Over the course of weeks, the amulet quickly became my most prized possession.
I found that I could not possibly separate myself from such an exquisite and amazing novelty. However, the amulet did affect me in strange ways. My armor, supposedly blemish-free and slicked to avoid scratches, had developed an oddly shaped stain on both of my flanks. Garter had giggled and pointed out how similar they were to cutie marks, and it was true. The stains were placed exactly where her own serpentine marks coiled. Beyond the new pair of unsightly blotches, I also discovered that my battery, my core, the place where I store my magical energy, was malfunctioning. That was the only explanation as to how I could run back from the outermost Ruins to camp and back again without even losing the top one-percent of my battery. The amulet was simply radiating so much magic that it replenished my supply as I used it.
Of course, I had yet to tell Lionheart, Money Bag, or Garter about my spectacular find. Mostly because I knew they would confiscate it. A magical gem that enables me to run infinitely without running low on energy? That was something that could make the lot of us rich. Or, and probably more in they way of their thinking, it could be my independance.
For years, I had depended on Garter’s spells and on Money Bag’s crafts to power myself. Now with this small red charm, I could go weeks without so much as a huff of tire (which I had been doing). But my newfound loyalty kept me with them. They needed me more than they realized, and I wasn’t going to abandon them just because I no longer needed their help.
But my sudden incitement of honorability and loyalty was not the only change I was beginning to realize in myself.
Every night for the past six days, I made sure the gem was still wedged beneath my armor, between it and my skeletal chassis. It was compulsive; I barely even thought about my developing obsession with my belonging. It was, after all, my first actual possession. Everything I had was merely lent to me by Lionheart and the others. This amulet was the first thing that I had scavenged that I chose to keep for myself. But it wasn’t necessarily a good thing.
On the few nights I deactivated myself as a courtesy to my friends, I could still feel the magic from the amulet. I saw the rainbow-colored pegasus several more times, but she never spoke to me. Just glided around in my thoughts, performing aerial stunts in my mindspace.
The mornings after were now full of questions, yet not from me. Rather they came from a fairly concerned Garter, who had also began to recognize the changes that were ravaging my circuitry.
“Relic, are you feeling okay?” Garter asked me one day, when the clouds weren’t as thick and you could barely make out the round shape of the sun.
“Yes, miss. Why do you ask?”
“Well, you haven’t been actin’ like yourself lately. Ever since that dust storm. I mean, last night I heard ya talkin’ in yer sleep. I didn’ think that was normal for a synthetic.”
“I would not know what you are talking about, miss. And synths do not sleep, we merely deactivate ourselves for a small period of time. It would be entirely impossible for a synth to vocalize in these moments.”
“I swear I heard ya talkin’ last night.” Garter said, obviously not believing me. “You were sayin this name over an over again. I think it was ‘Dashie’ or somethin’ like that.”
“I… I would not know who that is, miss.” I lied.
I lied! I had just lied to a pony, and for a moment I almost didn’t realize that I had done so. I had never before thought it were possible for a synth to lie. I had seen ponies lie before, especially Money Bag, who probably lied at least ten times a day. But I never lied before in the entirety of my existence. Synthetics had programming to prevent them from lying to ponies unless under direct orders to do so. But I hadn’t been given an order to lie! I just did it, all on my own.
That fact shocked me so much, that even Garter could tell how visibly shaken I was.
“Relic…” She said softly. “You’re worrying me… Are you okay? Did something happen in that storm? I knew we shouldn’t have sent out there by yourself.”
“I worry myself as well sometimes, miss. Do not fret yourself about it. I am fully functioning and still perfectly suitable for service.” I said. This time around, I wasn’t sure if I was lying or not. Was I okay? How could I possibly tell if I was malfunctioning or not if the amulet protected me from damage and magic deficiency.
“If ya say so, Relic…” Garter murmured as she let herself out of the main tent.
I sat there in guilty silence until I once more heard the tent-flaps open. Garter had returned, poking her green head in.
