//------------------------------// // Chapter XII - Telling Stories // Story: Fallout : Equestria - New Roam Innovatus // by Delvius //------------------------------// Chapter XII Telling Stories “There is only one good, knowledge, and one evil, ignorance.” Alright, alright. Here we go! Take a seat, Delvius. Time for a trip down memory lane, eh? ... Delvius? What, you aren't excited or something? Speak up, dude! Um... uh. Huh. Well, I see what Goldwreath meant about you having some style of sorts. I normally just let my interviewees tell their story. Psht. That's boring. Oh, sure, I can see Goldwreath and Myst going on like that. One's got an ego and the other... well, doesn't. But come on, dude. We're friends. No point keeping things cold. I talk and you talk, that's how we do this. Alright? Hah. Well, I'll try to keep up. What's the worse that could happen? Could be fun. That's what I like to hear! Alright, now let's get to it. Where are we up to now, again? Oh, oh I remember now! Second day in Roam. Okay, right, so I woke up. And my head was pounding, my mouth filled with this weird-ass aftertaste. That's what I got for drinking too much, I guess. My body didn't feel right, and the stiff mattress beneath me didn't help. For a few minutes, I think, I just laid there and took some deep breaths. Hangovers ain't no joke. So for the first-time drinkers out there, just... don't. Moderation, kids. Take it from me. When I finally did sit up -- and I immediately regretted it, cause it felt like the blood drained from my brain, leaving my head hollow and light -- I almost fell back down. And, you know, that's when you showed up. And...? Hm? And? When I showed up... oh, oh right! Well, uh, I saw you looking ready to pass out and rushed over to keep you up. I remembered how cold you were to me the first time we met, and I was damn sure you didn't remember me when you were in the middle of that party. So I thought, 'I need make a good impression this time around.' What can I say, being given the cold shoulder didn't sit well with me. You know how that is. Uhuh, yup. So there you were, holding me up. Geez, I remember giving you a stare, my headache making way for a ton of confusion. I looked you over and was like, "The fuck are you doing, holding me like that?" and shook myself free. See, the day before, when I flew into the camp, I was feeling better about things -- but, like, not that much better. I was level-headed just enough to feel curious. So when I saw some zebras tearing it up around that fire, drinking and laughing, I thought, 'Damn, I need to unwind.' And there were drinks, so why the hell not, right? That they were friendly enough and seemed to share my curiosity helped. Still, I got no memory of how that party went. Everything's just a blur, even now. So, yeah, I got defensive. I didn't expect to see you. Well, I kept my distance during the party. I watched you cause I had nothing better to do -- and that's not sad at all, I swear. I'd done all I had to do, so I had time to kill. When things wound down and your fellow partygoers had laid you down in the bunk, I thought it'd be good for you to wake up to the sight of someone you at least sort of knew. So I slept in that chair next your bed, and thought little else of what might happen. Of course, that lack of thought didn't prepare me for you acting all apprehensive. Again. So when you shook me off I felt like shit, wondering if I'd been stupid to think I could change your opinion of me. Yeah, I saw it on your face. Honestly, after a while, I thought maybe I was being a little too harsh on you. To begin with, I'd only snubbed you the day before cause I was a mopey bitch and my thoughts were clouded with all sorts of emotional crap. So actually, on that day, the hangover aside, I really was feeling better about things. I remember turning to you, feeling guilty. Now, I didn't really know how to start repairing whatever feelings of yours I'd hurt, so I just went, "What're you doing here, Delvius?" And you should remember, I didn't ask it in a polite tone. I wouldn't put it past you to have felt like I was being hostile or something. Well, your tone definitely didn't help. But you spoke to me and that was what mattered. Even if I didn't feel as eager to continue, I knew I hadn't failed just yet. So I soldiered on, explaining myself -- how I saw you getting drunk and thought, 'This mare needs to be watched over.' So I did. It just felt right. Something could've happened, and if I heard about it the next day, knowing I could've prevented it, well... You'd guilt yourself over it? Oh yeah. Oh you. You're pretty soft on the inside, ain'tcha? Well anyway, I got convinced. Okay, not convinced convinced, but at that point I figured if you were gonna go to such lengths to keep an eye on me, I could at least stop snubbing you. I had a pretty big smile on my face when you finally said I was okay afterall. Eh, I'll tell you now what I didn't say then. My 'graciousness' wasn't all that hard for me to give. Hell, I'd told Goldwreath just the day before that he was alright and shit, and that stallion knocked me out and tied me to a pole. Well, whatever, you know? I'd gotten sick of harboring distrust and all that negative emotional crap inside of me. I guess, looking back at it all, I can say that my quickness to make friends was me subconsciously wanting to stop being such a whiny cunt. Wah, the Enclave kicked us out; wah, why can't you guys understand why I had to do this? Ugh. Well, all I cared for at the time was that you finally weren't tearing into me with those eyes. My relationship with Goldwreath at that time was, like... cold. I mean, he had a sense of tact that you damn well didn't, but the guy definitely didn't think much good of me at first. And I didn't blame him. Maybe I had come off too strong, getting so close to him, talking to him so soon after Spiderhole. Still, it hit me kinda hard. I couldn't stick in Spiderhole because of what Imperius had done. I couldn't fathom serving under him any longer. I knew nothing of the surface. Goldwreath was my only lead, so I clung to his trail like a leach. So when the guy himself raises a brow at me, it was like... so, do I keep following this guy? What do I do otherwise? I mean, I could’ve gotten outfitted with Legion gear and spoken to Legion officers about being an auxiliary and stuff, but... I guess my heart wasn't really in it. Going back into service, I mean. If it turned out my next superior was some other nutjob, that would've killed all faith I had in that way of life. But Goldwreath... hah, well, he was different. We all know this. We who were in his little group. He had authority but didn't flaunt it; charisma but didn't abuse it. I guess I just saw the guy as my next officer. At least for a while. Until I could sort my own thoughts out. So I stuck with him. Well, it all turned out for the best, right? Here we are now, after all. So, back to the story. I was hungry. Stomach growled while you were sitting there, trying to keep your smile to yourself. I remember asking you what kind of grub you Roamans had around those parts. Hah! You asked it with such disdain. 'Ugh. Hey Delvius, what kinda grub you Roamans got around here aside from that porridge crap? More edible stuff, I hope.' Well, an hour later you were stuffed and happy. Don't rub it in. What can I say, a lifetime of eating the blandest apples you can imagine didn't exactly give me high standards for cuisine. So, yeah, damn right I was glad to find something with flavor. Celestia knows the world needs better food. I don't recall, though. What exactly was it that you brought over from outside? I kinda just went all out, didn't think on it at all. Spiced grain stew with meat strips and olive oil. Now, grain? Yeah, I could imagine it growing in the wasteland. Meat? Eh, can come off any of the wild animals I'd heard about. But the night before, when I heard them say ‘olive oil’, I just about shit myself. Turns out the Legion had special facilities 'for the production of military rations.' So I was happy as hell to find it still on the menu for breakfast. Oh shit. Really? I'd never had olives before then. Mm... kinda hungry again. We can eat after this, if you want? Awesome. Let's keep going, then. So after the most awesome breakfast I'd had in the Roaman wasteland -- which really wasn't saying much, since I hadn't had breakfast in the Roaman wasteland before that day -- we started strolling around camp. Got the blood pumping through me to get rid of the remaining hangover, and the cool air definitely did me some good. Delvius here showed me around, telling me about the places in the camp he'd visited. Then after that I checked in with my squad again. It was good seeing them on their legs and not looking starved. Even better to see them give me smiles and actually thank me. For all the shit I'd pulled, they said, it all worked out. Well, while you were getting patted on the back, your captain called me over to talk. It made me kinda nervous to talk to him alone, but I didn't want to take you away from your friends. Woah, hold on. Breezetail talked to you? About what? Just asked me some questions about the Roaman wasteland. What the place was like, who was important. Practical questions like that. I told him what little I knew. I hadn't spent much time on the surface, after all. Not before Goldwreath came along and, uh... changed up the dynamic of Spiderhole. I told him as much, and that surprised him. He couldn't quite believe that two different Roamans couldn't give him answers. He'd asked Goldwreath first, and Goldwreath said the same as I did. So your captain just grumbled and said he'd wait until his legs were feeling better before he started looking for those answers himself. Huh. Well, alright. I didn't really realize you even spoke to him. Next thing I knew you were just waiting outside the tent for me. Well, Breezetail's mentioning of Goldwreath had me wonder where the guy was. I hadn't seen him since the day before. It was kinda why I suggested looking for him after you came out of the tent. Right. So after Delvius made his suggestion, we looked. Based on what I knew about the guy, I'd have thought we'd find him in some office negotiating with someone or something. He seemed like a pretty confident sort, okay with public appearances and shit. Imagine our surprise when, after a good amount asking around, we instead found Goldwreath in some far-away tent, tucked into a corner in some dark and creepy medical station, next to a bed on which some really fucked-up looking mare laid. "Who's she?" I remember asking Delvius. "Myst. She was a member of the community I came from. When things turned to shit there, we both bailed. She and Goldwreath have been keeping each other company since then... and even until now, it seems," I said. "Hm, that's good. Good for you, Goldwreath..." I smiled. Well, given the sight before us, I'm sure you found it natural for me to ask if they were a thing. Well, I didn't know and told you as much. Lots of reasons people get together. Usually love, but sometimes other stuff, too. Loneliness. Protection. I hadn't seen enough of them to make an assessment, but knowing