Dust and Harmony

by KitsuneRisu

Perfect Day

The old panhandler’s trail leads from the western edge of Ponyton to the mountains far off in the distance, curving around Full Moon Bluff on its way to the rivers behind. It is a place where the path can barely be seen any longer — only a few spots of ground in a lighter shade poke out from behind dying shrubs and reddish dirt.

The Old Stallion once walked this trail, the first in a dozen moons past, perhaps out of desperation to eke out a living, perhaps out of lust for the history of his lands. But these details are not as important as the fact that Old Stallion did stumble off the road, thanks to the weather and the winds. Starving and weak, he travelled with stick and hat as the Dust engulfed him, ready to swallow him the moment he buckled at the knee.

The Dust sent the wolves.

They scampered and clawed over rocks, teeth sharper than flint, eyes black as coal, claws ragged as rusty saws.

The chase didn’t last too long. The Old Stallion exhausted his endurance as he fled the wild animals. And on that day, he lay himself down, buckling at the knee, and the Dust had him readily.

He was a simple traveller, nothing more, and died a traveller’s death. It was a simple story for simple folk that gathered around the campfire at night, a cautious anecdote to those who might be tempted to wander, and a warning for those who venture down the old panhandler’s trail.

There is, however, a different version of this story — a version told when the fires are put out. It is a story told to children, to send them crying to their bed. A story told to make the cold nights colder.

This version tells of the time when the Old Stallion, faced down by wolves, six or seven a-pack, backed up against a sheer canyon wall, knelt down and prayed to the Dust to save him.

And the Dust sent a devil.

It came, like a train on legs, and yet, still a pony, with a mane of great white smoke and skin made out of steel. The canyon rumbled at its step, with hissing steam and growling eyes filling the air with dread and death.

The devil turned its grotesque head, obscured by fog, with glowing white eyes peering out, and made a bargain with the Old Stallion.

Would the Old Stallion like to live, it asked, waiting, as if to accept sacrifice before it would make a move.

And all the while, the wolves would snap and snarl, surrounding the devil, for even wild beasts knew it was a far bigger threat.

The Old Stallion prostrated himself, throwing himself down to beg for mercy or a painless death. There was no telling which the devil would choose for him, but he left it to the whims of the gods and the fate he had been assigned since birth by the Dust itself. And it was with a whimper did he ask — beg — for his life.

And the devil obliged. It glowed an unnatural white: the colour that marks the devil and all of its Gearhead spawn. It took an instant, and the crash of thunder, like a great hammer had been brought down upon a rock, and all the wolves lay dead at the feet of the devil.

And with a huge puff of steam, the devil raised its hoof, pointing down a particular way, lending freedom and lending life to the Old Stallion. But it was always a life borrowed, for a few months later, after the Old Stallion had spread his tale, he placed a bullet into his own head out of the fear of when the devil would come collecting.

For this was a story about how the devil uses others to make itself known. About how it trades life for life and always wins the final draw.

And how there isn’t anything anyone can do to stop it.

---

Dust and Harmony

Chapter Eight :: Perfect Day

---

“Rain’s comin’,” Mayor Celeste said, as she turned her gaze towards the thundering clouds on the horizon.

“Don’t feel good ‘bout that,” came a dull reply.

Celeste motioned, flicking her mane slightly.

Sheriff Twilight paced up, joining the mayor by her side, as the two of them watched the horizon from under the shade of the tree behind the blacksmith’s.

“I dare say we have a lot to talk about,” Celeste said.

“Yeah. Little bit.”

Their eyes didn’t meet. Twilight refused to give Celeste a single expression. Nothing good would have come from wearing her thoughts on her sleeve.

“Let me make it easier for you,” Celeste said, talking slowly and with deliberation of words. “Nothing you say during this conversation will I hold against you.”

“That ain’t possible,” Twilight snapped back.

“Ain’t it?”

“Ain’t no such thing as not holding a grudge,” Twilight declared, eyes narrowing.

Celeste proceeded calmly, not a ripple on her surface. “Then how may we proceed in your best scenario?”

“You explain.” Twilight took in a deep breath. “I listen. But I ain’t in the best of moods, Mayor.”

“I know.” Celeste nodded. “I didn’t fairly put you in a situation which expresses my trust toward you. You have the right to be angry.”

Fine then. If Twilight had the right, then she was going to use it. “Why, then?” she burst out with a yell. “Why all this circus? Why not just tell me from the start? Tell me you knew what I was? Tell me what all of this was for?”

Celeste sighed, drawing in a breath as long and heavy as the winds that swept through the canyons. “Would you accept ‘trust’ as an answer?”

“Would you accept my resignation as a response?”

“Fine.” Celeste puffed her cheeks as she thought. “I’ll tell ya. But before we go on, you best know that I did trust ya. One hundred percent of the way. And I needed your help. And I know you would have gladly helped if I had asked—”

Twilight opened her mouth to interject, but held her tongue anyway.

“—but there was something I needed you to see.”

Twilight’s eyelid twitched. “And what would that be?”

“I needed you to see…” Celeste hesitated, knowing that the answer was not going to be enough. “The town.”

“You… coulda just told me everythin’.” Twilight shook her head, her eyes full of incredulity.

Hers were the eyes of a pony who suddenly realised that everything she saw was through a thick veil of perfumed silk. It looked nice, felt nice, but ultimately blurred the truth that lay just behind.

“You had to see the town.” Celeste reasserted, forcing the truth in as gently as she could.

“You could have really just told me everythin’!” Twilight burst out with a yell.

Celeste’s shoulders slumped, her regret apparent.

The door behind them suddenly swung open with a bang.

“Hey, hey!” Spike said, twirling through the entryway with a small banged-up tray. “I got some refreshments for the lovely mayor and the fine sheriff!”

Twilight cut herself off with a cough, while Celeste busied herself recomposing.

The Dragon tottered over with two metal mugs. “Fresh lemonade, courtesy of Moonshine!”

Celeste peered over.

The two mugs were filled with hot water. Each had a slice of lemon suspended unceremoniously within.

Twilight drew her gaze away. “That’s fine. Thank Dash for us. Leave it here.”

“Righty-o!” Spike chortled, putting the tray up on a fencepost. Then he twirled around, and just like that, just as quick as he’d arrived—he disappeared back into the shop.

The interruption was awkward, but gave the duo ample time to think. And sometimes, a moment to think is all that’s needed to let things settle. Twilight held her head up to the evening sky, letting the cool breeze wash away her irritation.

“I don’t like bein’ misled,” she muttered.

“I know.”

“I would’a done a better job if I knew what the job was.”

Celeste bowed slightly, offering her humility. “And I honestly apologize.”

“It’d been easier if ya did it yerself,” Twilight said bitterly.

“Yes, but that wasn’t the point.” Celeste said.

The sheriff watched the sun crawl down the line between land and sky, as it bid farewell. “So, you’ve always known.”

“Hmm?”

“That I was like you. That I got magic like you.”

Celeste seemed to meditate on those words, lost in her own memories and swirls of the past. She explained, but did not dwell. “I heard all I needed to, way back when. I confirmed it recently.”

Twilight’s mind shot back to the train that she’d arrived on a little under two weeks ago. How it mysteriously ran out of coal at such an opportune time. How she’d been forced to use her magic to drive it. How much of a coincidence that’d seemed. “One of the many things you coulda just asked from the start.”

“And if I had?” Celeste shot back. “Would you have appreciated the question? You think you’d’ve liked that any?”

The truth always got in the way. As much as Twilight wanted to force the notion that she, in her infinite wisdom, would have been open enough to accept being accused of being a Gearhead, she was bitterly rejected from denial.

It left Twilight with no choice but to draw in a fresh batch of night air slowly, before releasing it again. “Right.”

“We both know what questions like that stir in us, Constance. We both know what troubles it leads to. Had I made it a point to ask, you'd not have taken this job in faith either. We never needed no attention drawn to our horns.” Celeste’s eyes flicked up to the metal tip on Twilight’s own. “I like the new look, speaking of which.”

The sheriff closed her eyes. She didn’t feel much like a sheriff at that point in time. She felt like a deputy again, simply dancing around to irregular orders instead of heading off her own assignment. It was worse that the puppeteer was a familiar hoof.

“Constance,” Celeste said.

Twilight didn’t answer. When she flicked open her eyes, her found her vision blurred.

“Constance, tell me the truth. Why are you so angry?”

Twilight felt a pit of heat rising in her throat.

“Constance, why—”

“I don’t know! Okay?” Twilight spat the words out, furiously, stamping her hoof into the bark of the tree, tearing her eyes away from her mentor. “I don’t know! It’s just a job, right? But I don’t like that I came here, had to do all sorts’a shit, and now I’m not even firin’ the gun? What was all of this for? What’s this all about, Mayor?”

“Constance,” Celeste repeated, calmly, her voice cutting through like a razor.

Twilight gave a final frustrated groan before clamming up fiercely, pushing her face into the tree.

“Listen. You’re good, alright? You’re okay,” Celeste said softly. “You know, you’ve always been a real great lawpony, and a pony of fine, fine character. But you know what your one problem was?”

Twilight gave a soft grunt. It verged on being something else — something quite new to her altogether.

“You only ever did anythin’ for yourself,” Celeste said.

“What are you talkin’ about?” Twilight snarled. “Everythin’ I did, it was for you, for Cantermore and for the people!”

“No. That was your duty, I’m talking about… well… your heart.”

“My what?”

“Look.” Celeste flicked her head to the street, watching the ponies distantly as they milled about their innocent lives, retreating for the day as it slowly came to a sudden end. “This small… tiny town. A few years ago, Cantermore was a little bit like this. But in a few short years, we’ve grown so much. Faster than any other city on the continent.” Celeste looked down at her compatriot. “And it’s easy to sit up there, waitin’, and pretendin’ that the rest of the world don’t exist. But it does. Good, honest folk. People who have lives and troubles just like everyone else.

“I needed you to see this, Constance. I needed you to get to know what it is all this is for. I just… wanted you to know why you’re doing something more than just because ‘I told you to’.”