“Oh yeah. I forgot to mention. You’re with Money Bag again at the market. Lionheart’s request.”
“Ah yes. Thank you, Garter.”
She cast me once last, saddened look and gently shook her head. Then she was gone. That was the last time I would ever see my dear friend; having just lied to her and pushed her away when I should have asked for her help. The moment she left the tent to help Lionheart with packing up the wagon, she also left my life. And as she left my life, an unwanted adventure swiftly took her place.
“Hurry it up, Relic! We ain’t got all day!” Money Bag called to me, once again leading the way into town. “Visitors are comin’ from some village out East!”
I knew this already. Lionheart had briefed me on the exact same subject just before we left camp. Camp was only a few hours trot away from the town, but Money Bag seemed to think there was more time than that to educate me on the subject of the villagers. I chose to tune out his unceasing banter. I took half a second to raise a hoof and rub at my armor, where the gem was safely tucked away. That’s when Money Bag caught me rubbing at my chest.
“What’s wrong, gearhead?” He teased. “A little heartburn?”
“Something of the sort.”
“Ya know, if you’re havin’ any problems you should stick behind. I’m sure the villagers won’t want to see some broken down synth getting in the way and makin’ a mess of everything.”
“I’ll be fine.” I said, figuratively brushing off his fairly poor logic. The villagers weren’t going to be gods here to judge us for our deeds and crimes. They were just ponies, like anypony else in the Ruins and beyond. Maybe a griffon or dragon hatchling every so often, but beyond that only the most normal of ponies came to the town.
“Money Bag?”
“Yea?”
“I’ve never thought about this, but what is the name of our town?”
“Uhhhh…” Money Bag looked suddenly deep in thought. “I think it’s just Ruin Town. Or maybe it’s Runeton. I’ve heard Lion say the name once, but I never really remembered.”
In my mind, I began to draw a map of sorts. So we were based approximately sixteen miles away from Ruin Town or Runeton. The Ruins themselves were far larger, wrapping around the side of an entire mountain. Beyond the ruins, I knew there was a small mountain range. And past that was what last patches of fertile land were left, where the villagers came from. From what I could recall, the small amount of land was called Sweet Apple Acres. Except I knew for a fact that nopony had grown an apple there for generations.
“Why have we never bothered to remember the name of our town?”
“Dunno, Relly. Maybe we just didn’t want to. Pretty sure we were always expectin’ to go to a new town after this one.”
“How many towns are there in the Ruins?”
“Gee, I dunno. What’s with all these questions? What do I look like, a thesaurus?” Money Bag snided, grinning at his clever comment.
“I believe the expression goes ‘what do I look like, a dictionary?’” I corrected. Money Bag’s smile slid off his face and was quickly replaced by a hurt scowl.
“C’mon.” Money Bag grumbled, pointing a hoof at the nearing shacks and huts of the trading town. “We’re almost there. And I bet the villagers are, too.”
The two of us pulled into our usual spot in the market square. I recognized familiar faces in the crowd. I saw Kitten practically draped across the shoulders of her owner, that tall imposing figure of Mr. Porter. I saw a cousin of Money Bag’s, Doubloons I think her name was. And then I saw countless more ponies and synths of the Ruins. It was surprising exactly how many lived in this desolate area. And the fact that over three quarters of them scavenged as we did was impressive. I wondered to myself about how much buried resources there were beneath the Ruin’s lone mountain.
We set up shop as usual, and waited there in an almost eerie silence with the other ponies. Minutes passed. Nopony spoke. Nopony even looked at each other. All of us were busy scouring the horizon, well prepared to start selling as much of our wares as possible.
“There!” A mare, whom I knew as Quickwits, shouted. She pointed a hoof eastward.
I zoomed in on the area and that there was indeed the characteristic cloud of dust that normally followed large groups of ponies.
“It looks like there’s a lot less this year.” Quickwits said. Everypony in the crowd groaned; there went our chances of leaving with full wallets. “A whole lot less… Wait, what in Tartarus is going on? I think they’re being followed! There’s some sorta monsters! An’ tha bleedin’ idiots are leadin’ them right to us!”