how Myst was, well... probably all of it? She was a pretty troubled mare. Always isolated. Even today, haha. Well anyway, so there Delvius and I were. I guess some silent understanding had passed between us that we were both unsure what to do next. I mean, I had some investment with Goldwreath, since he was supposed to show me how things were and stuff. But you know, ain't nice just watching at a stallion sleep. Especially not when he seemed to have wanted some degree of privacy. I was stumped. Leave or stay? It wasn't so late in the day -- almost six AM -- so I figured if I got the guy awake we'd have plenty of time for... shit, I don't know. He was like my temporary officer until Breezetail said otherwise. Maybe a tour? Or a game-plan for the next few days? Or the next few weeks? Something, anything. I hadn't been in the camp long, but I was already aching to get going. Staying still just doesn't sit well with me. "Hey Delvius, we should wake him up," I suggested. "I suppose I've got some stuff to talk to him about." I decided to not question you. You and Goldwreath clearly had some important matters to discuss, so I went to shake him around a bit. You remember what happened the second I laid a hoof on him, though? How could I forget? Closest I've ever come to seeing a guy decapitated right in front of me. All of a sudden Goldwreath just straightened up and drew his blade, and in a frenzy he slashed in a wide arc. Poor Delvius here had to topple over backwards just to keep his head. My zebra friend had to scuttle away as the big, crimson pegasus eyed us both with panic. After a moment Goldwreath seemed to calm down. He looked at us both, then at his sword, and realized what it was he'd almost done. "Sorry," was all he could say. The guy had sweat on his face. For a few moments he just took deep breaths. "That was a, ah... a reflex. I've had a few recent instances wherein drawing the blade first and asking questions later seemed the better strategy." Now Delvius here scrambled up and was all, "Oh... oh, well alright! That's cool, that's cool. I guess any would-be assailant would be pretty shocked at having a sword to their throat, aheh..." He chuckled shakily and stepped away from Goldwreath. "Oh yes, definitely..." Goldwreath replied as he sheathed his blade. He seemed distracted, looking off to the side and whatnot. Then he refocused and put on a smile for us. "Again, sorry. In the future I recommend poking me with a stick. Preferably a long one." Delvius nodded, swallowing. Goldwreath rubbed a hoof over his face and stretched his neck. "Why did you wake me up, anyway? What time is it?" he asked. "Six," I answered. It was my best estimate. Goldwreath smirked. "Six? Hmm, no it isn't, I think. I always wake up at six. It's more than tradition for me at this point; it's practically a constant of my being. Save yourselves the trouble in the future and just leave me alone to wake up. You'll see. Now, what exactly did you come to me for?" "Eh. I figured there was a lot of important stuff to do and wanted to get an early start on it all," I said. "I'm fit for work, remember? I want to get to it. If not for my team anymore, then for myself. I hate waiting around." Goldwreath nodded. "Well I suppose we have that in common. So, work for you..." He paused for a moment, rubbing his chin. His eyes popped wide. "Well. nothing comes to mind, actually. Not even for myself. I suppose I'm far freer than I thought... and it's disturbing." He shook. "Alright, well, let's both head over to Vesperius. Surely he has something that needs doing. You, Delvius, well… do whatever you like." I frowned. Now, I'd learn later on what Goldwreath was, about his position in the Legion, and what he had to do. The guy was essentially free to do whatever he damn well pleased, under no obligation whatsoever. Sounded nice, I guess... if you're the type to enjoy that sort of work -- or lack of work, rather. At that moment though I couldn't help but find the absence of an immediate plan disappointing. I was anxious to get out into the world, to see the place and to get shit done, you know? Well, you are a pegasus. Isn't restlessness a nigh-universal trait of you bunch or something? Damn right it is. Remember the looks I gave Goldwreath at the time? Pure bafflement. Every pegasus I knew was always eager to get going, and suddenly here was this one stallion that didn’t have a plan. It was jarring. Maybe it was just an Equestrian thing, I thought. Goldwreath was Roaman-raised. I just chalked it up to that. Eventually I did realize that Goldwreath didn't exactly like the ‘always free’ clause in his job description and that the freedom of his work bothered him, too. Now Goldwreath started looking around the tent. Then he faced us. “Gimme a few minutes to freshen up. Prepare myself,” he said, then murmured, “I need a pen…” So there Delvius and I were, outside the tent. Goldwreath had asked for time to ‘freshen up', but I wasn't buying any of that. I snuck a peek through the flaps. Through the dark corridor of the tent, I spotted him, barely illuminated by a faint light. The big softie was whispering who knows what to the mare on the bed, and left what looked like a note on the table next to her. I guess he found his pen after all. I smirked and murmured, "Mmm, how Romantic..." You knew I was still there, right? You weren't exactly being subtle about it. Eh, I didn't care. I got a kick out of watching the oh-so confident stallion in armor kneeling down for his mare. It was at that moment I thought, 'Oh yeah, they're a thing.' And when the guy gave her a kiss on the forehead? Oooh, boy! Suddenly I wished I were on that bed. What can I say, the guy was a heck of a looker. I never had romantic feelings for him. He was always too serious. But Celestia! That rear, Delvius! And that mane, and those legs... Ah, yeah, okay, moving on! Eventually Goldwreath did come out, and we were headed along down the path towards Vesperius' tent. Then...? Pfft. Spoil-sport. Can't handle a mare fantasizing, huh? Hey, hey Delvius... that's why you don't have a marefriend yet. Son of a... can we please just move on? Fine. Jeez, you Roamans are always so serious. Anyway, so after trotting down the path up the hill towards Vespy’s tent, we finally stood before the flaps. Goldwreath took one look over his shoulder at us and recoiled slightly. “Huh. You’re still woth us, Delvius?” Ah, this part. Well you guys already know all about why I was hoping to stick with Goldwreath. At that time though the guy had no idea of my intentions, and neither did Skyfire. The two pegasi before me gave me looks -- Skyfire’s eyes were filled with pure curiosity, but Goldwreath’s with caution and some slight suspicion. He wanted answers, I could feel it. And honestly, I was ready to explain myself. I figured this was my chance to get things straight between us. “Well, yeah,” I said after a moment. “And not just to this meeting. See, I… well I suppose I’m kind hoping to stick around. Be part of this little group that’s forming around you. I got nowhere else to go. I’m lost. I know little of this world, but I wanna make a difference. Just like you, really. “After all, If I may be so honest, you and are really quite alike. I heard you were from some other Stable. Marediolanon, right? Never heard of it, but I suppose you’d never heard of Arachnia either. I still don’t know why you left, but leave you did. And you know very well how I wound up out here on the surface. So one out-of-place Stable-dweller to another, I’m asking for a chance to do something with my life. I’ve spent the prime years of my existence underground, doing nothing. Now here I am, in a world of consequence, and it is… scary. I feel that we’d have a better shot at getting things done together. You, me, Skyfire…” I didn’t want to drag Myst into the equation. I knew absolutely nothing about what any agreements she and Goldwreath may have had. I didn’t want to be presumptuous. I sighed and shrugged. “I mean, you know I once served a power-hungry maniac. That wasn’t the life I wanted, but it was the only one I had. Now there’s something new, and I want to take it. For practicality’s sake I figured sticking around with a bunch I knew on a name and face basis would do us all some good. You may not trust me. I suppose I’m not deserving of that just yet. But all I want is a chance.” Now, after my admission, Goldwreath’s expression changed. Whereas before he gave me a stony gaze, now he became more animated. He looked up at the sky and let out a breath, then down at the ground and closed his eyes. I glanced over at Skyfire; she gave me an encouraging nod. At last Goldwreath looked at me. “Well I suppose everyone deserves a chance to live the life they want,” he said, letting out a sigh. “And I suppose your intentions are noble, and not so different from mine. A week ago I was in your place, putting my fate in the hooves of another… who would I be to not treat you as I had been treated?” He smiled faintly and shook his head. “Fine then. Do as you will, under no obligation.” Ah boy, I remember how you lit up at those words. Geez, that smile... Well, what did you expect? I was being given a chance to live a life of consequence. Of course I’d emote! It was a special moment for me. I know, I know. It wasn’t like I didn’t feel glad for you. I mean, I saw that it was obviously a big deal, and your happiness was infectuous. My imagination went wild immediately. The three of us, cruising around the wasteland, wrecking shit and getting stuff done… that thought pumped me up, don’t mistake me. I too wanted to start doing things with my life after all the years spent cooped up in the Enclave. Well I can’t say I managed to immediately sense your mutual excitement. I wasn’t looking for your reaction; I was too busy trying to recompose myself. After a moment I just stood in front of Goldwreath, stiff as a statue and said all deadpan like, “Thank you, I appreciate the opportunity.” But inside, I was beaming. Well, Goldwreath, ever-so-serious, just gave my zebra friend here a nod. I dunno know about Delvius, but to me it was clear the big crimson featherball was still at least a bit uncertain about things. The way Goldwreath looked him over with pursed lips… oh yeah, there were some mixed feelings. Well I suppose I reminded Goldwreath of what happened in Spiderhole. There was nothing I could do about that. Still, we all take responsibility for our own emotions. If he gave me the greenlight after all that he felt about me and that place, then that was on him. For my part, I wanted to prove I was more than what he saw. I had a chance, and that’s all I could have wanted. Cool. Well anyway, eventually Goldwreath took a deep breath and turned around. He moved forward and threw aside the flaps of Vesperius’ tent and entered, beckoning us to follow. We came in right behind him. There, right behind his desk and an assortment of holographic displays, was Vesperius. It was like the guy hadn’t moved at all since the day before. Goldwreath made some odd motion: thrusting a foreleg up in front of him for a short moment, meanwhile the rest of him remained stiff. Some kind of salute, I thought. “Good morning, sir,” my