“I’m sorry, Mayor, but…” Twilight’s brow scrunched up harder than a wrung towel. “What in the flamin’ Dragon dander does any of that have t’ do with anythin’? You give me an order, and I follow it. That’s how it works.”

“My city wasn’t built up on those ideals,” Celeste said. “I can’t have someone be my main Sheriff that’s just gonna be a steam machine. You get me?”

Twilight blinked, pausing. Mouth flapping open as she tried to figure out if she misunderstood what she had just heard. She rolled the words around her head over and over, before she stepped back, clearing her throat to ask Celeste to repeat herself. But the Mayor was always one step ahead.

“Yeah, Twilight. I’m meanin’ for you to take over Sheriff Mare when you get back,” Celeste said with a slight, encouraging nod. “I’ve been intending for a while. Sheriff Mare? She never thought… radically. Not like you. But you, you never did anything with heart. You always just followed orders and went home at the end of the day, to a lonely, cold room.”

Twilight felt like responding. She felt like giving a witty reply, maybe a comment about how her room wasn’t that cold or that lonely.

But she didn’t have the energy to lie.

“And in the span of a couple weeks here, why—you now have a fine deputy of your own, a blacksmith and a doctor who both seem like they’d follow you to the ends of the trail.” Celeste wrung her lips. “That’s a pretty big jump from ‘Constant Constance’, isn’t it? As they call you down at the station.”

“They… call me that?” Twilight mumbled softly.

“Yes. They do.” Celeste turned to face Twilight directly. “Listen. Doing stuff out of duty is fine. It’s great. But ya know what? I don’t want that. I got three accountants and two administrators who already give me a whole shotgun fulla 'yes'es and ‘yes ma’am’s every day. I need someone who can challenge me, push me, and thereby push th’ town further. But in order to do that, you were gonna have to grow as a pony.”

That pony slumped her shoulders, scratching a sudden itch that popped up on the back of her neck. “So all this… was a test?”

“No.” Celeste shook her head. “Not a test. A… lesson.”

Twilight sighed, her anger subsiding and giving way to new, fresh emotions that she rarely felt and rarely allowed herself to feel. The ball of heat in her chest unravelled and flattened out, turning into a cold blue string that limped out of her throat. “You know, I don’t feel like I learnt nothin’.”

“Then tell, me. Why are you angry?”

Twilight spat it out quickly. “I said I don’t know.”

“Yeah but then you kept on yellin’ after that, didn’t ya? You said you were angry about not bein’ able to fire the gun, right? So I’m askin’ why.”

“Look…” Twilight mumbled, shaking her head, shaking loose the dirt in her throat. “I dunno. It’s stupid.”

“Constance.” Celeste turned her head to the appearing moon. “Tell me or we’re gonna be here all night. You can stake on it.”

“I… feel annoyed that I ain’t gonna be the one stoppin’ Lune myself.” Twilight rubbed her forehead, as if there were something stuck in it. “I dunno why. Seems like it should be a relief, yeah? Why stick your neck in the noose if you ain’t gotta? But… somehow.” Twilight’s eyes darted back to the warm, flicking glow of the lights forcing their way through the cracks of the door that led back to the blacksmith’s shop. “Somehow I still wanna.”

“New sorta feelin’?” Celeste asked.

“Yeah,” Twilight tilted her head back. “Feels like shit, too.”

“I mean, what’s there to lose if you don’t fire the gun?” Celeste continued.

Twilight meditated on those words, thinking about it all as she sunk lower and lower into bleakness.

“Then I can’t rightly say I finished the job,” she finally admitted.

“But you have. You have done exactly what your duty stated, and you have finished. Isn’t that so? The old you would have gone home, without all these emotions, and wait for a new assignment.”

“Yeah.”

“But you still feel bad about it?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Because I gotta protect them, Dust take it!” Twilight yelled, exploding. She squeezed her eyes together, moisture gathering and forcing itself out of the corners where they streaked down her cheeks. “Damn it! I can’t leave them, can I? This ain’t about trust! This ain’t about who’s gonna win at the end of the day! But if I just up and leave like none of this ever happened then how can I call myself their…”

Twilight cut herself off from the storm suddenly, biting her lip as she let the clouds rage and rumble under her skin and in her mind. She drew inward on herself, throwing her head down, rubbing the tears out of her eyes as she shuddered uncontrollably.

“Constance. Today’s a day where we’re feelin’ a lot of things we don’t rightly wanna feel,” Celeste said, breathing her words through her teeth. “So’s I ain’t gonna make you say what you don’t rightly wanna say. But I want ya to know something real important. This is what I feel for every single one of the ponies here in my territory.”

Twilight swallowed heavily, forcing herself back into composure.

“And that’s all. That’s all I wanted you to learn. That’s the real fire in a pony’s heart. That’s the real thing that makes us go.” Celeste flicked her head to the side. “Loyalty; listenin’ to orders; faith — those are all fine qualities to have. But you needed to have people worth dyin’ for. And that’s the real magic.”

Twilight scrounged her face, blowing air out from between her lips in stark dismissal. “Ain’t no such thing as magic.”

“I think you’d be surprised, Twilight.” Celeste placed a gentle hoof on her back. “All you gotta do is want to believe.”

“Look. Call it what you will…” Twilight sighed. “I still gotta do something. I still gotta fire that gun. Don’t I? I need to protect everyone.”

Celeste didn’t even give it a second thought. “It really ain’t that I don’t want you to shoot the gun, Constance. It’s that you just… can’t. Nothin’ personal, right?” She shrugged, looked at Twilight. “We’re going up against Raven Lune here. Your gunwork’s impressive, but that means nothin’ to her. There’s only one pony around I trust to match her. And I’m afraid that ain’t you.”

Twilight kicked at the dirt. “So that’s it, then? I just head on home?”

“I didn’t say that, did I? I said you weren’t firin’ the gun.” Celeste said, with a twinkle in her eye. “I ain’t never said you didn’t have nothin’ to do.”

Twilight’s jaw dropped open. “Wait. But… You…”

“I’m really proud, Twilight. You’ve come all this way all by yourself.” Celesta gave her slyest grin.

“But you said,” Twilight gasped.

“Twilight. I said I needed your help. That weren’t no lie. It’s just gonna be with somethin’ else.” Celeste twirled her hoof in the air.

“Damnit, Mayor! Fine. I get it.” Twilight huffed, determination returning. “So, if I’m not gonna get on a train back to Cantermore, then what do ya want me to do?”

“Well.” Celeste smiled. “First, I want you to get on a train back to Cantermore.”

---

The blacksmith’s shop was oddly warm — not in temperature, but more for the mood that danced in the air. A wave of laughter and jokes came from the few others who milled around the main floor. They hung off the countertops and slouched in the corners, all enjoying cups of ‘lemonade’ and chasing away anticipation.

It was a jovial tone for such a serious night, but the fact that Matron Cheerilee was there helped tremendously. She was busy at work perking up the faces of Moonshine, Spike, Angel, and Big Mac, who rounded out the crew.

But at the opening of the door, all smiles and snickers dropped, giving way to ominous gravity—save for Big Mac, whose face didn’t really have to change.

Sheriff Constance S. Twilight strode in, hat placed upon her brow just so, shaking the cold off her vest and clearing her throat.

“Alright,” she began. “Just had a talk with the Mayor. Lune is coming, tonight. She’ll be layin’ waste to this here town on the way to Cantermore. She’s comin’ with some kind of weapon, I dunno. Celeste doesn’t reckon she knows what it might be either, but she knows its name.”

“And what name would that be?” Spike asked.

Twilight nodded, shifting her jaw around. “Nightmare.”

Four sets of eyes blinked. Big Mac snorted.

“That’s a kind of… well. I suppose that’s a fittin’ name,” Moonshine said. “Can’t say I quite like it any.”

“Either way, we can expect her to be extremely dangerous and really damn angry. So what we’re gonna do now is get everypony, and I mean everypony, onto the train, which will high-tail it outta here back to Cantermore.” Twilight jerked a hoof over her shoulder. “Just to be safe, the train’s gonna meet up with another train halfway down the tracks loaded with supplies and medicine and stuff, where you guys are gonna switch cabooses. Got it?”

She swung her hoof at Dash, Angel, Big Mac and Cheerilee in order. “ You four, as community leaders, are in charge of doin’ this. And we needed t’ get started ten minutes ago. So get. Spike, you stay behind.”

Dash tilted her head, her scruffy mane bobbing in the flickering lights of the nearby lanterns. “That it?”

“Yeah,” Twilight said.

“What about you and Spike?”

“We’ll be along shortly. We gotta clean up after ourselves. Can I leave the evacuation to ya?”

“Understood, sheriff,” Big Mac said immediately. With a great shake, he lifted a plentiful amount coal dust off his coat, and left without another word.

“Then I shall away as well, my dear,” Angel trilled, sweeping out the door after him.

“And I shall inform the customers at the bar and the henhouse!” Cheerilee stated, leaving as well.

Dash pulled herself to her hooves. “Well. I guess I’ll pick up the edge of town. See ya guys later.”

And then only Spike was left.

“Hey, uh…” he mumbled.

“Yeah?”

“So there’s this guy here called Stefan Magnet, right?”

“Who’s that?”

“Some Ryu. You know. Long Dragon. He runs some kinda trinket store here.”

“What about?”

“Can we like, leave him here?”

Twilight’s look was the type that told Spike that he was about to get a gun shoved up his nose.

“Just asking!” Spike held his hands up in surrender. “Anyway, what are we doing now?”

“We need to talk,” Twilight said, voice low.

“Uh… okay.” Spike hopped up and sat on the edge of one of the countertops, there in the dust and scraps of metal. “What’s going on?”

“Spike… I…”

Twilight went silent.

Spike’s eyebrows wobbled. Twilight sounded weird. Her voice was inflected with a tone that Spike had never heard before. It sounded… what was the word?

Unangry. That was it. It sounded unangry, and unsarcastic. Genuine. Slightly pitiable.

