//------------------------------// // Chapter Three: The Pale White Rider // Story: Cutie Mark Crusader Saviors of the World // by D101 Reviews //------------------------------// Chapter Three: The Pale White Rider The World Outside Had Its Own Rules, and Those Rules Were Not Human... The door to the Bloody Nose was suddenly kicked in and a figure rushed inside, followed by several young foals, all in grubby clothes with dirty, soot stained faces and arms. The first figure was a tall, hooded someone, lost in brown robes. Whoever they were ushered in the foals until the last little figure stumbled through the doorway. The first figure paused, looked back out through the doorway and dashed back outside again. Applebloom, Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo watched as the figure came back in again with an unconscious unicorn filly slumped in her arms. Someone dashed over from a nearby table and it took Applebloom a moment to realise that it was Redheart. She took the filly from the figure and carried her gently to the stairs where she disappeared swiftly from sight. The other foals were swiftly ushered into place around a few empty tables and drinks were quickly handed out by bartenders at Hard Liquors' behest. The hooded figure watched to make sure that the young foals were all provided with drinks before they wandered over to the bar and sat down next to Scootaloo. "Hey Hard," came a tired, flat voice from beneath the hood, and Applebloom felt as if she recognised the mare's voice if only slightly. "Sorry about saddling you like this out of nowhere but-" Hard lifted a hand to silence her apologise. "You're doing a good thing here. They have nowhere. Literally nowhere. Providing a home for them even if it's for a little while isn't something that needs an excuse or an apology. We'll be sure to treat 'em right." "Thanks." "Don't mention it," Hard said smiling. "You want the usual?" "Don't act like you don't know me." Hard barked a laugh and pulled a bottle of sarsaparilla from beneath the bar and handed it to her. "How long are you staying in Ponyville this time?" "For as long as I can I think," she sighed and pushed back her hood. Applebloom had to hold back a gasp as she saw the mare's face. Her mane was razor straight and her eyes were older and filled with such a weight she had never seen in them before, but there was no mistaking that bubblegum pink coat, that hot pink mane, those baby blue eyes and the Cutie Mark of three party balloons. Pinkie Pie twisted off the cap of her sarsaparilla and necked the bottle for ten seconds straight before she slammed it back onto the bar. "He still after you then Pinks?" Hard asked. "You're looking at The Rider's Number One Bounty," Pinkie said with an air of disinterested pride. "Still, managed to get a leg up on him this time I think. He might be a week behind? Maybe a little less? I'll be outta here before the equinox at any rate." "Any idea where you're headin' next?" "Somewhere to lay low," Pinkie muttered, swirling her drink around in the bottle. "There's a lil' place in Manehatten I can use for a bit. Provided no one else is at least." "Back to the Rebel's Nest eh?" Hard muttered under his breath. "Can't say I blame you." "You know about that?" Pinkie asked. Hard chuckled. "The Rebel's Nest is Manehatten answer to the Bloody Nose. Where do you think I send people who need to make a run for it? 'Snot like I can send them east." "Why's that?" Sweetie Belle blurted out. Pinkie gave her a sideways look from the corner of her eye. "Where you been living?" she asked, here eyes narrowing in distrust. "Easy Pinks," Hard said. "Their orphans. 'Pparently their orphanage was burned down a few weeks ago." "Yeah," Applebloom chimed in. "They didn't really talk al lot about the outside world. Not a lot of news swung past us." "That right?" Pinkie muttered, looking away and drinking from her bottle again. "Take it easy Pinkie we'd know if they worked for him," Hard said, a touch firm. Pinkie sighed and rubbed her eyes as he looked at the three young Mares. "Towns and Cities towards the east of Equestria are closer to the gates of Tartarus, and so you get a lot more demon shit going on there. A lot more ponies getting hurt. A lot more fighting and a lot more monstrous shit. I seen that place a few times. I've run with the Captain a fare few times getting supplies for Ponyville and some moola on the side; been with Pinks more times than I can count to rescue ponies trapped in the eastern slave camps. Trust me. You don't go east unless you got nowhere left to go. Heck I'd rather swim for it than go east." Pinkie sighed and looked