big crimson friend said. “Good morning, Goldwreath,” Vesperius said simply, still tapping away at all the flickering holograms. Boy, the guy didn’t emote much, did he? “I really ought to remind you again that formality isn’t necessary. If you have something to say, please do it with brevity. It is not so late in the day that I have performed enough tasks so’s to create a flexible schedule. But I digress. What can I do for you?” Me, I was still getting used to this dude’s deadpan tone. Goldwreath seemed to expect it, though; he just smiled and rolled his eyes. “A part of me will always defer to authority sir, and I’m not sure if I can change that. But yes, I understand your point. I’ve come to request work.” Vesperius stopped tapping away. One swift wave of both his hooves and the holograms were swept to the sides of his table. He eyed Goldwreath quizzically, and the gaze drifted over me and Delvius. “Work? Already?” There was some actual surprise in his voice. “Do you not wish to rest? You're a young stallion and I respect your physique, but the strain of wasteland work takes its toll within as well as without.” Goldwreath smirked. “If you’re insinuating that my eagerness or mental stability are dampened by the world beyond, sir, it’s hardly so. I’m anxious to get back out there, ready to face the challenges, as is my…” He paused for a moment and looked at us. Delvius shuffled uneasily as Goldwreath’s gaze drifted over him. The armored pegasus looked back to his superior. “... as is my team. Yes sir, we’re ready. It seems the three of us here share a similar anxiety. Staying in place doesn’t sit well with us.” “Hm. Curious.” Vesperius leaned back in his chair. While his eyes stayed still, one of his hooves snaked over to the side and brought close a white mug. If yesterday was any indication, the thing must’ve been filled with coffee. He brought the mug to his mouth and took a long sip. I rolled my eyes and held back a grumble. “Well then, I may just have a task for three anxious individuals such as yourselves,” Vesperius finally said, and I let out a sigh. Finally! Goldwreath perked up, too. As did I. Yeah. Goldwreath gave Vesperius a grin and asked, “What needs doing?” “An errand. Nothing of direct consequence to Legion operations, but then you are in my employ to take up whatever tasks I throw your way -- menial or otherwise. The previous assignment was important to establishing peace in a ten-mile radius of this camp. This next one is… well, recovery, you could say. There is a place I would learn more about. An old compound on the outskirts of Roam, on the banks of the Tiber. An old research station for Roaman scientists during the war.” Goldwreath cocked his head sideways. “Nothing of consequence? Sounds rather important, sir.” Vesperius shrugged. “We already have all the wartime data regarding all the Roaman projects and operations. I am blind to no mystery of the past. Still… I’d rather be sure. I want you to go to the Principium Engineering Foundation and reactivate the compound, then tap into the mainframe and download all the data. I shall compare what I have with what is within those computers.” Vesperius leaned back in his seat. “Now I know you have questions. Let me attempt to answer some of them before their asking; yes, the location should be safe. Still, keep your guard up. Yes, I could send others, but I choose you. Yes, the compound still functions, last I heard. You will activate the systems by inputting a revival code into the dormant mainframe. The code will be sent to your device, along with a simple set of instructions for its usage, and of course I’ll give you an electronic ID just in case the security systems are still active. In your device you’ll also find other important details -- a full write up of things. And lastly, no, I have no transport available for you right now -- all are in use. You’ll have to head there on your own. Should be a fairly leisurely trip if all goes well, really. Take a stroll there. A cautious stroll. The location is about a dozen hours away by hoof, so that’s a day’s round-trip journey. I’ll send you an electronic map. “Any questions?” I stood there and thought on the job. Heck, it sounded easy enough. Maybe a little long, but nothing I hadn’t had to do before, during my recon days with the Enclave. And I’d made do with less info. Breezetail always handled things. So no, I had no questions myself. But Goldwreath… well, if he was anything like Breezetail -- and he sure seemed to share some qualities -- his head was probably buzzing with questions. The big crimson stallion looked to the floor, his eyes scanning the ground. Oh yeah, he had questions. But I suppose Vesperius’ promise of further details on Goldwreath’s ‘device’ won him over. “Alright. Consider it done. And I suppose I should be thankful we’re being given an easy job that takes care of our anxiety,” Goldwreath said. Vesperius nodded. “Well, I believe we all perform better when we scratch certain itches. My itch to be scratched for optimal performance is a need for some meditation before the day begins. I get that, I can handle anything. But you and your team, well, you’re young. No matter the circumstances, you’re all very curious about things. Restless. Rather than seeing that as negative, I’d rather capitalize on it. All things can be made useful if you know what you’re doing.” He looked off to the sides at the holographic displays. “My, the reports have piled up. If you’ll excuse me, you three, I really must get back to work. I’ll do all I can to keep track of you and ensure the success of your mission, but right now Legio I Magnus Potens Roamana is tied down, so don’t expect much. You’ll be lucky if you get a ride back. Now, take some time to prepare. Really, just do it when you like. I’d have had this done in the future, anyway. I should count myself blessed that you offered your services again so soon, so I can’t complain.” Goldwreath bowed his head. “Very good, sir. We’ll get to it as soon as possible. See you in a day or so, Vesperius. Try not to overwork yourself, sir.” “I don’t think that’s possible, but I appreciate the sentiment. Goodbye, Goldwreath.” Cut. Hm, what? Why? I was finally getting into my story-telling mood. I was all formal and shit for like the past few minutes. I know, and it’s appreciated. But this seems like a good point to take a break and give our readers, or listeners, a rest, too. A long story is best broken into digestible chunks. Fine… wait, does that mean we can go eat now? I see no reason why not. Hah! Awesome. ***Roama Victrix*** Mm… mm, boy, that was good. Say, you think they were lying about being out of salad? I was hoping to go have some again for dinner, but oh well. Hard to say. You ate a lot, but it’s their job to stay stocked, so… anyway, we’re recording now, you know. Oh, great! You take over for a bit, I gotta pick this stuff out of me teeth first. Me? Take over? Well, I’ve only been chiming in so far. This is really about your story, not mine. Like yours is any less important. Go on, dude. I, ah… okay. Sure. If you insist. Well, after we left Vesperius’ tent Goldwreath gave us an hour to prepare ourselves for the journey ahead. I expressed my concern for supplies, and the big guy simply said he had it covered. I figured he must’ve had some plan, so I didn’t question him. Shortly thereafter, he left and disappeared into the camp. Skyfire and I parted ways to go and prepare. I assumed she wanted to go and tell her squad what she was going to be up to. Me, I found myself wandering for a bit. Like hell was I just gonna stay in one spot and wait for the two of them to come to me. Now, most of the local legion had headed out on some op of theirs, which left most of their tents empty. I wandered away from the hub of activity at the center of the camp -- where all the stalls and Arachnians were -- and headed along down the desolate paths between the legionaries’ tents. I was surprised, though, to find a few of them were inhabited. After some wandering I realized why: these were all injured legionaries, and were being cared for by what seemed to be personal retinues. Outside one of these tents, an old zebra sat, just looking around and seeming to just enjoy the sunlight. He spotted me and smiled warmly, beckoning me come close. “My, you are new here, aren’t you? I’ve not seen your stripes since… ever! And that glyph… definitely not a legionary’s! Where do you come from, boy?” the old stallion asked. Uh, in Imperial. Obviously Equestrian was/is extremely widespread and influential and most people know it as a second language, if not as their first, but still there were exceptions. This stallion was one of those exceptions. I approached him. “I accompanied the refugees, sir. You could say I’m one of them,” I replied in his preferred tongue. “Hmm, but you’re clearly more,” he mused, looking me over with a squint and a wrinkled smile. “Not that I think low of wastelanders… well, not lower than they deserve, anyway, but you’re clearly a cut above that bunch. They just don’t… develop themselves the way we in the Legion do. That’s a respectable physique you have there, boy. Ah, reminds me of me when I was younger… and still kicking ass, haha! Hah...” I got the feeling this guy was reminiscing. I mean, he’d clearly been through a lot, judging from all his scars… did he want to go back out there? Seemed kinda odd to me; I mean, I only really wanted to go out there cause I knew there was so much to see, but this guy had clearly seen it all already. Why go back? “Are you anxious to get back out there, sir? After you heal up, I mean,” I said. His smile faded, and I found myself stammering. “Well, I don’t mean to pry, it’s just… just that you seem wistful. And that that’s why you were asking, s-so-...” “It’s okay,” he said, his head downcast. Then he looked up and gave a weak smile. He stood and limped into his tent. “Come in here, boy.” I cast a tentative gaze to other nearby zebras -- at the wounded and the at their caretakers. Those who saw me gave me reassuring nods. I put my anxieties to ease and went in after the elderly stallion. I threw the flaps aside. Within the tent, there he stood, leaning against a drawer and flipping the pages of a notebook with his good foreleg. He sighed. “You younger types have got it good, you know,” he said. “We the Legion have only been up here a few months, and already we’ve done so much. It was tiring. It took a toll on the first generation of legionaries… on me.” He took the notebook into his mouth and limped slowly to a nearby bed. I rushed over to aid him ease onto the mattress. He put the notebook down. “Thank you, my boy. I suppose what I’m trying to say is that I’m obviously not as spry as I used to be. Even before I came up here, that is. But you know, all people go through youth and feel the… the excitement of adventure. For no reason and hoping to achieve nothing, we all sometimes just… do things. That was me. And as I look at you, well… I think I can see that’s you, too. Is that right?” Well, mother and father had never raised themselves a liar. And besides, humoring the elderly was a common activity for me back in Spiderhole. Lots of tribal elders went