“Ya been a… good deputy,” Twilight finally said. “I’m glad… uh… that I asked ya to come with me. From Cantermore. You’ve performed admirably, and I’ve told Mayor Celeste that… she should consider you to officially join th’ sheriff’s office.”

Spike blinked. “Wait… what? Whoa. What?” He held out his stubby arms straight out. “Hey! Twilight, what’s going on?”

“Shut up,” Twilight commanded softly. “Get on the train, and go back to Cantermore. Do you understand?”

“Well, I mean, we’re all going, right?”

“I’m not.”

Spike stuck out his tongue, tasting the air for some evidence of a joke. “Say again?”

“I’m stayin’,” Twilight said. “I got to make sure once and for all Lune don’t ever cross into Cantermore. Ever.”

“But… you can’t fire the gun, Celeste said?”

“No. But I still got things to do. I got my part. And you got yours. This has been fun, but… this is where we divvy ways.”

“Twilight, but…” Spike said. “I thought…”

“You thought nothing. I told you from the start, right? I just needed someone for this job and then nothing more.” Twilight huffed, shrugging harder than she probably had to, face remaining stoic. “Well, the job’s over. So you go back to Cantermore. Go talk to Celeste afterward to find a job. Or go do your dumb tricks again or whatever. I don’t care. But you can’t stay here.”

Spike just stared at her for a couple seconds, mouth agape. “Is that… really how this is gonna end?” he asked.

“Yes. For you, for Moonshine and for that dumb creepy doctor.” Twilight said. “If things go well, I’ll meet up with you back in Cantermore, but… well. I’ll go down trying, and I refuse to do anything less.”

“This… this is serious, Twilight.” Spike jumped off the counter, walking closer to Twilight, his face, in a rare occasion, not holding some sort of internal bemusement. “This is… did Celeste ask you to do this?”

“No.”

“Then why in the shit…?”

Twilight bit her lip. “Because it ain’t about duty,” she said. “Okay?”

Spike dropped his arms to his side, not believing the words coming out of her mouth. “Twilight… do you… want to do this?”

“More than anythin’ I’d ever done since the day I came t’ Cantermore,” Twilight said. “More than.”

Spike scratched the back of his head, shuffling his feet. “Well then… I guess. I guess that’s it?”

“Yeah. That’s it.” Twilight faced forward, staring at the back wall. “Now go.”

“O-okay, Twilight. I’m… I’m going,” Spike murmured, wide eyed, still in a dream, walking to the door.

Slowly he opened it. It creaked.

Twilight didn’t move.

“Goodbye, Twilight. It was real nice knowing you. And I really mean it. You’ve been a good friend,” came Spike’s voice.

And then he was gone.

Twilight turned as the door clicked shut. She didn’t know why, but she stared for minutes at the handle, as if there was a chance that it might turn once more.

But it didn’t.

With her throat dry and a throbbing pain behind her eyes, she sniffed, looking down at her gun and badge.

It was time to face the storm.

It was dark, and the engine was already churning when Twilight snuck aboard. Everyone was gathered in the cramped passenger and cargo cars. They were certainly not meant to carry an entire town-full of ponies, but avoiding an untimely death was a very good motivator for dealing with a bit of spatial discomfort.

Twilight stationed herself in the engine compartment, watching as the town grew smaller and smaller as they pulled away. The train was moving backwards this time; the nearest line-switch station was many kilometers away, definitely too far for them to risk heading to it to make a proper turn.

Ponyton was no longer a town. It was a dead collection of rickety buildings. An emporium. A collection of stores. A saloon. A doctor’s office. A blacksmith’s. And a home for two weeks. But no heart. They had stolen its life and moved it away to save it from being extinguished. All that was left was the husk, like a cicada leaving its echo behind.

And then it shrunk into a dot, and it vanished in the night.

It wasn't long before the train shuddered to a halt. A clamor rose, with yells of ‘hurry up!’ and ‘get on!’ echoing through the desert. Dancing lanterns played with the shadows as Twilight peeked through the window, watching scrabbling, frantic ponies load up onto the other train. From the engine room, it was easy to see and not be seen.

Sweat poured off the conductor’s brow. It was hard to tell how much of that was from just the heat of the engine room alone.

Twilight turned to him. “Okay. You.” She pointed at the door. “Out as well.”

He pulled himself through the smoke and coal. “Beggin’ your pardon?”

“Mayor Celeste’s orders. You’re to join ‘em too.” Twilight’s face curled up into a glower. “You’ll be headin’ back to Cantermore in the other train.”

“But what about this train, then?” The conductor coughed, gruff. “Who’s gonna take care of it?”

Twilight just looked at him. “Me.”

“You know how ta handle a train?”

“Yeah.”

The conducted shuffled back and forth on his legs, eyes darting left and right. “...Want me t’ help ya load up th’ coal at least?”

Twilight shook her head. “Nah. All good.”

“Well. Okay then.” The conductor conceded. “If’n Mayor Celeste say so.”

The heavy metal door slammed shut as he left, and Twilight was left alone in the darkness.

She waited until she heard the other train’s whistle pierce through the crickets singing out in the night. Then she turned to the engine, dressing herself down for the task at hand.

Back to Ponyton.

There was something quite comforting about being alone again. Like getting back into bed after a long day at work, except that this bed was stuffed with shards of glass and smelled like moss. If you ignored the pain, it was perfectly comfortable.

Twilight was always perfectly comfortable.

She closed her eyes, letting the last ebbing lights from a hanging lantern extinguish in her mind, and focused. She shut out her ears, pushing away distractions, entering a place where there was only her at its center.

It was a small black box that wrapped around her. It went on forever, yet was too small to move comfortably in. But, there was a light inside. It was a small wisp, a white, blinking thing, that ebbed and flowed in and out of sight like the coming and going of the waves.

And it grew. Larger, whiter, brighter, cascading in on itself.

Until nothing could be seen.

Twilight opened her eyes, pouring forth a pure stream of white magic from the tip of her metal-capped horn. Like ribbons they flew, dancing inward and outward, trilling across the air, all enwrapped in a strange sheen. It didn’t quite do it justice to call it white. It was a white that was pure, soft, and full of what could only be described as crystallized soul. It was a white that had a bit too much white in it, and yet, wouldn’t blind you to stare.

The ribbons flapped across the room in waves, landing within the boiler, upon which they started to unravel, for lack of a better word. It filled the whole engine compartment up with light, bulging out as if they were a mass of water pressing against an elastic surface.

And then the train began to huff.

“Wow!” A voice rang out from behind Twilight. “That was… really pretty! Was that Gear magic?”

“What in tarn—!” Twilight yelped, spinning around. She found her two pistols plugged neatly against the faces of Spike and Moonshine, who were both entirely too happy for people who had guns in their faces.

“Hey, Twilight,” grinned Dash, barrel snug against her cheek. “Just like old times, eh?”

Spike just waved.

“She does do that!” Angel gasped from behind.

“What in the Gryphon are you doin’ here?” Twilight yelled, lowering her weapons. “I thought… I said…”

“Twilight,” Spike shrugged, still smiling. “You know, it weren’t too difficult to figure out what you was doin’, you know?”

“Man!” Moonshine said, clapping her hooves together in glee. “That was amazing! Do it again!”

“That was rather beautiful, Miss Constance,” Angel agreed. “You really should have let me know earlier. I would have… loved to have seen it in action much more.”

Twilight just stared, eyes drying out.

Spike chuckled. “And you really thought I was gonna leave you? I’m your deputy, Twilight. Not leaving is kinda my job.”

“Assistant,” Twilight whispered. Some things just were just habitual by then. Twilight’s brain had barely registered doing it.

“And I promised ya, didn’t I? I ain’t runnin’ no more,” Dash said cheerfully. “I’m with ya, Twi. All the way.”

“And I joined up to see some delightful blood!” Angel said. “I don’t rather mind whose blood, but still, I think this would be a great opportunity, wouldn’t it?”

“Uh…” Twilight murmured.

“Just kidding. I’m with you. I made a promise too,” Angel said. Lovingly. Shooting Twilight a certain kind of look that was all too familiar. “I’ll be with you… forever.”

“Okay. Stop that,” Twilight held up a hoof to Angel’s face before turning to the rest. “Look. You guys… you guys ain’t supposed to be here.”

“Well, seems like we are,” Spike said. “And we know, okay? It’s dangerous. We could get killed, and you want us safe. But we wanted to be here anyway. You’re just gonna have to live with it.”

Twilight felt a stirring in her chest. A strange sort of pain that shot like a red hot poker pressed against her ribs. “But… why?”

“It don’t just go one way, ya know?” Spike flicked his fingers between him and Twilight, smiling broadly. “We get it. You found somethin’ you wanna protect. But so did we. And maybe you can protect a whole town, but the three of us, at least, get to protect a friend.”

The little Dragon beamed proudly.

Twilight stood still. Her breath flowing heavily over her lips. Her brow tilted down, hat covering her eyes. A shiver shot through the sheriff, her shoulders hunching. Her tail started to twitch in a way both erratic and deliberate. It may have been a trick of the light, but a spark jumped off Twilight’s horn.

“Uh… Twilight?” Spike asked, eyes darting around the room, his smile dropping. He quickly swung his head to the rear, giving his backup a good, solid help-me look.

Moonshine and Angel took a step backward.

The sheriff was rumbling, like a volcano about to burst. Shaking and shuddering under her brim. She sucked in a lungful of smoke-filled air, hissing through her nose.

“Okay, Twilight? Just… just calm down there…” Spike gestured downwards with his open palms. “Just, calm down. We didn’t intend to—”

Twilight flicked her face up.

“Thank you.” she said, her eyes moist. “Thank you all.”

Spike let his hand hang in mid-air.

Dash blinked. “What the f—”

“Oh my!” Angel, grinning herself ear to ear, pawed at Dash, who decided that it wasn’t important enough to pay attention to, considering.

Spike didn’t grin, though. He took a step forward, reaching for Twilight with a hesitant claw. “Uh. Are you… well?”