at the barman. "I'm tired Hard." "I'm sure Redheart'll get you a bed set up," Hard said, touching his arm to Pinkie's shoulder. She shook her head, resting her elbow on the bar and cradling propping her face up again it. "I'm tired of running Hard," she groaned, slumping slightly. "Back and forth across the shit hole of a kingdom. Always looking over my shadow. No sleep. No chance to escape. No future." "I know Pinkie... I know," Hard said, stroking Pinkie's shoulder as she began to sink slowly onto the counter top. He looked up and nodded and Redheart came back and wrapped her arm around Pinkie's waist, draping the other mare over her shoulder. He watched as his friend was slowly carried away and rubbed his nose on the back of his hand. "Poor kid." "She can't hold her liquor," Scootaloo muttered. "Nah she could drink me under the table," Hard muttered, picking up the bottle. "This is a special blend though. It's for ponies who have trouble sleeping. And boy howdy there aren't many ponies who have more trouble sleeping than Pinks." "Why's that?" Applebloom asked, trying to ignore the painful wince she felt at the familiar jerk of Applejack idiolect. Hard looked at her and sighed, cleaning an empty glass. "She used to work on a rock farm," Hard muttered. "Good family the Pies. Tough. Resilient." He shook his head. "They were all a little different though. Pinks had this way of dealing with stress. She'd always look on the bright-side of some horrible shit-hole mess. Then she made the mistake of helping somepony." "Why's that a mistake?" Scootaloo said, her eyes narrowing. "It was a mistake for her at least," Hard muttered darkly. "She helped somepony who needed it. She felt what it was like to make somepony else smile. That was it. She got her Cutie Mark. She was marked." "Marked?" Sweetie Belle repeated. "She got that mark in front of the wrong person. Some poor sap who was down on his luck. He saw what her mark was an' ratted her out." "To who?" Scootaloo whispered, suddenly cold. "The Pale Rider. Death." Silence greeted his words, but Hard was not done. "Death has this thing. He can't stand ponies being happy. And the idea that somepony might just be born to make others happy... it just drives him straight up the wall." "So he hunts down ponies who make others happy?" Scootaloo summed up. "He does more than hunt them," Hard growled. "He's made a fucking sport out of it. He's got a hit list of ponies who've managed to avoid him and his Reapers. Bounty Hunters looking for an easy kill and some quick cash usually rush out to haul the poor bastards who get on his bad side back to his little hidey hole." He sighed, setting the thoroughly wiped glass on the bar and pushed his mane out of his eyes. "I think there's a league table for the best bounty hunters." "Ponies actually compete?" Sweetie Belle whispered, appalled. "Why do you think Pinkie's so paranoid? She's Death's Most Wanted. She knows that anypony anywhere could be after her. Could see her and try to bring her back to be ripped to shreds by The Pale Rider." "A lot of ponies have tried to take Pinkie over the years," Redheart said as she sat down where Pinkie had been before. "They usually don't live to regret it." "How's she doing Red?" Hard asked her. Redheart rested her hand on Hard's wrist and smiled sweetly. "No nightmares so far," she said. "Thank goodness. I don't think I could handle a repeat of the last time she was here." "Don't let her hear you say that Red," Hard muttered. "She'd kick herself if she found out about that." "I know I know," Redheart sighed. She looked sideways at Sweetie Belle and smiled softly. "How's your head dear?" Sweetie Belle smiled back. "I feel a lot better than when I woke up. Thanks." "Nothing to it," Redheart said waving away Sweetie's thanks. "It would have felt a lot worse though if you hadn't been found when you were." "Pretty strange finding you by the ol' tailor's," Hard admitted. "Not many people go around there since the fire." "We thought it looked out of place," Scootaloo said. "A lot of the building's are falling apart but that place had been burnt to cinders. There a story to that?" "There's always a story around Ponyville," Hard grunted. "Rarity was a good mare. Kind. Made clothes out of rags that still had some flair and passion to them and never asked for a penny in exchange. She made fancy stuff as well. If there was any business in Ponyville that was up and running it would've been Rarity's shop. She made a decent living... just wasn't enough I guess." "Enough for what?" Sweetie asked, fearful. "Her mother," Redheart sighed. "I'm not sure if you know this, but Rarity's