around asking for stories to stave off the terrors of old age. I had no true stories to tell them, so I just made some up… but this time I had tale in the making. I could give him that. “Yes. Quite right,” I said, smiling. Seeing his old face light up at having made a correct guess brought my heart warmth. “I, ah… I’m acquaintances with the red pegasus that’s been causing fuss around here. Lord Vesperius holds him in high esteem, it seems.” “The pegasus?” His mouth was agape in wonder. “Ah, the pegasus! I’d never seen the likes of him before, you know. Ah, what an exciting sight he was… and all the other pegasi that suddenly appeared because of him! Hmm, ah what interesting developments. I’d have gotten up to look him up close, you know. If I could have. Gods know this old centurion still wants to see the wonders of this great world.” His eyes opened wide and he looked at me. “You’re acquaintances with him, and your legs are working just fine. Do… do you think you could travel with him? And write about what it is you two experience out there? I-I think I still have a few empty notebooks around here; journals I never got use.” He got up and shambled over to the drawer with an excitement great enough to overcome his injuries. I figured if I tried to help him out he’d just insist on being able to handle it, knowing old people… so I just let him be as he rummaged through his items. “So you’re a centurion, sir? Which rank?” I asked. “Was a centurion, but thanks for thinking I still have what it takes to be one. Hm. I was the local legion’s primus pilus up until a few months ago. Now they have a new commander. Oh well, my time was bound to come to an end. I have few regrets, but… not filling these up before my service ended was one of them,” he said, pulling out several notebooks and tossing them over onto the bed. He looked over the notebooks with ecstasy, then at me just standing there, looking over him. He sighed and licked his lips. “Ah, sorry. Forgive an old zebra. I didn’t even wait for your answer, did I? I just assumed you’d do me the favor of filling these up. I just love stories. And I’m hoping my grandchildren will, too. I want them to read of the exciting times, when the wasteland was still being tamed. Because the future I see them in, it’s… peaceful. And that’s good. But they should always remember where that peace came from, you know? History. Learning history prepares us for the future, tells us what not to do and what’s okay to do. I’m a big believer in that, and I guess… I assumed you were too. Heh.” I smiled. “I am.” His ears stood straight up, and he eyed me closely as I went over and collected the notebooks. Pages and pages of empty, ready to be filled up… ready to make concrete whatever it was I would encounter out there. Yes, I could do this. I would have done, even without the request. This was something I wanted, just as much as… just as much as, uh... I turned to him, the notebooks close to my chest. “As I fill these up, I would know the name of the elder with an adventurer’s heart. For he asked me to do this as a favor to him, but I consider it an honor and a privilege.” He sniffed and shook his head for a bit. “Uh, Quintilius. And… bless you! Bless your noble soul. I will pray to the gods for your good fortune. Who are you, my boy?” “Delvius, sir.” “Delvius! It is a rousing name, worthy of you. That pegasus, great as he may be, will be most fortunate to have your generous company. He will need it.” “Well, I don’t know about that… but it’s good to have someone believing in me. Thank you, Quintilius.” The warmth in my heart fading, I naturally came to realize a practical issue. “Uh, I may need something to put these in, though. I’m afraid I possess little, and of those possessions not one is fit for dangerous travel in the wastes.” He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He nodded. “Underneath my bed. My old equipment… my armor, my satchels. My sword and my shield, and my old rifle… take them. This frail body could not have hoped to make use of them anymore. But you… you are strong. And gods damn me if I would not outfit the generous soul who would wipe away this old centurion’s regrets.” He opened his eyes and seemed on the verge of tears as he smiled. “Yes, it is only right. Take it all. Please.” The surety of his tone moved me past any protest. I brought the aforementioned gear out from underneath his bed and laid it all out before me -- crested helmet, ballistic weave armor, nicked gladius, beaten shield, and an old rifle. The accolades of Quintilius’ service were still attached to the mesh of his lorica. However noble a soul he thought I was, I didn’t earn those. With some hesitation I moved to take them off, and he must’ve had the same thought, for I got no protest from him. Once that was done, I outfitted myself with all the gear and stood before him. “It’s a little tight,” he observed, “But then you are a bit larger than I. Or maybe I had the armor made for me when I was thinner? Well, whatever the case, it still fits.” He gently ran his good forehoof over the rim of his former shield. The touch seemed to invigorate him. “That’s… that’s what matters. Yes, that’s what matters.” I placed the notebooks into one of the armor’s empty belt pouches. They fit quite snugly. Quintilius watched closely as I closed the flaps and secured them within. “A-again, I must thank you,” he said. “You’ve brought a washed-up old centurion something to hope for. What great fortune it was you ran into me, eh? The gods are truly good. And please, no need to thank me any more than you already have. The way I see it, you wearing that armor is the sign of a duty I put upon you -- and as great as duties are, I know they can often be a curse as well as a blessing. If nothing else, Delvius, view these as gifts. I would not have one so young and full of life die out there.” “Well, better is a short life of consequence than a drawn-out existence of idleness and decay.” I smiled at him. “I will do my best to fulfill this task for you, and to live a life worth all your praise. I agree with what you say. There is much to see out there… and should it ever change, I’d like people to know what exactly happened, too.” I gave him a bow and turned my body around, but kept my eyes on his. “I take my leave, Quintilius. But I will return soon, and as often as I can ever thereafter. We’ll have many tales to share.” “I look forward to it already,” he said, stifling a sniff. Then his eyes popped wide. “Ah! Pen!” He scrambled through his drawers again and pulled out a simple pen. He smiled at me sheepishly. “Aheh, would’ve been pointless to give you paper without a pen, heh… farewell, my boy.” After that, well… uh, why’re you looking at me like that? What? Even I can appreciate how sweet people can be to each other. Ah, a purely-platonic sweetness in this case. I mean, I heard you talking about Quintilius before, but… well, hearing how you two met, it’s pretty nice. Well yes, it was quite nice. Something to think about that lifted up my mood whenever I felt a little down. I’d be lying if I said the odd but unquestionably fruitful encounter wasn’t in my mind the entire length of my trot to our designated meeting spot outside the camp. Even my encounter with the camp’s gatekeepers hardly took my mind away from it. And once I was in the wasteland proper, sitting on a broken column with only the distant eyes of the Legion’s sentries to keep me company? Well, I thought of it even then. Much of what Quintilius said stuck with me and provoked thought. Well, I remember how Goldwreath and I found you -- sitting there, solemnly, seeming in deep thought… I mean, at the time you looked like you were in deep thought, but I considered that maybe you’d just gotten bored waiting for us. Now I know you really were. Heck, did you even notice us approach you? No. Not until Goldwreath called out to me, anyway. You know how that is. At the very sound of his voice I stood straight up and turned around to see you two approaching. Now, him I recognized. But you in that black carapace armor of yours, with those threatening glowing rifles strapped to your sides? Well… Believe me, it all creeped me the hell out the first time I saw them, too. Way back when I was just a filly, I had nightmares. But oh well, armor is armor -- and I knew it’d scare the fight out of some poor wastelanders, so I guess I couldn’t dislike the design too much. Of course it was way more useful before Goldwreath cut off the tail. Well, I didn’t fixate on you for too long. Your weird, bug-eyed helmet gave me the creeps. I would’ve much rather looked to some other object of interest, and my eyes met Goldwreath’s; he gazed over me curiously as you two approached. I guess he noticed my new equipment. Compared to his and yours, it really wasn’t much. It was better than nothing, of course, and I wasn’t one for heavy armor anyway. I always did find the praetorian lorica pretty cumbersome, however good it was. That made the two of us. So, Goldwreath and I eventually got right to Delvius, and my stoic, feathered friend, as usual, gave us both a long lookover. He loved eyeing things whenever he was about to say something important. It’s kinda like his fetish or something, I don’t know. “Well then, I see we three have taken preparations into our own hooves. Very good. So I take it we’re ready to journey forth? Or have either of you any last desires to fulfill?” he said. Guh, oh Celestia… talking like that gives me the shakes. Honestly, how can anyone talk like that on a regular basis? “None that come to mind. I’m ready,” I replied. Really, the longer we waited, the more anxious I got. I had done little wrong in my life, but I knew that may have been a problem in and of itself. I needed to fill the aching gap of idleness that’d marked me the moment I was born. The weight of Quintilius’ notebooks seemed to double in my satchels. “I’m quite eager, really.” “Me too. Let’s get moving, boys,” I chimed in. Yeah, I was thinking the same as you -- minus the whole ‘I’d done little with my life’ drama. No no, I’d done a heck of a lot with my life in the Enclave. The problem was it all never agreed with me. I guess, in some way, we were all motivated by a desire for the new, huh? Yeah. You could say that. Which made us sure of what we were saying. Goldwreath must’ve noticed it; he asked no more, and just started trotting along down the road leading into the city. Delvius and I followed suit. For my part, my heart was thundering. We were actually finally doing this. “Let’s proceed, then,” Goldwreath said. “We shall go as far as we can before nightfall. I’d like to make camp as close to our destination as possible. Skyfire, if your wings are up to it, you ought to keep a watch over things from the air. I’m betting most Roaman wastelanders aren’t used to keeping their eyes on the sky.” “How about you?” I asked. He smiled bashfully. “Well, I’m loathe to admit your superiority in the craft of flight. And are your eyes not more keen? You’re a scout, aren’t you? Meanwhile I’ve lived in tight spaces most of my life. I’m not as perceptive of far-off details as you, or really, of anyone who’s lived out here.” Yeah, sounded about right. To