Twilight’s smile instantly dropped, her regular glower returning. “Look, I’m trying something new, okay?” Her face hurt keeping it up for more than a few seconds.

“Look, I ain’t… used to all this,” Twilight grumbled. “It burns like someone poured cactus whiskey in my eyes that you asses decided to be here when you coulda been safe up there in Cantermore. Half of me is mad as heck. But the other half… I dunno. Feels somethin’.”

“Maybe…” Dash’s eyebrows raised as her tail flicked. She rolled her hoof in the air. “Happiness?”

“No. Couldn’t be.”

“Wait.” Spike’s eyes were dinner plates now. “No way. Twilight, are you… happy?”

“Listen, shut up,” Twilight growled. “Fun’s over. First of all. How in the Sam Hill did you know I was gonna be here?”

Spike looked to Dash, who shrugged. Angel remained draped around Dash’s neck like a cloak, which Dash didn’t seem to mind. So Spike launched into explanation. “Weren’t too difficult. You said goodbye at the blacksmith’s, not the train station. You didn’t want us lookin’ out for ya on the platform. And there ain’t no reason why we needed t’ switch trains halfway, ‘specially if the conductor also leaves.”

Twilight shook her head slightly, frowning. “And you figured all that out by yourself? How in tarnation…?”

“He’s House Ling,” Dash interrupted. “That’s how.”

Spike turned upward, looking at Dash with a peculiar look on his face.

“Isn’t that right?” Dash said. “I remember where I heard that name before.”

“Is that supposed to mean somethin’ to me?” Twlight asked, breath still heavy.

“You know what? I’ll explain later,” Spike waved a hand dismissively. “We gotta be on our way anyway, don’t we?”

“Fine,” Twilight said, turning. With a burst of regular magic, she twisted the brake lever with a loud clank.

The train shuddered to a start, bursting ahead with a powerful thrust of energy, boiler pulsating with an eerie white that cast grey shadows onto the walls. The jolt sent all but Twilight reeling forward, who braced herself against the frame of the window, where she stared out into the star-pocked sky.

As the night wind ruffled through her mane and flapped the rim of her hat, she looked down to her vest, adjusting her sheriff’s star, which had become a little off-centre.

After all, if one wanted to take down a notorious murderous bandit, one ought to look one’s best.

“There’s a real high chance that we could all be tyin’ up a noose right now,” Twilight said, once her companions had regained their stances. “Last chance. You sure y’all with me?”

She turned from the window, the moon in the distance outlining her face. She regarded her friends, who all looked to her and nodded, not a single drop of hesitance falling off their brows.

“All the way, Twilight,” Spike said, dusting his knees off.

“To th’ end,” Dash said.

And Angel looked around before shrugging. “I’m just here for the blood, really.”

She was felt before she was seen.

Every single step sounded like a hundred oaks creaking in unison, and when she brought each armour-covered leg down, pebbles jumped and popped a hundred meters away like dried corn in a kettle.

Like a metallic tank, on top of those legs were panels upon panels of metal that rippled and shifted and groaned like the surface of the ocean, swaying slightly as the suit of armour walked. They joined together at the edges, like the shields of a legion of soldiers marching together as one.

Pointing forward, a huge beastly horse’s head stuck out, with triple-layered glass for eyes and reinforced steel for skin. Magical white steam escaped holes along the back of the neck, wheezing out a mane of pure grey smoke.

From every single crack poured forth a brilliant white light, pure as the sun but as gentle as the moon.

It looked like a figure from legend.

The devil stopped just before the train tracks, he border that separated Ponyton from the desert.

Our dirt from theirs.

On the other side of the tracks, a mere ten paces away, stood Mayor Clearwater Celeste, smiling calmly and breathing even more so. Slung around her chest were four bandoliers, each packed to the brim with ammo. Slung across her back like a saddle was a web of straps and holsters, each one holding a shiny, thirsty gun.

The two ponies stared at each other, one smiling warmly, the other indiscernible.

After eternity and a half, one of them finally spoke.

“Raven Lune,” Celeste said. “It’s been a while.”

The response came like it was pouring forth from a tin can on fire. It was a hazy, crispy voice, if voices could be crispy, but was muffled by the thick shielding of the helmet.

“Sister,” it replied. “What do you want?”

Celeste cocked her head to the rear. “Perhaps you should come back for a cup of tea? Have a chat?”

If the armour could laugh, that was what it seemed to be doing, huffing out clouds of steam and ebbing its light. It breathed while it waited.

“I asked you what you wanted, sister,” the armour repeated.

“Are we past talking?” Celeste asked.

The armour huffed out a cloud in indignancy. “When have you ever wanted to talk?”

Celeste nodded, shrugging. “Where are they?”

“Is that what you drag me all the way out here for? You send your people to search for me for years, calling me to ‘talk’, just to ask a question that you already know the answer to?” the tinny, metallic voice hissed out of vents alongside puffs of steam.

Celeste’s shoulders raised half-heartedly. "Oh, you know me. I like to do things my own way.” She leaned in closer, changing her tone. “I need them.”

“No. You do not.”

“Yes. I do.” Celeste stood her ground. “Time’s come.”

“Pray tell, sister, what time is coming,” the armour billowed. “I have not known much for many a year.”

Mayor Celeste looked Lune straight. And there was only one thing she needed to say.

“I have to protect my city.”

It was a simple statement. Few words that got straight to the point and left no room for misunderstanding.

The response was equally curt.

“From who?” The armour’s white glow glowed a bit brighter.

“You know very well,” Celeste said, her voice unwavering in its intent. “The ones you turned against me.”

“You did that yourself, as I recall.”

Celeste shook her head. There wasn’t much point in arguing perspectives. “Return the plans to me. I need them far more than you do.”

“After all you have done.” The armour rumbled, puffing out at the seams. ‘You still presume to order me around!”

“I spared you your life!” Celeste spat.

“It was never yours to spare!” the armour yelled back.

The dust swept up as a sudden wind kicked through the town.

Celeste calmed herself down, untensing her shoulders. “Give the plans to me and I will have you rewarded.”

“With what?”

“Gold. Proper gold, this time, as you well know. I believe I’ve… paid back what I’ve owed.”

“Some things can’t be paid back,” Lune said.

“Just take the gold, sister,” Celeste said, voice strained. “And let us once again be on our own ways.”

“And do what with it?” The armour laughed. “Where would I spend money in a world where I am to be shot on sight? Silly girl. Lift my exile, then, and maybe your offer would have some weight.”

Celeste gritted her teeth, pushing them so hard together that her jaw began to ache.

“Can’t do that even if I wanted,” Celeste told her. “You have become legend.”

“Then we are concluded, it seems. I hope you’ve spent your time wisely.”

Slowly, the armour turned. Stamping hard with each slow degree of rotation.

Celeste shuddered under her vest. She bit her lower lip, her breath quickening. She had many cards in her deck but she always hesitated playing the black ones.

“Sister!” Celeste yelled, eyes pulled tight. “I have your children!”

The armour stopped, turning its massive head to face its sister. “Good. Take good care of them for me.”

“W-what?” Celeste asked, voice wavering. “You care not?”

“No. I don’t want them further involved in our little games. I’m sure you’ll take good care of them. In fact,” the armour mused, head tilting to one side like a curious statue, “quite the only thing I trust you to do.”

“I…” Celeste muttered.

“I’ve always found your… turn to be rather peculiar, my sister. You truly have the heart of an angel. Too bad you had to dig it out of a chest of a saint in order to get it.”

“We’ve spoken about this!” Celeste hissed, anger on her breath. “It is what we had to do! Don’t speak as if your hooves are clean!”

“I never do. The difference is, the whole world knows about my deeds. When shall they know about yours?”

Celeste tightened the muscles in her legs. “When the time is right!”

The armour started turning once more. Conversation, it seemed, was over. But as a parting gift, the outlaw Lune gave a final statement to muse upon. “It is too bad that my time came so early, then.”

Celeste quickly gave her reply.

A spark jumped off the neck of the great armour, as a shrieking ping echoed into the night.

Like a goddess, Mayor Celeste stood there, eyes ablaze with fury and determination, mane alight with streaks of blues and whites, floating in an invisible wind. Her horn exploded with a flurry of magic, eight pistols encircling her, rotating slowly, a halo of metal and death.

A wisp of smoke left the barrel of one of those eight pistols, as it rotated out of the way. It was quickly followed up by seven more rounds each, as a pistol took its turn, firing with pinpoint accuracy at the same target.

Each time, a loud blast was followed by a metallic ping that echoed off into the air, until it had run its course. Eight complete shots was overkill for any regular pony. But it was merely a gentle invitation for Lune.

There was barely a scratch upon the armour, let alone a dent.

All eight guns flipped open, empty shells pulling out and scattering across the sand like acorns falling from a tree. The guns were quickly reloaded, all of them flipping close with a single unified click.

“Is this your hand?” the armour asked, turning back to face Celeste once more.

Celeste ran a tongue over her teeth, squaring her jaw. “If you will not give them to me, then I will take them!”

“Ah, but,” wheezed the armour. “Can you find them without me?”

Celeste squeezed her triggers again, faster and faster as they went along, until all that could be heard was a constant stream of firecrackers accompanied by the sound of rivets clinking in a metal bucket.

Metal clashed against metal. Sparks flew. Bullets ricocheted everywhere, piercing anything that got in the way.

Celeste stepped backward as the barrage continued, until all forty-eight shots had been fired, smoke rising in a circle around her head like a great cloud.

Lune had not even flinched.

She stepped forward, gears clunking, ground sinking. Not even the bar of the railway track stopped her, her heavy gauntlet crushing wood and metal beam alike.

By then, Celeste’s guns had already been reloaded.

“Sister,” the armour said, “you mean to kill me?”

Two beacons, standing in the dust, clouds and steam swirling and folding over each other, bright white light fighting to escape, stood and stared each other down.

“Perhaps you will be more willing to negotiate when your life's on the table!” Celeste narrowed her eyes, staring down the brim of her hat.