Once again everypony in the crowd looked to the horizon with bated breath as we watched the approaching band of ponies be repeatedly attacked by flying somethings. Most of the ponies in our crowd began to panic. I couldn’t exactly make out what the flying beasts were, but they were far too large to just be some breed of bird. And they were far too fast to be dragons or griffons.
“EVERYPONY!” Mr. Porter suddenly bellowed. “We gotta get ready fer a fight!”
Several mares, fillies, and colts squealed and started stampeding towards the shacks and cabins. The stallions meanwhile started digging through their wagons. Unicorn stallions simply levitated menacing clubs and swords, while several Earth ponies pulled out antiquated magical weapons. Laser rifles and pistols, and one stallion even tugged out an entire light cannon out from his wagon. We were well armed, yes. But it seemed that there was over a dozen of those flying creatures.
“Relic! Charge up yer taser! Let’s show these varmint how scavengers tussle.”
Oh right. I allowed energy to surge into my only defense mechanism. As I did so, I felt my little trinket instantly refuel any energy I spent. Money Bag started shuffling through our wares, looking for any sort of weapon. I knew we didn’t have one, but maybe another stallion would lend him a gun or-
“THEY’RE HERE!”
First, the villagers poured in. There was only about two dozen of them, a lot less stallions than we had expected. The majority of them were foals. I saw Kitten, weak and delicate little Kitten, come galloping over and led the young ones away into the cabins. Porter meanwhile ushered over mares and handed small weapons to the five or six stallions that had come along from the village. I was pleased to see that Money Bag was not left out in this dispersal of firearms.
Next came the creatures. They were enormous, each one of them. Their faces were terrible muzzles holding mouthfuls of long, cruel fangs. Behind the glaring yellow eyes were thick manes of fur, and behind the manes were a pair of long wicked wings, like those on the bats I occasionally came across while scavenging. The creatures’ muscular legs ended in hooked claws. And the entirety of the monster was completed by a tail like that from a scorpion. I recognized this beast, it was one I often heard from stories of travellers who pass by.
“MANTICORES!”
Hell broke loose. Ponies immediately began to fire upon the Manticores. Unfortunately, the majority of laser bolts seemed to deflect piteously off their thick fur. Several Manticores simply swooped down and lifted hollering ponies up into the sky to tear into shreds. The light cannon would hum and fire enormous explosions of energy into the air, evaporating one or two of the monsters before it had to recharge. I saw out of the corner of my vision, Money Bag aim with a pistol attached to his ankle. Before he could fire at the beasts, one of the larger specimens gave barreling down from the sky towards him.
A pang struck me in my circuitry. I felt the magical aura of my amulet suddenly swell, and a red light began to flow through me. Big adventure, I thought at random.
I immediately stopped my own struggle with the monsters and galloped to Money Bag’s aid. The Manticore had Money Bag’s head in its powerful jaws, chewing while I heard my friend inside scream on the top of his lungs. I fired my taser directly into the creature’s back, and blasted it with so much raw magic that the beast’s fur grew charred where the taser connected. It dropped Money Bag, who collapsed upon the ground, bleeding heavily.
I retracted my still-sparkling taser and ran to him, a puddle of scarlet blood already pooling. He was in bad shape. One of his eyes had been gouged out, and there were deep cuts all over his face and scalp. His mane was nothing more than tatters. And I could see the white of his skull beneath some of his wounds.
“Money Bag? Are you okay?”
“Ya saved me, Relic.”
“Of course I did. Now give me a shred of cloth from your bag. I need to close your wounds.”
“Relic.” Money Bag said, raising a hoof to my chest. “Help the others.”
“But, sir-”
“No. Help them other folk, they’re more important. They’ve always been more important. Go help ‘em, an’ that’s an order.”