this day I still have trouble reading anything over a hundred feet away. Well, your handicap was my privilege. Hell yeah was I up for keeping in the air! All I needed was the greenlight. Wouldn’t want you boys on the ground to think I’d left you to satisfy my own wants. I gave Goldwreath a grin. “I’ll make sure you boys don’t walk into an ambush. But you, my friend, have got to get more comfortable with flying! One of these days I’ve got to teach you what I know. You’re missing out, dude. The skies are great! Anyway... do try to stay safe down here, eh?” With that, I took off. Vesperius’ eggheads had done pretty good; my helmet and armor were both functioning normally. My visor’s heads-up display calculated my altitude as I climbed and climbed… and when I neared the clouds I stopped, taking in the world below through honeycomb light filters. They gave an orange tint to everything that gave the Roaman wasteland a kind of golden look. Wow… how was the view up there? Like nothing I’d ever seen. Equestria was deep in the shit, but occasionally it took my breath away. But Roam, it was… well, let’s just say you guys knew how to build a great-looking city if nothing else. Well, I’m glad you enjoyed yourself. Meanwhile I was left on the ground in the company of the guy I still had a cold relationship with. You didn’t so eagerly accept so as to get us to start… bonding, did you? I’ll admit, that was part of it. What can I say, nothing quite arouses me like watching two stallions walking side by side together… Aw, gods, Skyfire! I don’t swing that way. You… might? I don’t know -- but I don’t. Blergh. Well, admittedly, being left with him did give me the idea that it was my chance to start getting him to warm up to me. I cleared my throat. ‘Come on, Delvius, what would a guy like Goldwreath like to talk about?’ I thought. “So…” I drawled. “I… I’ve got to say, Roam looks absolutely stunning. Like, do you notice how those aqueducts criss-cross the sky like great aerial pathways, going-...” “North, south, east, and west?” Goldwreath finished. He looked back at me and smiled faintly before glancing upwards. “Yes, I’d thought of it exactly that way, too. It is a testament to our people’s ingenuity that such structures could withstand two centuries, is it not?” Well now, things were going better than I expected. We all know how Goldwreath’s like. Skyifre, me, you the readers/listeners… I mean, you’ve probably given his chapters a skim at the very least. He’s a talker, and part of that craft is hiding how he truly feels. But, as I would begin to realize starting with that conversation… once you got him talking about Roam, you’d be hard-pressed to get him to stop. It was among the few things for which you always knew how he truly felt. As he would put it: a constant of his being. “You know, in Arachnia, per our roles as living reminders of the past, I’ve quite an extensive knowledge of ancient Roam, and any events therein. Would you like to hear of its development from a mere village to a grand city?” I proposed, getting an inkling that this sort of talk was how I could bridge this cold gap between us. That got his eyebrows high in interest. “I’ve only learned the basics of such an old portion of our history, so yes! Of course. You know, we in Marediolanon had a similar role with preserving history -- though I noticed it was quite specific to military strategies and equipment. I’ve no idea, then, who among us knows more. Me or you?” “Could be you’re the better strategist and fighter, then, while I’m more versed in our people’s past. I still think we could learn much. Tell stories,” I replied. He nodded approvingly. “As good an answer as I could’ve thought of. Please, do start.” I took a deep breath. “Well, it all started when the inhabitants of once-puny Roam decided to drain all the marshes choking their village…” ***Roama Victrix*** “ ...and it was then, as you probably know, that the Castra Praetoria was built, and the praetorians were made a legitimate fighting force with exclusive access to Roam.” I am so glad you decided to do a scene cut for that. Cause after flying overhead for like, what, three hours, I came down and that’s the first thing I heard. Don’t get me wrong, I’m pretty okay with history… but I don’t think I could have taken three hours of staying on the ground with you guys if that was all you two were talking about. I guess you just don’t have our level of appreciation for it. Goldwreath was loving it, I was loving it. If we were familiar with a certain structure as we passed by, we talked about it -- and if it was nothing particularly noteworthy, we discussed it anyway in relation to how modern Roam must’ve been like. I’m quite surprised we weren’t shot at, given how distracted we were. Well, I was keeping watch, so… you’re welcome. Thanks for that, by the way. I guess you gave two Roaman geeks the freedom to break into open discussion without fear… though I suppose the Legion gets more credit. They did clear the city, for the most part, and made it as safe as it was. I guess so. After three hours of nothing I realized there wasn’t actually anything to look out for -- it’s why I came down. That and my wings were beginning to hurt. I could tell. You hissing upon a rough landing kind of gave it away. Well I guess I’d been rather obvious about it when even Goldwreath noticed -- what with all his self-proclamations about having low perception and stuff. I guess it was pretty nice to have such a stallion show concern for me though, heh. “Skyfire, are you alright? Perhaps we can stop first and let you rest. You must be exhausted, and I’m sorry to say you slipped my mind for a… a while. Please, do let us keep watch this time.” Boy, Myst sure is lucky to have such a gentlecolt with her. Is that envy I’m hearing? Eh, not so much. It’s just generally nice to be treated great is all. And when a stallion halts a long-haul just for you, and when he bids you to lay down somewhere in the shade, and then invites his fellow male to search the area and make sure it’s safe? Yeah, pretty great. You almost feel like a queen. All that was missing was the crown and the royal banquet. Well I supposed that doing some recon ourselves was a fair proposition, so… and I guess we had been paying far too little attention to the potential dangers of the wasteland. An exercise in caution wasn’t so bad. With that in mind, I accompanied Goldwreath on his patrol. I trotted next to him as we scoured a nearby shop -- or at least it was one, before it was blasted and hollowed out and picked clean of anything immediately useful. Nothing but a few stools still bolted to the ground and a bunch of overturned tables. Still, in the urban maze of Roam, you never know where something interesting may be hiding. “Should she not lay her head indoors instead?” I asked him. “Well, she’s up against a wall and can see all angles of approach. Much safer that way. Not like in tight spots like these,” he replied, extending his shield and holding it before him as we crept into the back. I pulled out my own shield and did the same. As we moved down a long hallway, I noticed the husks of old ovens and other cooking machines in the room beyond. A restaurant, then, was what this place must’ve been. But it’s name? Well, lost to time. Shame. We neared the doorway to what must’ve been the kitchen, and I noted the slumped figure leaning off to the side, against a toppled cart: a body coated in grey armor and dressed in red garments. A legionary. “Goldwreath, look. Legionary,” I pointed out. We stopped. From where we stood it was hard to make out any more details about the body; the mess of shattered dishes and broken furniture around it obscured further observation. “Could be a Legion scout,” Goldwreath said. He looked to me and took a deep breath. “Well, if he had anything on him Vesperius will want to know. On our way back we could pick up the body. Soldiers deserve a better fate than this.” With that, he moved forward. Slowly, he crept over all the assorted rubble and junk scattered over the floor. Meanwhile, a ghostly howl echoed from outside, a noise akin to the movement of air through and between tight stone paths. A light breeze blew in from outside, but it was the sudden drop in temperature that pierced all my garments and chilled me to the bone. I noticed the changes far more dramatically from where I was. The world had gotten dark really fast. Clouds blocked the sun, and freezing air swept into the city. I didn’t know what the heck was going on, but I figured you guys were a lot warmer than I was, so I got up and went in after you. There you were, leaning against a far-off wall, and Goldwreath through the nearby doorway. I spotted the object of interest straightaway: a dead body. But with the help of my helmet, I spotted something else. Something vaguely shiny, like stretched nylon wire. Stretched wire. I galloped after him. “Goldwreath, stop!” I turned and saw you charging forward. I didn’t know what you were worried over, but the terror in your voice was as genuine as it could get. My mind clicked. I burst through the doorway after our oblivious friend. Along the way, I spotted it: the tripwire, concealed by all the wreckage. All our frantic cries reached him too late. He turned to face us just as his big, armored hoof unfeelingly snapped the wire. From the ruined ceiling swept a tethered chunk of concrete from which jutted sharpened metal beams. I jumped and shoved him aside. His mass was so great that my momentum stopped right where he stood; I had taken his place. In a flash, the sharpened points were upon me. They punched right against my armor, and in some places pierced it outright. My right shoulder exploded with pain. I cried as the heavy concrete rocked me back and forth, my body brought along for the ride. “Oh, gods…” Goldwreath muttered, looking upon me with disbelief. Then he surged forward and grabbed me. “It’ll be okay to scream,” he told me, and I nodded, shutting my eyes as if to stifle the agony of my punctured flesh. I felt another pair of hooves on me. “Okay, Skyfire. One, two… three!” And with that I was yanked backwards, and the longest of the sharpened blades slipped free of me. I watched as my blood dripped to the floor in fat rivulets. I’d seen blood before, lots of it. But never my own. I was a pile of numb flesh guided by a slow mind as my two friends brought me somewhere safe -- a corner of the room clear of all rubble -- and laid me against the wall. Goldwreath rummaged through his saddlebags. “It’s just one deep puncture. Clean, too. Easy enough to treat. Skyfire, put some pressure on it,” Goldwreath instructed. Everything was such a blur… I couldn’t tell whether from blood loss or just my inability to cope with the surge of excruciating sensations. I’d never before undergone that level of stress. I just closed my eyes and let the ones with more blood in their heads do the work. Better that way. No point straining myself, I thought. A few minutes later I felt myself slapped lightly on the cheek. I opened my eyes and looked into Skyfire’s bright orange irises. “Hey! Stick with us, Delvius. You’ll be okay.” “I’ll be okay,” I deadpanned. Then I blinked and looked around. My