“Ah, so. Your activities make sense now. All these theatrics. And for what? Could you have not simply found me in the desert and… persuaded me there?”

“What, and be the bad guy?”

The guns pulled back, each pistol falling in line alongside Celeste’s back, four on each side, flanking them and pointing outward and back in due order. They fluttered and flitted in the raw strength of her magic, sweeping as she swayed her body left and right.

“Ah, we always end up here,” Celeste laughed, with scorn, “no matter which side you’re on.”

She fluttered her wings. Its metal feathers clinked as they bumped against each other.

Celeste smiled, lines of sadness and regret etched into her voice. “You know, we could have created a haven together. A place where everyone could be safe. Every race. Every creed. But you had ta let me go it alone. And even then, you couldn’t just let the past be past. You had to come back for revenge, didn’t ya? And even now. Even here. You still come, as predictable as ever. And all it took was the name of a gun whispered on the wind.”

“You talk too much,” Lune replied.

“Yeah, but you know what? I can afford ta.” Celeste said.

And there it was. Gleaming like the sun, Celeste called forth Harmony. From the depths of one final holster it flew, gracefully, through the sky, a large, trimmed, beautiful specimen, cracks spilling forth a wondrous energy.

“I have this! And you come wearing dinner trays!” Celeste shouted. “Come on, Raven. Tell me where you hid the plans!”

“I think not.”

And then it begun.

The armour changed. With speed previously hidden.

In a release of steam, the armour burst apart into metal panels, each attached securely on the end of dozens of prehensile metal arms. Each arm flew around like freakish limbs of a monster spider, creaking and groaning as they came together in front of Lune to form a wall.

Finally, Lune’s mask split down the center, each half pulling back to each side, a great white light spilling forth from within. On her back was strapped the core of the whole machine, gears whirring.

From out the edge of her greatshield Lune peered, her one good right eye staring yellow at Celeste with a strange calm. Her other eye was forced shut by a scar that cut across her deep blue skin, running diagonally down from brow to cheek.

Lune took one single step, crossing over the other rail of the train track. The panels that dug into the ground moved when she did, crushing everything underneath them as a knife might slice through porridge.

Celeste leapt back just in time.

From the edge of the shield, two panels pulled away, turning parallel to the ground. They flew straight like great cleaving knives, the very air itself kicking up from the speed at which they thrust themselves toward Celeste.

Celeste could feel the wind cut her face, an inch away from having her skull crushed into little more than powder. Her eyes widened, breath light.

“So, not just dinner trays, then,” she whispered, stumbling back, adrenaline injecting excitement into her tone.

No sooner had the panels hit their full length than they retracted, once again placing themselves back into the shield.

“You best keep your distance,” Lune said. “Wouldn’t wanna get hurt.”

Celeste grinned, her wings fluttering, Harmony trained straight. “Not me, at least.”

“Celeste,” Lune said. “You can shoot me till the cows come home. But ya know what? You only got so many rounds. And once that runs out, what’s gonna happen? You gonna ask again?”

“Well, maybe!” Celeste replied. “But I reckon I still oughta try!”

She levelled Harmony, her horn throbbing with white light. Tiny ball flashes popped and glittered as the gun shook in Celeste’s magical grasp; as its chambers and rounds filled with magic.

A sound shrieked. Like a tin flute whistling in reverse.

An amazing flash turned night to day for a brief instant, a globe of energy exploding out from the end of the pistol with a thunderous bang. It flicked back, nearly leaving Celeste’s impressive grasp, but the bullet that left the barrel was fired true.

It hit its target like a hose being turned upon a wall, as magic splashed everywhere. Streams and ribbons of magic burst outward from the impact, throwing themselves into the sky where they danced in a sordid waltz before fading away.

The noise was incredible, a thousand nails screeching against a thousand chalkboards. Dirt and dust kicked up everywhere, blowing backward from Lune, like a typhoon whipping around.

Celeste spent a moment looking down at the weapon she held in her grasp. But her eyes flicked back up to Lune, who stood there, a few inches back, but otherwise unmoved.

Dirt crumbled off the shield, which was now in a half-globe pattern, smooth, round — a giant eyeball staring and condemning her sister. There was now a dent on the front-most edge.

Lune flicked her eyes to the left, catching a glint out of the corner of her sight. With the sound of a shrill ping, one of the plates back swung back like a shovel to smack something out of the air behind her.

The pistol landed in the dirt under Lune’s legs.

“Hmph,” Celeste huffed, one of her feathers having been lain to rest. Only seven guns now lay on her back.

“Sneaky tactics,” Lune said. “As you are known for. How dishonorable to shoot someone in the back.”

The Mayor’s horn burst to life, eyes dropping to the pistol. “The only way to put you to reason, sister.”

“Please, continue to waste your resources.” Lune said, raising one of her thick, armored legs with a thunk. “It will only bring an end to this game sooner than I expect.”

Celeste nodded. “I agree.”

Lune stamped down onto the gun.

Only… it wasn’t one.

Lune’s eyes reduced to pinpricks as she saw Celeste standing there, as calm as a spring day.

“N—!” Lune screamed.

The hollow, gun-shaped shell exploded with a burst of white, ripping upwards, toppling the great metal beast onto its side. It tore through a few arms, ripping them at the joints, sending panels flying. The pressure sent shredded metal into Lune’s flesh, the light blinding her. Lune’s breathing was reduced to a bloody whimper.

Celeste stepped forward to the smoking heap. “Mmm. I agree.”

---

The second explosion rocked the landscape, like a sphere of white cloud rising into the sky. It reflected in Twilight’s eyes as she stared at it unblinking. A few moments later, a distant rumble finally reached her ears.

They had moved into position some time ago, and had been waiting under the silence of the night sky.

“That’s it. That’s the signal,” Twilight said, turning around. “You guys ready?”

“Yeah,” chorused her three companions. “You got it.”

“You know what to do?”

“Sit here and provide moral support and try not to get killed,” Spike answered.

“Right. Here we go.” Twilight steeled herself, and threw a lever.

---

Lune had no time to wipe the blood out of her eyes. Her heart was buzzing, as yet another barrel entered her view. Half of her mind now was dedicated just to prevent her from flying into a panic. The other half controlled the panels that would just barely deflect the bullet.

It grazed past her cheek. Lune shuddered, breath torn to shreds.

Her vision blurred, her body working on automatic. She forced her attention to focus on the important things, and not the dull, sweeping ache in her side. She coughed, a trickle of bloody spit hanging from the edge of her lip. The next bullet would be soon.

Floating around her randomly, like a sick game of chance, were all of Celeste’s pistols, as she fired them off one at a time, watching if Lune was going to be fast enough to deflect it that time.

Each time Lune cringed from the ricochetting of a lucky block, she felt her magic slipping away. She felt her Gear moving just that much slower. She felt the remaining half of Nightmare creaking unnaturally, fighting against her desperation to keep it moving.

Celeste circled Lune, as a wolf stalks its prey, walking slowly but with methodological intent. She kept the guns firing when they could, her eyes flicking left and right across her focused expression.

“You know what your problem’s always been?” Celeste yelled through the clamour, firing two more times as she talked. “You never moved on to chess from naughts and crosses! You ain’t never think more than one step ahead! That’s why I’m where I am and you’re where you are!”

Lune couldn’t answer. Her armor was in the shape of a hole-punched dome, covering her body, panels shifting left and right, up and down, filling in the gaps where they were needed. It was all she could do. The bomb had all but sheared the gears off the leg that crushed it, and was dead weight now. Celeste’s barrage was tempoed specifically to only just prevent Lune from being able to move away.

It seemed that Lune fell precisely where she needed to.

In the distance, a pinprick of light started up as an engine roared once more, chugging forward. It lay in wait in the darkness, and now, purring with life, it pushed forward.

“Oh, and here’s step four!” Celeste shouted. “You ready ta bargain yet?”

Lune grit her teeth, barely registering the words as the rounds hailed down. She tilted her eyes sidewards for a fraction of a second, noting the spotlight that was growing and growing in size.

“So, this is your last chance, sister!” Celeste continued. “You have about a minute until that there train gets here. And I reckon that you can’t defend yourself against everythin’ at once, now, can ya?”

The mayor levelled Harmony at the fallen figure of Lune, who moved in and out of sight from behind her dome. She was beaten. Defeated. Pathetic. She would be ready to talk. Celeste could feel it in her bones.

The tracks, broken as they were, started to rumble beneath Lune’s hooves from the distance of the train. She grunted, pulling her leg forward.

“Talk with me and I call it off!” Celeste screamed, Harmony charging up once more with that familiar glow. The other eight pistols returned to Celeste’s back as she focused on handling the magic cannon.

Thirty seconds had already flown by. The train was close enough now that its shape was apparent and clear.

“Sister, you are running out of time!” Celeste yelled. “Say you’ll talk!”

Lune spared herself precious moments, moments in which something could go terribly wrong, to look up, locking eyes with Celeste.

And then it was Lune’s turn to smile.

Celeste felt frost gather down her spine. A smile was a dangerous thing. There were only two times a pony would smile in a situation like this — when they’re about to die, or when they knew exactly what to do.

And Celeste knew that her sister would never smile for the former.

The blood drained from Celeste’s face as Lune called up the remainder of her panels and pushed them together once more. But the shield wasn’t facing Celeste.

It was facing the train.

And it was only a few seconds away.

“No! Wait!” Celeste cried, swinging Harmony suddenly, aiming it now for the cluster of arms that held the shield in place.

Harmony whined with white.

But so too did the panels, as they suddenly poured forth a brilliant glow out of each and every rivet and crack as Lune filled them with Gear.

The train, engine set ablaze with white fire, reached the end of the line.

And over in Cantermore, everyone saw the thunder.

---

There is an expression that speaks of fire raining from the skies, in reference to a horrible, awful event that causes death and devastation. But when burning, razor sharp scraps of metal and detritus come falling down from above due to the utter and complete obliteration of a train, a little bit of fiery rain might be preferable.

