eye on him, readying myself in case it turned out to be a trap.
“Sorry, I should have realised that would startle you,” he began awkwardly. “You’re a member of the Rebellion, aren’t you?”
“You already know that much,” I said, gesturing towards the note on the desk.
“Yeah, you’re like…” he began, thinking of the right words. “Port Mule’s most wanted.”
“Great,” I grumbled, that was going to make getting in a pain. “So why aren’t you going to arrest me?”
“Why? Because I hate the Liberators!” the stallion exclaimed. “I used to be in the Rebellion myself, but when Typhoon split off, my whole unit went over to his side. We weren’t even asked, we were just told one day that we worked for him and only him, and apparently our new mission was to take over Equestria! Now I’m stuck with them because my brother and his family live in Mule, if I deserted they might take it out on him.”
“Huh, I always wondered why there were so many Liberators,” I commented. “Are there many who got forced to join?”
“More than most ponies would think,” the stallion replied. “My name’s Spoon Bender by the way.”
“Rarity,” I replied, shaking his hoof and choosing not to question his name when he was a pegasus.
“For a while you were all anybody could talk about,” Spoon Bender informed me. “Nopony really knows the details, all we heard was that somepony threw a bomb at Typhoon’s face and ruined some big secret plan he was hatching.”
“You don’t know about the plan?” I asked curiously.
“I’ve heard rumours about an underground dungeon and Typhoon making monsters,” Spoon replied. “But like I said, nopony really knows what’s going on.”
“What about Typhoon?” I asked, a little more eager this time. “Is he… alive?”
“Oh yeah, but few see him anymore,” Spoon replied before shuddering. “Whatever you did to him left a mark, and he has not been happy about it.”
“So the entire guard is on the lookout for me,” I muttered to myself thoughtfully.
“Well they were, but things have relaxed recently,” Spoon explained. “I guess everypony assumed you’d never come back.”
“Well I’m back now, and I need to get back into Mule,” I told him.
“Are you going to help with a secret attack or something?” Spoon asked, sounding almost excited by the prospect.
“I hope not,” I replied. “As long as the Liberators don’t pose any immediate threat to this country or Equestria, then I’m not about to do anything rash. No, something terrible has happened in Pivot and I need to get to my allies and warn them.”
“Really?” Spoon asked, clearly worried by the seriousness of his tone. “It must be bad if you’re going to risk returning to Mule to find help.”
“Well at this point I think the Rebels have the best chance of saving the city,” I explained. “But now I need to figure out a new way into the city.”
“I might be able to help with that,” Spoon began slowly, to which I stared in surprise. “Like I said, I hate Typhoon and the Liberators, and since you’re with the Rebellion, you might be able to do something for me in return.”
“Depends on what it is,” I replied.
“It’s nothing over the top, don’t worry,” he assured me before continuing. “I just need you to explain to your officer or whoever you report to, that if you’re ever going to try and take down the Liberators once and for all, some of us are still loyal to the Rebellion, and many more are just serving because they have nowhere else to go. So what I’m asking is… please don’t kill us, I know I’ll just surrender if a battle ever starts.”
“I’m sure my superiors will be glad to hear that,” I told him. “The fewer unnecessary casualties, the better, however if I’m to deliver that message to them I need to get into the city safely.”
“Don’t worry,” he said, giving me a wink. “I have just the thing.”