foreleg had been wrapped up in bandages. “What… what exactly happened? Are we under attack?” I asked, dazed. Goldwreath shook his head. “No. And well, I… snapped a tripwire. And you suffered for it.” He sighed. “I should’ve seen it. It was such a bad idea to investigate. It was so obvious.” We said nothing. Goldwreath bowed his head. The world had gotten dark; the sun’s light, reflected by smooth concrete to bring illumination even this far into the building, had dimmed. The air became cold even when static. The howling winds from beyond grew louder. Goldwreath looked up and listened. “What’s going on out there?” “Beats me,” Skyfire replied. “The sky got dark all of a sudden. Then things got cold, and the winds picked up. Equestria’s weather is in the shit, but I don’t see no reason why the skies here are fucked, too.” Goldwreath shook his head. “How bad is it? Out there, I mean?” “Pretty bad,” she said. Goldwreath sighed again and stood. “Just as well. I don’t think we should move until tomorrow, minimum… or until Delvius feels okay again.” He looked right down at me, then opened his mouth to say something… then shut it. He frowned and looked around, then wrapped his purple cape over him. “I’ll take a look outside, maybe gather some fuel for a fire. Skyfire, you look around. I’m sure you’ll be more careful than me,” he said gloomily. He trotted out. Skyfire and I exchanged looks. She gave me a wan smile. “Ah, he’ll get over it. Everyone fucks up sometimes. Though, ah… I guess I shouldn’t be making excuses for him, eh? After all, if I were in your position-...” “No no, it’s fine,” I said. “It doesn’t hurt that bad. Besides, what’re companions for?” I chuckled brokenly. “Ow, that hurts…” “Well, then rest. I’ll take a look around, make sure this place is safe.” She put in her helmet. “Be back in a bit.” And so she left, disappearing into the darkness. I turned and leaned my cheek against the wall. Well, I suppose there’s some comfort to be found in the cold. Beats a stuffy, hot tunnel anyway, anyways. I pulled out one of Quintilius’ empty notebooks and opened it up. I stared at the blank paper for a moment. Then I pulled out his pen and, with my good foreleg, began to write. “Day one. I now know how it’s like to have just one good foreleg. Quintilius would be appalled at how poorly I’ve taken care of myself, but such is an adventurer’s life…” ***Roama Victrix*** Well, eventually I managed to clear the area. Whoever booby-trapped the place up was packing some serious heat. Laser tripwired improvised machinegun turret, pressure-plate activated collapsible ceiling panel that dropped grenades… and when I kicked a door open -- and I’m glad I did that instead of putting my body under the doorframe -- a gladius stabbed down from the ceiling, sides glowing and sizzling with heat. Then there was the body. I don’t know what Goldwreath was going to it for, but it was a disappointment. Nothing of interest whatsoever. Though I’m guessing plenty of the traps were made out of that guy’s equipment. Poor sod. Whoever armed this place up had some serious beef with the Legion. Luckily, all my past experience dealing with this sort of crap prepared me for the handling of such delicate matters. I scavenged what I could, and for my efforts was rewarded with a bunch of grenades, some miscellaneous electronics, the greater part of a light machinegun (the rest of it had been replaced by a mess of wires; what a sad way to mutilate such a fine piece of gear), and a gladius. I lugged my new acquisitions over to where Delvius lay. He whistled. “Wow, you’ve been busy. And here I’d thought the first trap was bad.” He grunted and scooted close, looking over the pile. “Shit, that’s a whole arsenal. What kind of overkill were these people going for? You’d think that with these many traps, whoever they were aiming to kill would wisen up and just ditch this place.” “You’d be surprised,” I told him, “Of what hate can make people do. Holding grudges and all that… it’s sometimes kinda hilarious.” I chuckled. “Ah, people can be so funny sometimes.” He rose a brow and leaned away. Eh, I admit I bothered myself too, sometimes. Goldwreath trotted back in from outside, shivering. His armor was coated with a fine layer of condensation, and his helmet was bent sideways. The mane underneath was a mess. “Oh yeah, we are not leaving this building anytime soon,” he said through chattering teeth. “It seems the winter the Legion spoke of is nearing its arrival. I forgot about that for a while. This will not be a pleasant week if things go on like this.” He pulled out a steel box from underneath his cape; within was a pile of paper and other miscellaneous junk. “Luckily,” he said as he dumped the box’s contents in front of us, “We’ve enough to make a fire. Let’s get through tonight at least. We’ll see what tomorrow brings.” I sat down next to Delvius. Goldwreath gathered the pile into a neat circle, then proceeded to grab nearby rubble to contain it. “Winter?” I asked. “You guys have winter here? In Equestria, seasons are fucked. Some days are cold as a freezer, others are as hot as an oven. There’s no consistency there. So if you guys have got some actual seasons here, heck, I’d welcome that. It’s not radioactive, is it? Like, balefire winter?” Goldwreath pulled out his gladius, and with the press of a button he sent the edges glowing bright blue. He dipped the blade into the pile, and the contents burst into flame instantly. It was probably just noon, maybe earlier, but things had gotten too dark, too windy, and too cold to even think of resuming our assignment. At least we had a comforting fire, and a safe spot to enjoy it in. Goldwreath sat down opposite us. “I don’t know. This is my first time out here in the wasteland. Legion’s been on the surface less than a year, too, so who knows what this winter’ll be like. If it’s worse than I fear… shit, we didn’t come prepared…” He slammed a hoof down and growled. “First I forget to account for the seasons, then Delvius takes a stab for me. Gods damn it.” He looked at us remorsefully. “I am sorry. I did not... I am not doing too well, am I? Leading you two out here, I mean. What a way to start our journey, right?” Ah, the other side of Goldwreath. What fun. Eh, just about every leader who gives a shit about the people under them suffer from guilt. After all, the world’s a dangerous place. No matter how hard they try, something bad’s bound to happen. A moment of weakness, a few seconds of complacency, then boom! Someone gets killed or injured. It’s a curse, you know. Caring. When it works, it keeps people safe. But when it doesn’t, well… let’s just say self-blame’s part of the package. I’d witnessed Breezetail go through it all often enough to know it wasn’t really Goldwreath’s fault. Or, well, maybe it was -- but pressuring him over it wouldn’t much good. Sometimes leaders need to be inspired to do better just as much as they inspire others to do better. Mm, fair enough. I take it that’s what was going through your mind when you said what you said next? I kinda just followed your lead. Oh yeah. “Hey. You’re doing pretty okay by me,” I told my big, clumsy, feathered friend. “Yeah, you fucked up. And maybe I shouldn’t be the one say things are okay…” I looked to Delvius with both brows up high. “Er… um, well things are fine, I guess. It’s just a flesh wound, nothing too serious,” the zebra said. I smiled. “But the thing with being a leader is that it means you take responsibility for things. It’s a burden, I know. Something bad happens, you take the blame. Sometimes you just gotta cut the guys in charge some slack. They’re trying to keep people in line -- people, who’re often fucking trigger-happy idiots just aching to kill stuff. They do all that good, nobody gives a shit. But they get one tiny thing wrong, and everybody’s on their ass. You weren’t even expecting Delvius to take the blade for you, right? I think you went ahead because you knew something might’ve happened, and you wanted to be the one to suffer in case you were right. You took initiative, and that’s good. But Delvius took initiative, too, and in that instant he assumed responsibility. Not to say that you shouldn’t be more careful next time, but I think that blaming you isn’t right either.” “It’s true, Goldwreath,” Delvius chimed in. “This wound’s all on me. I mean, I could’ve let you fulfill your leadership role and take the fall instead. It’s probably what you would’ve preferred, huh? Well it wouldn’t have sat well by me. You took us under you; best we can do is try to repay the favor.” Goldwreath bowed his head, taking off his helmet and laying it next to him. He shrugged. “You could’ve died. We can say all this because you’re still breathing. But if you died, things would be different.” “You hardly know me,” Delvius said, “And I hardly know you. Best I can figure, if I died, it would’ve been tragic, but not unexpected. Such things happen to adventurers all the time, right? So many variables. Who’s to say it would’ve been your fault?” My fellow pegasus said nothing. After a while he just looked at us and snickered, then he stood up. He looked over at the body. “I take it there was nothing of interest on the corpse? This pile right here, that’s all you could find in this place?” “Yeah,” I replied. “Nothing on the body. It was bait, I think.” He sighed. “Well, alright then. Get some rest, you two. I’ll stay up and keep watch. I’ll… not touch anything this time.” Delvius and I glanced at each other. One look and we both agreed: no way were we giving Goldwreath time to wallow in his doubt. We had to do better by him than that. “But we’re not tired,” Delvius said. “And really, I’d rather we all gather around this fire instead. Keep warm and all that. We can still keep watch of each other, and we can tell stories. I think I’d like to get to know the people I’m travelling with.” Goldwreath looked between the two of us. We both smiled up at him. “Why do I get the feeling you two are consorting on this?” he asked with a chuckle. “Fine.” He sat down. I discreetly held out my hoof to Delvius; he bumped it with his own. We smirked. “So… stories. What sorts of stories do you suggest we tell? I’ve not much to say,” Goldwreath said. Ha-ha-ha. Yeah, right. Everybody’s always got something to say -- and if not that, there’s always something that can be said about everybody. There aren’t ever any shortage of stories. I learned that through countless hours of talking with old people. It was with a great amount of incredulity that I prodded him: “Tell us about how you got out here. That’s sure to be a heck of a tale. What exactly happened with you before you even came to Arachnia?” I leaned forward. “Well, all I’ve been getting so far are tons of names and no idea who the heck they are, so this should be good. Go ahead, then. Fill up the holes for us, would’ya?” He sat there for a moment, smiling politely but with some obvious hesitation. He ran a hoof through his saddlebags and pulled out a… thing. A little black box, some sort of device. The light of its screen cast a pale whiteness over his face. “Well, it’ll take a while, but we’ve got time.” He sighed and put the thing down. It was out of anticipation