The sound of the train splintering echoed throughout the town and canyons to the point that it took minutes for it to finally dissipate, a screeching, crunching, twisting cacophony of two metallic beasts clashing in an incredible struggle for dominance.

It was hard to say which animal won that night.

From the mangled wreckage of a wasted, demolished suit of armour a hoof appeared, pulling itself from under what used to be a shield plate. The figure straggled to her hooves, coughing out a combination of soot and ichor, swaying as the world started to come back into view.

She took a breath, ragged, raspy. Painful. There was blood in her lungs. She looked to the night sky.

It was peaceful. Quiet.

Reaching up with her horn, she pulled off the remains of Nightmare off her back, throwing it aside. Its legs stuck up like branches on a dead fir tree, grasping for nothing and receiving nothing in return.

The dread outlaw Raven Lune straightened her back, free from the weight.

She shuddered, shaking off embers, and limped.

She limped, scanning the floor. Limped, eyes darting around the devastation, hooves crunching in the dirt as the crackle of fire and popping wood punctuated the scene.

Limped to a figure that lied to one side, unmoving. White coat. Blue hair. The body of Mayor Celeste lay in a heap of twisted limbs and blood.

Lune stared.

Celeste’s ear twitched. Ever so slightly.

Lune breathed out and flicked her head away.

“Stop.” A voice came from behind her.

A weak one. A wavering one. But one with enough force in the intent that even Lune had to obey, if only merely out of sheer curiosity.

“You’re a mite hard t’ kill, ya know that?” Twilight growled. Her vest was scuffed, and her hat had fallen off at the point where she had jumped from a speeding train. She stood firm on four hooves, holding her twin pistols straight at Lune’s unprotected head.

Behind Twilight came three other shadows, shrouded by shadow and the glow of the train’s fallen engine, still full to the brim with Gear. One rushed to the fallen body of Celeste, immediately busying herself with checking on the body.

Lune tilted her head upward, staring past her nose at the four who faced her. She made no motion to stop the one aiding her sister.

The dust called, whipping up a sand cloud that blew through the scene.

Lune stepped forward, the light of the engine finally enough at that point to give Twilight a good look at the enemy.

She was as her sister was: a pony of slightly larger stature. That scar over her eye gave her a sense of intimidation. Her front left leg was a dull, rusty metal from the knee down: a piece that looked like someone had hammered gigantic fish scales onto a mannequin limb. Her black mane covered her face, and her tail swept across her dark blue coat, upon which was stamped a bright yellow quarter moon as mark of her kin.

“Sun and moon,” Twilight said. “You really are sisters, huh.”

“Hmm?” Lune muttered, voice scratchy and shredded, but as calm as an afternoon walk all the same. “Ah, yes. With her. We are sisters. And who are you?”

“My name is Sheriff Constance Sheridan Twilight,” the pony said, “and you are under arrest.”

“Ahh.” There was an odd tone in Lune’s voice, one that betrayed curiosity and recognition. “The one who fights for my sister?”

“I fight for whatever the heck needs fightin’ for,” Twilight spat. “And right now, that means stoppin’ ya, before you go and destroy Cantermore.”

Lune let the dust sweep her mane out of her eyes.

Twilight grit her teeth.

There was something about Lune’s eyes. Or at least, her one good one. It was not something it had, but rather something it lacked that made Twilight suddenly feel a chill run down her spine.

It bore no malice.

The only fire it had was the reflection of the engine as it burned slowly in the night. And Twilight couldn’t shake off the feeling that she had seen those eyes before.

“Destroy?” Lune asked. “Is that what you were told?”

“Ain’t somethin’ that need tellin’,” Twilight responded. “Now, will you come quietly?”

“Hold, a moment,” Lune said, as casual as making chat over a log fire. She tilted her bloodied head upward, casting her eyes behind Twilight. “And who are you, there?”

“Ain’t none of your business!” Twilight yelled.

“Isn’t it?” Lune said. “With the whole town empty, and the only ones standing behind the pony pointing a pair of guns at my head? I dare say it’s my business fully.”

“I said, that ain’t yer concern. Now, enough of this. Do you surrender?”

Lune took a step forward without reservation.

“I will shoot you!” Twilight growled. “Take one more step and test me!”

“Mmm, okay,” Lune said, taking one more step.

This was only the second time in her life where Twilight suffered a fraction of hesitation to pull the trigger. Her pistol was shaking in her magical grasp, however, that was a first. She was sharp enough to know that something was wrong. But Twilight always kept her promises.

The shot rang out.

And with a flash of white, the round deposited itself neatly onto the ground.

“What the…” Twilight said, eyes darting between the barrel of her gun and Lune’s face.

She fired again, with no hesitation. Two shots, this time. Two flashes.

And again, two bullets spun oddly and thudded to the ground like discarded bolts.

Twilight felt her heart beat, loudly in her chest. But like a bee trying to break out of her ribcage, it started to sting.

Lune flicked her neck. With a sudden flash of her horn, she grabbed the two pistols straight out of Twilight’s grasp. Spinning them expertly, she emptied the cylinders onto the ground before throwing the pistols over her shoulder where they disappeared into the darkness.

Twilight’s eyes followed the entire action, her legs rooted to the ground, mouth hanging open. She took no movement to stop Lune. She didn’t even know if she could. A small place in the back of her head started to itch. It begged her to take a step back. Even one would do.

She could feel the muscles in her legs tense up.

Lune smiled a gentle, kind smile, leaning closer to Twilight’s ear. “You look curious. Are you curious? Do you want to know how I did that?” she whispered.

Twilight could feel her bloodied breath on her skin. She moved not a single inch, afraid even to change her expression in case it might set off a bomb. The nagging sharp pain in her chest grew louder.

“I could teach you, you know,” Lune offered, pulling back, lowering her head and giving Twilight a look through narrowed eyes. “Gear is a lot more flexible than you think. But I don’t suppose my sister told you anything about that, did she?”

If there was any reply Twilight could give, she didn’t. It was enough that she forced her face to remain stoic. But she couldn’t help but flick her quavering eyes up at Lune’s at the mention of Gear.

Almost as if Lune understood, she replied. “Oh yes. I know. Gear magic has a smell, don’t you know? I can smell it in the engine of that train. And I can smell it all about you.”

The outlaw looked over her shoulder to the destroyed train. “Mmm, and you use it… adequately. But, alas, not enough.”

She turned. Deliberately slow, back facing the gang.

“I best be going now,” she told them.

With a loud bang that even made Twilight’s heart jump, a shot rang out harshly. But the sound lifted her heart a fraction. The sound was the sound of hope.

However, even from behind, the round hit something unseen that burst into white and flew off, throwing itself into the sand.

Lune peered back, unperturbed, though a little weary of the games.

Twilight’s heart plummeted.

A wisp of smoke left the barrel of a smaller, more compact pistol, one made for Dragon hands. Spike breathed out, face deadly serious, lowering his arm.

Lune blinked. “First of all, let’s stop that. Okay? Secondly, even if I hadn’t deflected it, you would have missed. Is this the first time you’ve ever fired a gun?”

Lune took steps towards the Dragon, who started to shrink smaller and smaller into himself.

And something kicked Twilight in the soul. Hard.

“Hey!” Twilight yelled, suddenly, anger pulsating through her quaking voice. “Stop!”

Lune turned her head.

“K-kill me,” Twilight said, her voice cracking. “L-leave them. I’m the sheriff. They’re innocent.”

The outlaw raised her eyebrow. “Kill you?”

“Do it!” Twilight yelled.

Lune chest heaved with a small burst of amusement. “For what? There would be no point in me for doing so. Far less of a point to remove one more Gearhead from these lands.”

“Y-you’re gonna have to kill me if you wanna get to Cantermore!” Twilight shuddered.

“Cantermore?” Lune raised her eyebrows. “I don’t want to go to Cantermore.”

The tumultuous feelings that wracked Twilight’s chest changed. Not by much, but still, a new feeling started to show itself amongst the fear.

It was confusion.

“W-what?” Twilight tripped on her own tongue.

“I have no interest in my sister’s town. And I would very much like to leave without having to hurt you or your friends. So. May I be on my way?” Lune tilted her head as if to ask for permission, but started walking anyway, once more turning around.

“What do you mean you don’t want to go to Cantermore?” Twilight felt her horn tighten from how hard she was scrunching her forehead.

“Goodbye.” Lune kept walking. “Please quit with the shooting. It’s annoying.”

“Hey!” Twilight yelled after her. “Why ain’t you goin’ to Cantermore?”

It was hard to discern why Lune decided to stop then and there, but she did. “Why should I go there?” she asked back.

“Ain’t you going after the gold again?”

“Hah!” Lune burst out once more with a fit of laughter. “And what would I do with gold?”

Her voice, her response, travelled over the darkened sands, over scraps of metal and small pockets of fire.

Twilight didn’t have an answer.

Lune continued. “Where would I spend it? I’m to be shot on sight in any town in Equestria, you recall?”

“You… could take it to the coast!” Twilight shouted.

“They don’t care about gold there! And who in Equestria would change all my gold for pearls first?”

“Then why are you here?” Twilight asked.

Lune stopped replying. She stood motionless for a while, back still facing Twilight, and when she spoke, her tone had taken a far more serious note, the playfulness sucked out. “Listen, sheriff. Let me give you a bit of advice.”

She turned her head slightly, staring at Twilight with her good eye. “If you wanna stay alive, you best be careful of the kinds of questions you ask. Some kinds of answers can’t be returned, you hear?”

“Why are you here?” Twilight yelled again.

Lune turned away.

Twilight took in a deep breath. “Tell—”

“Enough!” Lune yelled back, cutting Twilight off once and for all. Sweeping away, she stepped with even more haste now, moving as fast as her battered legs would take her.

Twilight was still. She had no course of action. All she could do was heave a big sigh, dropping her shoulders and letting her tail hang loose by her rear legs. All she could do is let Lune keep walking.

“T-Twilight?” Dash stuttered, as she and Spike rushed up to her side.