father and younger sister were murdered several years ago. Sweetie Belle had always been a sickly filly since she was born, barely just made it out of the cradle. Her father took her out to the park for a while. They were killed that same day. A few days later Peal just sort of began to wither. It wasn't quick and it wasn't painless." "What was wrong with her?" Applebloom asked, aware that Sweetie Belle was unable to talk. "She'd just given up," Redheart said shaking her head. "She lost her will to live and her body just started to shut down with her. Rarity tried everything to get her up again, she sunk every penny she didn't spend on keeping herself alive to trying to kept Pearl back on her feet. The amount of times I had Rarity in here due to malnourishment..." Hard put a hand on her shoulder and shook his head. She looked at him and nodded. "Suffice to say when Pearl finally passed on we all feared Rarity would go the same way. She shut herself in her shop for days and didn't come out for anyone. When we saw her again though she looked better then she had in a while. Dour? Yes. But there was something in her. Something other than desperation. There was determination." "Three months after Pearl died Rarity set fire to the tailors and skipped town with a bag on her back," Hard said. "No one's heard back from her since." "Is she...? Is she...?" Sweetie Belle couldn't finish the question. Hard shook his head. "I think Rarity's still out there. Doing her bit to help some poor fucker in need. Like Pinkie." "Pony's skip Ponyville often?" Scootaloo asked idly. "Not really," Redheart shrugged. "Ponyville's usually a quite town. I think there's only three who've skipped out in recent memory. Pinkie, Rarity and AJ." Applebloom froze. "A... AJ?" she croaked. "Applejack. Poor girl," Hard sighed and shook his head. "If Applejack's still alive Rarity's gotta be. I think AJ broke after what happened." "What did happen?" Scootaloo asked, Applejack and Sweetie too stunned to speak. "Something to do with the graves we passed coming here?" "That'll be it," Hard grunted. "Sweet Apple Acres. The Riders don't really do anything big but, aside from Cloudsdale, this was the worst shit they've ever done. Folks around here call it the Sweet Apple Massacre." "The Apple Family run orchards all over the western side of Equestria," Redheart said. "They were celebrating their family reunion and then suddenly famine was there. Poor bastards never knew what hit 'em. Applejack was the only survivor." "Did she... did she bury them alone?" Applebloom whispered. "We offered to help," Redheart sighed. "But she just said: 'Apples take care of their own' and told us to go away." "Took her a week," Hard muttered. "When she was done she packed up what little hadn't been burnt and ran. We haven't-" The door to the Bloody Nose was kicked in for the second time that day. Hard straightened up suddenly and his eyes went wide, his pupils shrinking into his head. "No... Why him?" A pony in a long black robe stepped through. Tendrils of some smoky mist wafted from beneath the trailing hem, from the billowing sleeves and under the low hood. Skeletal white hands emerged from beneath the sleeves, clasped before him. The air in the bar was cold, the atmosphere turning icy. All the heat seemed to evaporate and the light seemed to dim. Everything seemed to focus on the new figure. Hard grasped Redheart and she looked at him, hands clasped over her mouth, eyes shining with pure terror. "Take the foals upstairs," he hissed. "Now." She nodded and gestured for all the foals Pinkie had brought through earlier, quickly and quietly ushering them all towards the stairs. The hooded figure watched with interest as he stealthily glided towards the bar. The other patrons shuffled back or abandoned chairs altogether. Hard looked at Scootaloo, Applebloom and Sweetie Belle and gave them a strange look. He needn't have bothered. The three of them weren't going to say anything about Pinkie. They didn't need to ask who this was. "Mister Liquor," said a voice. A voice as smooth and honeyed as velvet. A voice that pressed in on the ears of all that heard it. "My lord," Hard said, his voice taking on a strained humble tone. "We haven't got a rather impressive collection my lord. If we had been informed of your arrival we would've stocked the kitchen for you-" "I require no sustenance from your establishment Mr Liquor," the voice said, cutting Hard off abruptly. "I fear I would upset your... clientèle with my presence. I am merely here on an... enquiry." "An... an enquiry my lord?" "Yes. I have reason to believe that one Pinkie Pie has been through