that I pulled out another one of Quintilius’ notebooks. Gotta keep separate logs for different stuff and all that. If Goldwreath noticed the pen and journal in my hooves, he didn’t show it. He just started talking: “Well… let’s start with things back in my home. Marediolanon. We were celebrating Saturnalia one day. Things were pretty normal. Then…” That story of his was long indeed. We must’ve spent hours listening, and then maybe a few more asking questions. Honestly, though, I wouldn’t have had it any other way. ***Roama Victrix*** Of course, we had to cut it short at some point. Our fire was dying, and the world was only getting colder and darker. I had just a few more questions before Goldwreath went out to gather fuel, though. “So do you think you’ll ever go back to Marediolanon? Anytime soon, I mean.” Then with a grin I added, “And will Myst be with you? You sly dog you.” Goldwreath’s eyes popped wide, and he coughed and turned to the side. “W-well, I’m… certainly thinking of it, and she did accept, so…” He smiled crookedly and chuckled. “Ah, boy. I’m going to regret telling you all about her, aren’t I?” Delvius looked up from his notebook. At the time, I had no idea what the hell he was doing with it. Doodling, I thought. Roamans were artsy like that, right? “Well, I’m in no position to tease you about anything. If ever I’m smitten by affections I’d want to be respected on that front, too,” I said, then gave Skyfire a deadpan look. In fact, I’m giving her one right now. Really, Skyfire? Artsy? Dude. Almost every building has some kind of sculpture or statue on it. We just have an appreciation for aesthetics. So… artsy. Nevermind, nevermind! That’s a talk for later. I turned back to Goldwreath and gave the embarrassed stallion a pat on the back. “Hehe, just having some fun is all. You don’t need to worry too much, Goldwreath. She sounds like a good mare. If a bit, ah, quirky. I’ll be sure to act appropriately around her.” “Well, that’ll be much appreciated. I can’t stress enough her… oddities. You never know what might set her off next,” he said. Eh, from what I heard of her then, probably her own shadow or something. I was tempted to ask what exactly he saw in her, but ah, well I knew it wasn’t time for that yet. Goldwreath and I weren’t that close. Yet. He stood. “Anyway, time to gather fuel. We can talk some more later, maybe after an early dinner. I’ll be sure to prepare our rations when I get back.” “How’s about I gather the fuel, then?” I said. “You just start doing what you gotta do. That way we can have a bit more time for talking. I’m actually really enjoying this, you know. The quiet time. I’d have as much of it as possible before all hell breaks loose -- and who knows when that’ll be.” Goldwreath frowned slightly and and looked down. “Well, I get that. And I share your feelings. Just making sure… this isn’t about earlier, is it? I can be more careful this time.” “No, no!” I said quickly. “Celestia, no. Dude, come on, I’m not one to guilt people. I’m just volunteering to save time is all. No ulterior motives. Promise.” He grimaced and nodded. I rolled my eyes and smiled with a sigh. “Boy, you are one self-depreciating fella, ain’tcha?” I said as I patted his cheek. “Uh uh, not good, Goldwreath. Don’t be an angsty prick. That’s me when I’m upset, and believe you me, just one of us is enough.” He looked into my eyes and nodded again. I smirked. “Well great! Now you two boys wait here.” I turned and left. I figured that some of the rooms once guarded by the traps must’ve had some more flamable stuff in them. There was a maintenance closet not too far away from our fire, near the passage that lead to the outside. I stepped inside and started looking around. From that dark corner, over the muted howls of the outside winds, I made out the echos of Goldwreath’s voice: “So how’s the shoulder? You think you’ll be better within a week?” “Well, it’s hard to say,” I replied, attempting to lift my injured foreleg. A stinging jolt ran up my spine. I grit my teeth, and Goldwreath immediately frowned and looked downcast. I forced on a smile. “Ah, well actually it’s not as bad as I thought it’d be, so I have that going for me, which is nice.” Despite our combined efforts, what Skyfire and said clearly hadn’t quite convinced him things were alright. The guy clearly had confidence issues of a sort. Which, in some weird way, kind of… put him in my debt. The reversal of our positions was not lost on me. If I weren’t in such pain and if it didn’t cause him such distress, I might’ve enjoyed it. “Still,” he said, “I’ll redouble my efforts to ensure this sort of thing doesn’t happen again, and you are personally under my care until you’re healed.” He brought out a few small metal plates and a pan out from his saddlebags, along with some plastics filled with shreds of dry meats and vegetables. He poured these into the pan, and hydrated them with sweet-smelling liquid from a small bottle. Then he set the pan over our shrinking flame. He sat back and took a deep breath. “And… I suppose I must say thank you. For saving me, I mean. I would not have died, I think, but who can say for sure?” He gave me a wan smile. “Half a day together and you’re already showing your character. I shouldn’t be surprised. The speed with which life goes on out here astonished me the moment I stepped beyond Marediolanon. I should be used to it by now… ah well. You’re alright, Delvius.” I could tell Delvius here was smiling. Probably widely. The guy points out confidence issues in others, but he’s a needy zebra himself. Needs all the affirmation he can get. Hey! I… well, yeah, okay. Fine. At the time, yes, I took every single compliment I could get. Everyone needs some good things to latch onto when all they have is taken from them. Keeps them sane, you know? Gives them hope. I was starting to realize just why old people liked approaching me. Just being entertained can mean the world to someone. Eh, well the only old people I knew were the jackasses back in the Enclave. Maybe I’ll develop this sympathy for the oldsters when I’m one, too. For now they just look funny to me. And smell funny, too. Oh, you will. I guarantee it. Eventually, Skyfire returned. She had a whole pile of crushed papers and clipboards and other assorted junk balanced on her back, between her upraised wings. She dumped them onto the ground and started gingerly putting little pieces into the flame, slipping the fuel underneath the pan. We waited for a few minutes for the stew to heat up. The aroma filled the air with tangy sweetness. Then we ate in silence. After a while, though, we heard it. Tic… tic-tic-tic… tic. A clicking sound, like a wooden rod tapping cement. I couldn’t pinpoint its source. From the look on Skyfire’s face, she was just as confused as me. “You hear that?” she said, straining her ears and squinting to try to determine the source. “I… can’t tell what it is. Or where it’s from.” She stood up, the barrels of the twin rifles strapped to her sides glowing with wicked green. If this was a threat, she was ready to face it. For my part, I pulled out Quintilius’ sword and held it close. Goldwreath stood as well, but pulled out neither blade nor gun. He trotted forward with little caution to be at Skyfire’s side. I gave him a confused glance before returning my eyes to scanning the dark. The two pegasi stood together, one crouched in a battle stance and the other mysteriously not so. The green glow was cast eerily upon the walls of the hallway. The clicking sound stopped. I held my breath. Then came the heavy thuds. Now those I could pinpoint; they came from the dining area of what was once a restaurant. The source moved further and further… then, lit up by the glow of Skyfire’s rifles, a huge silhouette lumbered into the hallway. It stopped for a brief moment, as if noticing us. Then it continued forward, the weight of its steps reverberating through the ground. “Hold it right there, you! One more step and I’ll turn you to goo,” Skyfire snarled, the barrels of her rifle crackling. But the figure only kept coming. “Not necessary,” Goldwreath said, much to my surprise. He tapped Skyfire on the shoulder and bade her lower her weapons. Then he trotted forward and stopped just short of the doorway. The figure stopped as well, its form indistinguishable from the black. I couldn’t make it out; I could apply no detail to it aside from ‘large’. The figure spoke, and its civility and calmness contrasted with how menacingly primal the boom and hiss its voice possessed: “My thanks. Desire could not have been found in me to embrace suffering at the behest of plasma bolts. Your hospitality flares up surprise in my mind. Tension reigned in our last meeting.” “I like to think I’m not one for grudges,” Goldwreath replied evenly, but there was an undertone of disdain -- like he was forcing on civility of his own. He let out a huff. “What’re you doing here, Predator?” Skyfire glanced at me. I just shook my head and shrugged. Clearly there was no danger, but we still weren’t comfortable with the situation. Skyfire may have had her rifles down, but I kept my sword up. Just in case. “Would surprise come to your mind if I said that I’m here for you?” the thing, er… ‘Predator’, said. Goldwreath looked shocked, and honestly, so was I. “For me? What for?” “Well,” Predator corrected, “More of for all three of you. I just happened to be in the area when this drastic change in climate’s mood swung in. I realized you may not have been prepared for it, given your background. The mood struck me to lend assistance to my fellow DA. I’m sure our employer would appreciate cooperation among his operatives.” Goldwreath thought for a moment. “Our employer…? You’re working for Vesperius, too? You?” The surprise in his voice was evident. To this, Predator chuckled; a ghastly laugh that echoed through the dark and sent my skin crawling. Skyfire stepped back. “I told you I had skills, did I not? Vesperius has need of my skills, just as he has need of yours. And you are… effective at diplomacy, yes? You have shown promise in this regard. Excellent qualifications, but I’m afraid Vesperius gave you a task more reliant on my capabilities. Perhaps he believed I was too busy. I am always at work. But this task of yours is easy and I will claim it. At the least, I shall assist you with the task. And so here I am.” “You know a whole lot about me and my assignment,” Goldwreath said plainly. “How is that?” “We work for one who believes information is key to all things. I am of a… parallel line of thought,” Predator replied. Goldwreath gave him a long, disdainful look. “Well then,” Goldwreath said under his breath, “If you are here to help us on our mission, I suppose I’d be a fool to refuse.” His tone was that of grudging acceptance. He grumbled. “So what’s the plan? I would have us rest for the night to come, but if you feel otherwise, speak your mind.” “I can easily operate under the cover of darkness,” Predator replied. “But... it is a fine plan. I take solace in the night. I suggest we move out in the early hours of tomorrow, however. This weather will not improve any time soon, I think. I can provide you all with temporary thermal clothing, but