“Hey, Twilight! What are you doin’?” Spike said.

Twilight shook her head, blinking. “What do you mean, what am I doin’? We’re done here, ain’t we?”

“What do you mean ‘we’re done’?” Spike cried out. “We gotta stop her!”

“Stop her?” Twilight exclaimed. “How? Did you not see what just happened? We don’t even know if the Mayor’s—”

Twilight shook her head, turning to Angel. “Hey!”

Angel looked up. She was in the middle of applying some sort of salve to Celeste’s face. She had bandaged Celeste’s legs as well, tying them to long pieces of wood.

“Is she okay?” Twilight shouted.

“She’ll be alright! A bit of superficial damage, and a couple of broken bones, it seems, but otherwise, she’ll be okay!” Angel yelled back. “But she’s out cold! I don’t really think we should force her awake either, so I’m letting her sleep!”

Twilight held a hoof to her face as her forehead pulsed.

“Twilight, she’s getting away!” Dash exclaimed. She pointed. Lune was walking with a gait, slow but steadily, into the distance. Sauntering home.

“And what can we do about it?” Twilight yelled back.

“Twi!” Dash yelled, stepping around to her front. “Constance! Listen! Are you just gonna let that go? She’s avoidin’ somethin’, and you know it!”

Twilight responded with a sudden outburst, something snapping in her brain. “Of course I know it! But what can I do? We ran a train into her! We had Mayor Celeste with a weapon made just for stoppin’ her, and I shot her three times in the head, Dash! She walks! She’s a monster! It’s impossible!”

“Twilight,” Dash said, concern in her voice. “You’ll… you’ll think of something. You always have, so far. You know what else I thought was impossible?”

“What?” Twilight said.

“Me.”

Twilight’s body suddenly felt limp.

“You did something about me, Twilight. And Angel. And Spike. And who knows how many others in this town who owe a lot to you. You’ve done… plenty of impossible things, Twilight. All we’re asking for is you to just try to do one more.”

Twilight's eyes defocused as she stared into the dirt. Her movements, motions, and even her breathing eventually stopped as she let the words sink in.

“Twi?” Dash asked.

“You’re right,” Twilight said.

“I am?”

“Yeah. You’re right.” Twilight frowned. “Thanks, Moonshine.”

“Yeah, sure… uh… no problem,” Dash said.

“You didn’t think it would work, did you?” Twilight grumbled, noting Dash’s manner.

“Not… not really, no.”

“But you’re right. I gotta do something. She ain’t leaving on that note.” A growl escaped Twilight's lips, like a beast finally uncaged.

“Yeah, that’s the spirit!” Dash said.

“We got an unfinished conversation,” Twilight said. “And there was somethin’ mighty weird about the way it was headin’. I got this far followin' my gut. I'm gonna follow it a little more. I need to get her attention.”

“Want me to go get your guns?” Dash asked. “I think I saw where one landed.”

“No. That ain’t gonna do squat but annoy her.” Twilight said. “We need something else…”

Then, Twilight felt a poke in her hind leg. She turned to face her little Dragon assistant, nudging her from behind. In his clawed grasp was a very familiar item that had been the very start of it all. It shone and glittered in the glow of the engine fire.

“Hey, I uh, while you guys were talking I went poking around and found this.” Spike handed over Harmony. “Maybe this’ll work.”

Rather than the sound of whistling in reverse, the gun made the sound of three kazoos being blown hard enough to break them. The bullet shot out of the barrel with a strange spiral to it, and it whizzed and burned and crackled down the desert sands until it reached Lune.

Lune turned half-way, staring back, as the bullet pierced through a strange white wall and hit her in the side and exploded in a small puff of white powder, a few dozen strands of white string flying out like party streamers. It knocked her back slightly, her ribs caving in but not cracking.

“Ow,” Lune said. It felt like a bison had accidentally run into her with a blunt horn.

She straightened up, cracking her back, staring back across the plains with a frown.

She saw the sheriff as she scrambled to pick up the cannon again after the first shot had caused it to fly out of her grip. She saw the blue pony next to her fumble with the ammo bag. She saw a little Dragon point at her, informing his friends that yes the first shot had actually hit her and yes Lune was probably ticked off.

Lune wasn’t ticked off, though. The frown was not one born from annoyance, but rather from perplexity. She turned around and walked back towards the firing gun.

This time, the bullet was easy to dodge. Twilight’s grip was barely able to keep the gun level. It was a miracle that the first bullet hit at all. She heard a cactus behind her explode.

She didn’t let Twilight reload it a third time.

With a final, speedy dash, she threw herself forward and skidded, ramming her metal leg into Twilight’s chest. The sheriff went sprawling, and Lune caught Harmony easily. She threw it into Spike’s face, and kicked with her rear leg, sending Dash flying.

In just three seconds, the entirety of the firing squad was down.

“Foals shouldn’t play with toys,” Lune said, buckling down. “But I am impressed.”

“Yeah?” Twilight said, scrabbling to her hooves. She coughed, hammering her chest to get out the dirt. “‘Bout what?”

“The fact that you can fire the gun.”

“Yeah, that’s what she said too,” Twilight said, flicking her tail toward the collapsed form of Celeste. “Too weak or something. Butcha know what? I figured to give it a shot anyway, no matter what Mayor Celeste think."

“And that you knew what to do without instruction?”

“That was her,” Twilight nodded her head at Dash, who decided to stay seated on the ground for a while longer, moaning. “She built it. She should know how to fire the damn thing.”

Spike also found his way back after the world had stopped spinning. He massaged his jaw, but decided not to speak.

Lune looked to the three one by one, deep in thought.

"Not gonna lie," Twilight said. "Weren't too easy. And that was a piss-poor job. But hey. Got what I wanted in the end. And that counts."

“I see why Celeste has such trust in you,” Lune stated. “You are stronger than you look. You should ask her to teach you a few tricks. But you also should know when to stop.”

There was deadly intent in the last part of her statement.

“Wait,” Twilight said, with confidence and purpose. “Maybe I do wanna stop.”

Lune quirked an eyebrow at the sheriff. “What, no more ‘arrest the dread outlaw Lune’?”

“Haven’t decided yet.” Twilight said.

Lune flicked her ear. "What is your game?"

“No game.” Twilight tapped herself in the chest. “I’m just a pony waiting for my reply.”

Lune regarded Twilight, sizing her up. Their eyes met as it did before, but this time, Lune stared deep, like she was trying to pry something out from her soul.

Lune nodded, after a moment's thought. “Then answer me one thing first.”

"And what would that be?" Twilight asked.

“Earlier.” Lune waved a hoof. “I said you fought for my sister. Remind me of how you replied."

Twilight repeated her words without a single second's thought. "I said I fight for whatever's worth fightin' for."

The night wind howled, kicking up the fires.

Lune tilted her head to one side. "And do you believe that?"

"What do you think?" Twilight replied.

Lune straightened her neck, pulling back her shoulders. She gave Twilight's expression one last study. It was as firm and steady a boulder.

"Very well," she said at last. "You may ask your questions."

"Good," Twilight nodded. "Let's pick up where we left off. You said you ain't meanin' to march on Cantermore?"

"Yes. There is very little reason for me to do so.” Lune shrugged. “I’ve already told you.”

“Then why are you here?”

Lune snorted lightly as the edge of her mouth turned up.

“Why, same reason you are.” Lune answered, her eyes travelling to the crumpled mess that was her sister. “I was cordially invited by her. She sent her people, asking me to come. Said it was important. I had though, perhaps foolishly, that it would be true this time. She found me, so I was going to have to leave my home anyway. I thought I might as well drop by on the way out.”

Twilight felt her tail twitch. “That's the thing I'm havin' a hard time swallowin'. It was me who gave Celeste warnin’ about you, not the other way around. So you couldn’t ’ve done it.”

“Oh, really? And how did that happen?”

“I was the one lookin’ out over Full Moon Bluff couple weeks back. I was the one saw you workin’ on somethin’, and I was the one who alerted the Mayor.”

“Ah, yes. Full Moon Bluff.” Lune chuckled. “I haven’t been there in a little over five years.”

“What?”

“I have been a wanted criminal far longer than when my sister exiled me, you realise. She told everyone I was cast out to Full Moon Bluff, but did you think I would just go there? Where fortune finders and bounty hunters could come kill me in my sleep?” Lune rolled her eyes. “I have camp in a cave somewhere along the mountain ridge.”

“Then… what did I see?”

“What did you see?”

“Lights,” Twilight replied.

“Then that is what you saw.” Lune turned a hoof out upward. “Lights.”

Twilight rubbed her face with her leg. A vexing feeling started creeping into the back of her mind.. “You can’t be suggesting…”

“I’m not suggesting anything, child. I only know what you tell me. If you saw lights, then that is what you saw. But were those lights myself or just part of a two-year-old story?”

“But it weren’t just a story, were it?” Twilight shot at Lune. “You did come burrowin’ under Cantermore. You did make for the great vaults.”

“Yes,” Lune tilted her head to the side. Her eyes travelled back to the past. “But it wasn’t gold I was stealing.”

Twilight blinked a few times. “If not the gold then… what?”

Lune didn’t reply. She just showed them.

Her leg hissed suddenly, as a stream of white steam escaped a small vent by its side, hidden under the latticework of scales.

A compartment slid out of the metal leg, so perfectly machined that it was invisible otherwise. Within it were two pieces of parchment, yellow and frail.

“Hey, you. Blacksmith,” Lune called to the side. “Please, join us.”

Dash looked to Twilight, who gave her a nod, signalling that it was probably safe. With one final moan, Dash pushed herself up and staggered over.

“What are these?” Twilight asked, as Lune floated the papers toward the group.

“Ask your friend,” Lune said, flicking her head at Dash. “She’ll find them familiar, I bet.”

Straining to see in the dark, Dash ran her eyes ran down the two parchements. A drop of sweat rolled off the side of her cheek and hit the floor.

“I… don’t understand,” Dash muttered.