I immediately stopped grabbing at his satchel upon hearing that dreadful word. My own ocular sensors locked with his one remaining eye. It was a stunning blue color. I’d never noticed how colorful his eyes had been.
“Go.”
I stood up, giving him one last look, before I ran over to assist in any way I could. The light cannon had been overwhelmed, and his remains were strewn about the town square. I galloped over his decapitated head and shoved aside the rest of his corpse. Taking the light cannon controls, I saw the charge meter was once more at 100%.
I swiveled the cannon to face a large pack of the creatures, who were busy devouring some screaming pony who had come in from Sweet Apple Acres.
I pulled the trigger with my hoof, and the cannon exploded into the group. The majority were evaporated, while others were left without heads, legs, wings or rears. They scattered; all the while letting out ghostly howls that chorused with the screams of dying stallions. The cannon now read 20% and was still charging. Even if it was the most effective weapon, I would have to find something else. I abandoned my post and made a mad dash for one of several abandoned lasers on the ground.
A Manticore (or rather, half a Manticore; the cannon had done a great deal of damage) lunged for me. I felt myself knocked back as the massive heap of burning muscle and fur started to claw at my armor. I knew I could withstand dust storms and angry mares, but I wasn’t so sure I could stand up to a Manticore, even if it was on the brink of its life. The Manticore used a clawed paw to grip at my chestplate, and began to pull. Alarms and warnings flashed across my visor, but I was pinned.
It ripped off my chest plate, leaving bare wires and circuits exposed. But I didn’t care about that. To my horror, I watched as the red gem fell from the chestplate, clinking as it landed on the ground beside me. This is the moment I die, I thought, I’m powerless.
I closed the shutters over my ocular sensors and prepared myself for the fatal blow.
“WHO’S READY FOR A PARTY CANNON?!”
I opened my eyes once more and looked just in time to see rose-colored mare from Sweet Apple Acres standing boldly, holding a blue mortar cannon that I was almost positively certain that I had not seen come in with the villagers.
KA-WHUMP! A blast of confetti and air knocked the giant Manticore off of me. I clambered up and grabbed my amulet, careful not to drop it once again. The note on the back had fallen off, but that was okay by me. As long as I still had the gem itself.
“Hey!” The mare said excitedly, waving from her position behind the cannon.
“You-”
KA-WHUMP! Another Manticore came crashing to the ground.
“-have-”
KA-WHUMP! This time a stallion fell to the ground with a sickening splat. I winced just before the Manticore that had been holding it tumbled down as well, falling on the already dead pony.
“-one of those-”
KA-WHUMP!
“-amulets, too!”
The Earth pony mare left the cannon and bounced over towards me, oblivious to the massacre happening around her. Her ridiculously poofy mane jiggled with each skip, like a purple bush perched on her head. I would have found it comical had I not just witnessed the death of one of my friends and of so many more innocent ponies.
“I’m Mica Pie! Mica for short! From Sweet Apple Acres!” She reached a hoof into her bulbous mane and produced a glimmering round gem, colored pink. “Lemme see yours!”
As I flashed her the red lightning bolt, another Manticore swooped down towards us. Before I could even think to launch my taser, the mare’s mortar cannon that had been well over three yards away was suddenly in Mica’s hooves. With another characteristic KA-WHUMP the Manticore fell to the ground, splashing in the mud made of dust and blood.
“That’s really funny. Yours is a different color than mine. And it’s a different shape! Mine looks more like a balloon.”
“What is a balloon?” I asked, genuinely confused. This mare was absolutely chaotic, in every sense of the word. “How did that cannon teleport to your side? You’re not a unicorn, you’re an Earth pony. Earth ponies can’t teleport objects!”
“YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT A BALLOON IS?!” Mica shrieked. She ignored my other questions, stuffing her gem back into her mane and removing several colored strips of rubber. She began to spit into the balloons while I made my way back to the light cannon. By now, it had surely recharged.
There were only half a dozen Manticores left. I was confident that I could exterminate the last ones before they realized there was even more food in the wooden shelters.