the longer you stay out here without proper attires the more your bodies will suffer. When we return to the Legion -- and we should do this as soon as possible -- you must aquire proper winter gear.” Goldwreath nodded, now seeming just a tad more comfortable with things. I suppose I felt a little better, too, what with finding out the guy was apparently Goldwreath’s acquaintance. And a helpful one, at that. I was still feeling alright, but I was near a fire. Chances are, out there, I’d be dead from hypothermia with what I was wearing. Thermal clothing didn’t sound too bad. Well, you Roamans are just more used to the warmer climates of your land. Roam’s nearer the Equator, right? Equestria’s colder in general, and as a pegasus I spent quite a lot of my time up in the sky. Things tend to get a bit chillier up there. But heck, even I was starting to feel the chill. The danger averted, I took the chance to step away from Goldwreath and huddled back near the fire. Goldwreath must’ve noticed my need for warmth. He turned to Predator -- who I couldn’t even see, by the way; except for maybe the faintest of outlines -- and gestured to the fire. “Would you, uh… like to join us?” he offered tentatively. “No. Thank you,” Predator replied. “I’m quite comfortable where I am.” Goldwreath snickered, “In the cold darkness?” “Mhm, that’s right.” Goldwreath gave him a long look, then opened his mouth to say something. But then he just shook his head and came over to take a seat next to us. I heard bunch of heavy thuds where Predator should’ve been: in the dark hallway. My guess was he took a seat and leaned against the wall. Goldwreath put a little more fuel into our fire. “Are you sure you’re fine out there?” he asked again. “Yes. After all, we’ll need a sentry, will we not? I volunteer. Should a danger approach, I shall greet it. You three, rest in peace. The night will be safe. I... guarantee it.” The three of us exchanged looks. His tone was vague and unsettling, as assuring as the words themselves were. Eh, maybe Predator’s speech pattern was just like that -- for example, I can’t help swearing often. It just happens. I wanted to believe the guy was at least decent and meant what he said, so I just shrugged and let it go. We finished our early dinners. After that would’ve been time for chatter, but between Goldwreath suddenly not being in the mood, and Delvius looking tired, I figured we’d just find another time to be all close and friendly and shit. I wasn’t in a rush to tell them about myself, anyway. When the time came, the time came. I had no secrets, but there were some things about my past I wasn’t exactly proud of. I guess I should’ve been glad I didn’t have to spill the beans so early in our partnership. We ended up just relaxing. Eventually, Delvius fell asleep. Goldwreath seemed completely lost in thought, staring into the fire and all. He’d glower and smirk and nod, as though he were talking with himself inside his head. I got bored fast. I excused myself from the fire, and Goldwreath gave me distracted nod. I made my way over to the doorway. I couldn’t see him, but I knew this Predator dude was in there. I could feel his eyes on me, but how he felt I couldn’t say. Curious, I guess? I sat down and leaned against the doorframe, then looked into the darkness. The guy liked the dark, obviously, and had made a point to not be seen. Now I normally wouldn’t trust fellows like that, but if Goldwreath at least tolerated him then I could cut the dude some slack. Staying in the dark wasn’t all that different from wearing a mask, anyway, and I often wore the mask of my helmet. “So… Predator, huh? That your callsign or something?” I asked. “And, uh… sorry I threatened to turn you to goo earlier.” “It would’ve been of no consequence, so don’t worry. And yes, Predator. My callsign? Hm… you can say,” he rumbled back. Up close like this, the sound of his voice sent vibrations through me, like I was sitting before a loud stereo. Pretty awesome, actually. Vibrations felt nice to me. He didn’t say anything else. So I prodded, “For what organization? You got a name?” “My own organization. As for my name, it is irrelevant. Names cement us to construed notions of self and role. I prefer greater… mm, fluidity.” “Ah. Cool.” I pulled at the collar of my armor. Boy, this guy wasn’t making things easy. “So it’s... like puberty or something? That weird time when developing mares and stallions are told to explore and stuff so they can find what they’re good at and make lots of friends? Cause I’ve always been told becoming too comfortable with yourself in that time would’ve been a waste. Like… you stop exploring. You don’t learn new things.” “The analogy holds substance,” he replied. “Mm, yes it does… we could say, then, that I am still undergoing puberty.” I grinned and jumped on the opportunity. “Dude,” I said with a snicker, “That’s fucked up. You should check with a doctor or something, heh.” “Your attempt at humor is wasted, I’m afraid. Perhaps if I were in a more jovial mood… but I’m not.” I sighed and hung my head. “Oh. Well, sorry.” I cleared my throat and scratched at the back of my head. Maintain a conversation with the guy or get an early rest… both were starting to seem equally unpleasant. “So hey, I know you probably value your alone time. You seem that sort. I… can’t even see you.” I held my hoof out and tried feeling for him. “See? Can’t. Still, you wouldn’t happen to mind entertaining a chatterbox like me… would you? I don’t really sleep all that much. The other two over there are being… eh, a bit boring. Probably just tired or something, you know? At least you seem willing to talk,” I told him. “Sort of, anyway.” “Is that what you wanted? Conversation? Mm, should have stated your intentions outright. For all I knew you simply wanted to irritate me. I prefer a level of clarity when it comes to these things. Actually, despite what you may think, I rather... enjoy conversation. Do not mistake my isolationist tendencies as unwillingness to converse -- it simply means I often believe the others around me are not worth talking to, but they could always prove me wrong. Conversation is good. It exercises the most of important of all a sentient’s capabilities: thought. You need only supply the topic and I shall put a spin upon it. Do not lose hope. Let us proceed. “Here, I’ll set us up. To address your attempt at a joke earlier, obviously it’s not the physical kind of puberty. In that regard I am quite, mm... well-developed. But to keep oneself in uncertainty, to be fluid and easy to morph… chaotic, you could say, but I prefer the term ‘dynamic’. To switch between lines of thought as easily as changing gears, to… to operate under and within constant change? That is my mantra. One can only do so much by just being one type of person, but be any person one desires… ah, suddenly everything is within reach.” He took a deep breath. “It’s intoxicating. The power to be had is… overwhelming.” He chuckled to himself -- you know, one of those stereotypical evil ‘mwahahaha’ sorts of chuckles. I should’ve been worried, but heck, every word the guy spoke was accentuated with enough sardonic amusement to make everything he said sound wicked, so I really couldn’t tell. “There. I have sown the seeds for something deeper than casual talk. Let the intellect of my words flow through you. Well, that’s how I view my own thoughts anyway. A cut above the usual junk that enters minds. Perhaps I am a narcissist that way.” I waved my hoof dismissively, just glad I finally had something to work with. “Ah, we’re all narcissistic somehow. I can’t blame you.” I pointed to myself proudly. “I, for example, believe myself to be the best flyer in all of Roam… under the assumption that Goldwreath over there is as incompetent with his wings as he’s shown, and that any other pegasi in these lands are worse than me. So, yeah. Narcissist.” “Could be fact, in which case you would be justified in your pride,” he replied. “A truth is truth regardless, and should be acknowledged and celebrated. From what I’ve heard thus far, Skyfire… you certainly seem quite capable.” I grinned. “Hey, you know my name! That’s...” I frowned. “... pretty damn creepy. How…?” “As I told Goldwreath, information is a prime interest of mine. You are a scout. Surely you know the importance of… reconnaissance. I make it a point to take note of everyone of interest in the case of… oh, some emergency or other.” He snicked. “At least you’re interesting.” “Oh, well thanks. I think.” I shook my head. Truth be told, even though I got the guy to open up to me, I wasn’t finding things to be much more engaging. Maybe the next day, when I could see him and hold conversations just a little less draining and… normal. “Hey,” I told him, “Thanks for chatting me up, but turns out I’ve got some stuff to think over. So…” “Yes, of course. Good afternoon, Skyfire. I will wake you three up at the first strike of morning. Rest well.” I smiled at him. “Alright, cool. Seeya, dude.” With that, I stood and pushed away from the wall. I made my way back to our fire. Goldwreath seemed surprised at my return. “You left? Where’d you go?” he asked. “Just struck up a conversation with Predator was all.” “Ah.” He squinted. “And… how’d that go? I know him to be a rather curt fellow. Doesn’t talk much, and when he does he’s a bit of downer. Not really someone I can stick around with.” “He’s okay, I guess. I’d say he could work on his social skills, but I have a feeling he just doesn’t care. Makes me curious instead of irritated, really, but right now I guess I’m just a bit tired. I could always talk with him tomorrow.” He raised his brows at me. “Well, if that’s what you want to spend your travel time on, go ahead. Me, I think I’ll stay up. Type out my report to Vesperius, keep the fire alive… the works. I’ll catch some sleep too, don’t worry.” I nodded. “Yeah, sure, alright. Afternoon, Goldwreath.” I got comfy against the wall. I wasn’t actually tired or sleepy, really, but if I stayed up until I felt either of those I surely would’ve started dwelling on… ugh, emotions. You know, the bad stuff. Like what I’d left behind back home -- ah, I mean… back in Equestria. Thanks, but no thanks, you know? I left all that stuff behind for a reason. I closed my eyes and focused on thinking about nothing. After a while, though, I heard the clicking sound again. I wondered if maybe Predator had throat problems, cause that sound did not sound natural. “Afternoon, Goldwreath. Afternoon, Predator,” I said. “Yeah, afternoon, Skyfire.” “To the void of sleep, go.” I turned to my zebra friend, curled up and facing away from the fire. “And good afternoon to you, too, dude.” All that said, I closed my eyes and resolved to fall asleep. … Heh. Heheh… you actually thought I was asleep? Nah. I was busy writing down notes. I was having fun with it, too. It was like I was writing a story as I was living it… and, well, as we now know, that’s exactly how it turned out. Quietly, I transcribed the events of the day. “... and along with Goldwreath’s statement, Predator, too, said, ‘To the void of sleep, go.’” I spent the rest of that day making sure all I’d written so far was as correct as I could remember.