this establishment in the past few days." "W-who?" "Don't play games with me Mr Liquor I am aware of your establishment's reputation. Many a bounty hunter have come through here. If anyone were to know of my most wanted of the Marked ponies. Now, you shall face no repercussions if she has frequented this location in the past few days. I am merely questioning where she may or may no be heading." The figure leaned in here, revealing two glowing silver lights beneath the hood. "I know she was here, Mr Liquor. This is for certain. When is another matter." Hard gulped. "She... she comes through from time to time," he muttered. "She... she has trouble sleeping. We give her a bed and something to drink whenever she comes here. It's usually for a night and then she's gone. She left yesterday." "Yesterday? How interesting," the voice muttered. "And where pray-tell would she be heading?" "I... I couldn't say for certain," Hard managed to croak. "She jumps from one side of the kingdom to the other more often than I serve drinks over this counter. She hasn't been seen in the East for from what I hear. Maybe she's gone there? Shake off a tail maybe?" "Sound reasoning," the voice said, the figure straightening up again. "Thank you for your cooperation Mr Liquor. I hope I haven't disturbed your patrons." The figure turned to go, but paused to look at the three young mares sat at the bar. He froze and the liquid in every glass and bottle froze with him. His glowing eyes were fixed on Sweetie Belle. He peered at her and she shied away from his sight. He turned sharply, and the voice returned, harsh, splintered, frosty like the most bitter of winter nights. "Mr Liquor... might I enquire as to who these are?" "They... they came into town a few days ago," Hard muttered. "They're from an orphanage that burnt down a while back. Just drifters." "Just... drifters you say?" the voice clipped, looking back at three of them. "Interesting." "My lord they've never been to Ponyville before," Hard whispered. "They have nothing-" "I am no longer concerned with Pinkie Pie Mr Liquor, and this matter no longer concerns you," the voice snapped. The figure leaned into Sweetie Belle. There was something of smile in the voice's next words. "How I've longed for this day. All three of you wrapped up like a present in a bow. How my master will reward me." "Bony!" The figure spun and there was a bang that sounded like thunder. The figure lurched backwards toppling over the bar and slumping. The temperature returned to normal and Pinkie strode in, wiping sleep from her eyes, a metal contraception clutched in her right hand. Her hand was clutched and shaking on the handle, her finger resting on what appeared to be a tiny lever. A single long barrel as long as Pinkie's hand stretched from the end of the handle, interrupted only by a loose, revolving cylinder with six hollowed chambers. The barrel was smoking. "Whiskey," Pinkie grunted, shoving aside the figure's slumped body. It landed on the floor with a thunk. Hard shook his head. "For fuck's sake Pinkie why'd you go and pull a stunt like that!?" "Self-preservation now give me a fucking whiskey!" Pinkie roared. "He was fucking you the whole time he knew I was here! He just wanted an excuse to burn the fucking place to the ground!" Hard grunted and poured Pinkie a whiskey. She snatched the glass up with her free hand and downed it. "Is that it then?" Hard asked. "It over?" "Fuck no," Pinkie growled, kicking the body beside her. "This is just for show. Panto act. No fucking way he'd be that easy to bump off. He's nearby though. I got what, twenty minutes to get the fuck outta dodge?" "You didn't get much sleep." "No shit," Pinkie sighed rubbing her eyes. "I'm cranky today aren't I?" "Yeah well you got reason to be," Hard shrugged. He nodded to her right hand. "Put the gun away Pink's the guys are getting edgy." Pinkie blinked, looked at her 'gun' hand and quickly slipped it into a leather holster on her hip. "Sorry... didn't realise I still had 'er out." Hard shook his head and turned to Sweetie Belle. "Any idea what the fuck he was talking about?" Sweetie and the others shook her head. Hard looked back to Pinkie. "Pinks I think these need to go with you." "And why's that?" Pinkie asked, looking at the three of them. "Pinkie he forgot all about you the moment he saw them," Hard hissed. "He was willing to let you go just because they were here." Pinkie blinked. "Fuck." She looked at the three of them and shook her head. "Alright grab your shit kiddos we're moving out." "We don't have anything," Applebloom muttered. "Good. Drink up. We got a lot of walkin' to do girls."