“Hey, you two!” A harsh voice hollered. It was Porter, his hat and coat both torn in several places. “Where’s yer master, synth?”
I paused, slowly turning around to face Porter. The dark stallion’s face was grimy and soaked in blood. Hatred burned in his eyes, boring into me. I knew he was trying to intimidate me. But I wasn’t his synth, Kitten. I was an independant synth, who needed no master.
“Dead.” I replied. My core grew cold. I knew it was true; Money Bag would have surely bled out by now. Now with double the effort, I dragged the cannon to aim directly at the final horde of Manticores. “And now so are they.”
I pulled the trigger, and the last of the beasts dissipated, its individual molecules redispersed into the air.
Thirty-five dead.
Countless more left behind when Sweet Apple Acres was attacked. Nopony knew how many Manticores attacked, nopony knew how many were still at the Acres. And I was the only one asking where they all came from. Nopony cared about where the devils came from. They cared about themselves. In fact, most of the merchants were more upset to find that their wares had been destroyed in the firefight than to discover the corpses of their friends littering the ground.
Kitten was praised for her quick thinking. Many were surprised that a FF-5b, a prostitute synth, could save the lives of so many foals. Mothers and foals blessed Kitten, who was as clueless as ever as she accepted their hugs and appraisals. At least until she informed them of her rates. That’s when the families began to edge themselves away from her.
Porter, of course, immediately began to take credit for killing all of the Manticores. Not that I cared. He could take the credit if he wanted, I just wanted to find a way to delete my memories.
And as for Money Bag?
I came to find him as I suspected. Dead, cold and lifeless on the ground. But he was smiling, and I had an idea as to why. He had sacrificed himself, basically. He knew that in allowing himself to die, he’d in turn save the lives of all those mares and foals. Money Bag died a hero; in his own, unique way.
I reached down a hoof to brush his matted mane out of his face.
Looking at the smiling pony, I realized that I no longer wanted to be in the Ruins. I had my amulet. I was independent now. I could leave this place, be whatever I wanted. That fact was horrifying. What else was there to life than scavenging and overcharging for your finds?
“Hey.”
I whirled around and came face to face with the rose-colored mare from before.
“I’m sorry about your friend.” Mica Pie said, kicking one of her hooves at the ground.
“It is fine,” I answered. It wasn’t.
“I really, really, really needa know about your jewel, though.”
Bemused, I reached into my chestplate and extracted the shining gem.
“This?” I asked. “I picked it up a few weeks ago. And what was it you said earlier? You have another one? But I thought the one I saw was different looking. How do you know they are the same?”
She produced the pink gem and held it out for me to hold. We swapped, her receiving my gem and me receiving hers. As soon as I felt hers, an extremely inappropriate feeling of happiness and pleasure flowed through my body. The feeling was unnatural in this environment, with blood literally on my hooves and corpses of ponies being dragged away for a mass cremation. I tossed the gem to the ground in disgust, but quickly realized my mistake. This too was a gem of power much like my own.
“Whaddaya think?” Mica asked, picking up hers off the ground before tossing me mine.
“They are the same… But different.” I answered as I caught the gem. “Do you know what they are?”
“No, but I’m sure my Granny Pie knows. She knows a whole bunch about this sorta thing.”
“Is that so? Where is she?”
“Back at Sweet Apple Acres.” Mica said with a smile. Probably dead, I thought to myself. “Wanna go meet her? It’s only a days walk away!”
“I’m not sure, Mica…”
“What? Didn’t you want to leave anyways?”
I stopped trying to make an excuse and gazed at the mare. I didn’t recall telling her that information.
“How did you know that.”
She merely shrugged.
“I know alotta things that I shouldn’t know about anyways. I know about Porter’s kink-slave and I know about rock farming and I know about this one author pony who’s a skeleton and I know about all sorts of funny things! Like jokes! Wanna hear a knock knock joke?”
“No.”
“Okay! What’s black, white, and red all over?”