“Yes. You do,” Lune said.

Dash looked at the designs again. There, drawn upon them, were two very familiar sights. One — a gun, for use by a Gearhead; the very gun she had pieced together over the last two weeks. The other — a suit of armour with flexible panels, for protection.

Above the gun was written, in fine cursive, its name — Nightmare.

And her sister, the armour — Harmony.

“But… the names…”

Lune rolled the papers up, pushing them back into her leg. “Does this not make sense? A weapon that can destroy anything in its way in the blink of an eye, and a shield, to protect not only its user, but everyone around. Are their names not true?”

“But I don’t… why would she need to switch the names?” Dash said, weakly.

“The one true thing about my sister,” Lune said. “Is her loyalty. That… shall never be questioned. She loves her city. She loves her country. She loves her people.”

Twlight felt a heat burning her stomach.

“And she will do anything to protect this dream. Including this pony who everyone thinks she is.”

“No.” Twilight shook her head, her heart pounding. “I don’t buy this. I ain’t buyin’ any of this.”

“Of course. Why trust the words of a bandit?”

“Words. Trickery and words. You have a gilded tongue, Raven.” Twilight wagged her head. “You’ll not pull me over a barrel.”

“Of course. You have no reason to believe me. All I can do is tell you that this is what I stole that day. These, and many more. All of my design, you see. All which were taken from me first. I just wanted them back. I have created many machines. None of which are fit for use by my sister.”

“So where’s the rest of ‘em then?” Twilight asked.

“Safe. Somewhere else. I actually only have these two on my now because of…” Lune waved her hoof at the destruction. “All this. Had to prepare, after all. Had to build. Had to remind myself of what they could do.”

“But you were caught that day,” Twilight said. “Everyone remembers that. If you stole the plans, Celeste’d have them now.”

“True, but they were only searching me, weren’t they?” Lune laughed.

“What are ya talkin’ about?” Twilight asked. “You had help?”

“Yes. I stick out like a red rooster. But no one pays attention to a child.”

Dash gasped, pointing a hoof at Lune. “Yesterday! The child!”

“Ah, yes.” Lune waved Harmony around in the air like a finger. “He stole the TANK unit that I built for him. It was a toy, you see, never meant to travel such long distances. He remembered how important the plans were to me, precious dear. Thought I’d want to get Nightmare back. Of course, he saw my Sister’s… modified plans. The ones she used to commission some foolish, naive blacksmith to make under the guise of ‘harmony’.”

“Uhhh…” Dash muttered.

“So, is the child well? My sister tells me she has them all under her care, now.”

“How would she know where the children were?” Twilight asked.

“After two years of searching, I’d imagine. I didn’t make it easy, but she found me ” Lune tapped the barrel of Harmony against her temple. “My children helped me smuggle the plans out of the city. It was easy. I made sure there was adequate distraction.

“My sister let me go under the grand story of her kind and noble heart. She needed me alive to find the plans again. Perhaps she had hoped that I would store the plans with me in my camp, which was a foolish assumption, even for her.

“She must have spent the last two years searching for me and the plans. I was visited, you know. A few days ago. Her scouts came to send me a message, saying my sister wanted to meet. Here, in Ponyton.” Lune swung Harmony in front of her. “Told me that she had finally figured out how I got the plans out of the city way back when. Said she was coming for my children.”

Lune gave a curt smile. “Which was fine by me. They’ll have a much better life in Cantermore than in a hole in a mountain. And I know my sister enough to know that even she would not hurt a child.”

It was a lot to take in. It was a grand story from a notorious outlaw. Twilight chewed on Lune’s words for a while, like a big mouthful of buttergrass. But her story weren’t as sweet, and harder to swallow.

“I don’t get it, though,” Twilight said, “If you speak true. If you knew all this already, and you know what she was up to, why’d you play along to her plans?”

“Oh, child. We all play along to her plans. You just don’t know it yet.”

Twilight frowned. “I still can’t believe this.”

“I know.” Lune said, casually, unfettered. “The truth makes unreasonable demands.”

“You tellin’ me all this is all over a bunch of stupid plans?”

“Yes. The plans are powerful. Celeste needs to prepare herself, I’m sure. But let me assure you that… Celeste does this not out of power nor out of greed. She truly does care for her people. No matter the manner.”

“What?” Twilight felt her horn throb. “You’re defendin’ her now?”

“It’s complicated,” Lune said. “We’re sisters. Everyone has good and bad in them. It’s all about how we use it.”

Twilight stood there in thought, the wind picking up and sweeping her mane across her back. Her eye flicked to Angel as she thought about what Lune had said.

“So, what now?” Lune asked. “Will you still make to arrest me?”

The sheriff had to ponder on it for a moment.

“I don’t know,” Twilight admitted. “I don’t think so. By your own words you ain’t marching on Cantermore. And for the first half of the fight, I weren’t around to see who fired the first shot neither. All I did was run a train into you.”

She turned back, looking at Spike and Dash, who both, after a while, also nodded. Finally, she turned back to Angel.

“Hey! Doctor!” Twilight yelled. “Celeste gonna live?”

“Hmm?” Angel responded, looking up from her tending. “Oh, oh yes! She’s fine! In fact, she might be stirring any moment now!”

Twilight turned back to Lune. “No ponyslaughter then. Not yet, anyway. But I wanna know what happened when all this started. You two seem to have a history.”

“Well, we do. You know, all of this started long before two years ago.”

“How long?”

“Bit more than ten. Back before… we started fightin'.”

Lune smiled. Twirling Harmony around, stopping it handle-forward, and releasing it into Twilight’s chest.

“Back when she was still an outlaw.”

Twilight let Harmony fall to the dirt at her hooves.

Spike and Dash were equally silent. But they couldn’t help but sneak a look at the figure lying in the dust, whose leg twitched almost like she heard the accusation.

“Don’t be stupid.” Twilight said. “That’s one yarn you spun too far. I won’t believe Celeste will attack her people.”

“Oh, no. That’s completely true,” Lune said. “She won’t attack… her people.”

Twilight shook her head violently. “There’s nothin’ supporting your claim! Where’s your proof?”

Lune tapped herself in the chest. “I’m right here. I told you. She’ll do anything to protect her vision. And that’s not above… switching a few titles around.”

The outlaw Lune pointed her horn at Harmony, which lay unceremoniously in the dirt. “Take care of that gun for me, okay? I don’t need it. It’s more of my sister’s style.”

The mayor was groaning, now, eyelids fluttering.

Lune bowed her head, tilting her horn. “And with that, my time is up. I take my leave now.”

“You… no,” Twilight said, flustered, head turning between Celeste and Lune. “Wait. We still need to talk!”

“Sheriff,” Lune said. “Do you value the truth?”

Twilight let the question sink in. Lune was saying the unthinkable about the very pony that Twilight looked up to. But the pony that Twilight had become because of her… well. She would only answer one way. She closed her eyes, and let the answer float up from her heart.

“Yes,” she said, her eyes popping back open. “I do.”

“Then come find me,” Lune told Twilight.

“Find you? What? Where are you—”

“Find me!”

Celeste stirred. Twilight looked over her shoulder at the mayor.

“Wait! Please! Tell me one last thing!” Twilight begged, turning back. “Why did you tell me all this?”

“Well.” Lune winked.

“Because I reckon I can trust you.”

With another hiss, a second compartment opened on her metallic leg, and a small glass canister, metal-capped, popped out with a clink. At the very same time, Lune’s horn glowed abright, a haze of white surrounding her head.

The glass vial flew into the air above Twilight, and with a flash of magic, smashed open. Immediately, the area was filled with a thick green smoke, a foul smog that stank of rotten eggs and dead fish.

The smoke curled up Twilight’s nostrils. She coughed and choked and threw a leg up to cover her face, but it was thick enough to flow into every crack, and dense enough that the only thing Twilight could see was a wall of green. Behind the mist, she heard everyone else choking and coughing on the same stench.

Her mind reeled. The smoke attacked her senses, dulling them one by one, until they all started to fail. Teetering, she bumped into someone, and they both crashed to the ground. As her eyes began to blur, she looked up at the figure of Lune, who had across her face some sort of metal mask.

Lune turned and walked away.

The words echoed in Twilight’s mind: ‘Find me!’

As she crawled around in desperation, the broken halves of the metal vial came into view, sticking out of the sand. Her mind no longer thought clearly. With some primal instinct, she shoved the pieces into her vest pocket.

It would be the last thing she did.

The next two days were like those hazy mirages that dotted the edge of the desert; they were there, and then gone, and Twilight could never get a good view of things no matter how hard she tried to squint.

Somehow, she, Mayor Celeste, and all her companions had survived their encounter, and Twilight was almost certain it didn’t have anything to do with the stronger pony winning.

Everything felt sour, like the coffee she drank out of an old tin mug back at the sheriff’s station. And she was uncharacteristically quiet. Even Dash and Spike decided to give her space, while Angel travelled the sights and wonders of the big city, distracted by her own wandering mind.

The Mayor had announced a triumph. The news echoed throughout the city like a coin falling into a canyon. It rang sharp, clear, and everyone heard it.

Even the four new orphans who were recently taken up into the town.

And the entire city was busy celebrating the defeat of the dread outlaw Raven Lune who made her last stand at Ponyton. The trains would be fixed, and the Ponyton residents could slowly make their way back, with the blessings of Mayor Celeste, naturally.

And just like that, those two hazy days had passed.

Twilight found herself standing outside the Mayor’s office once more, staring blank-minded at the doors. She had been called there, along with her friends, to receive their official commendation for services to Cantermore.

There is a peculiar thing about loyalty.

Ponies like Twilight were always loyal to the ones she believed in. And they always put that loyalty above anything else.

But once that fails, then loyalty defaults. Loyalty returns back home.

Twilight, at that moment, made a decision.

---

“How’s the face?” Twilight asked. “And the legs?”

Celeste stood there with a splint tied to her leg to help with the mending. Her face, once covered with bandages, was now clean save faint traces of scars across the cheek, the kind that eventually fades.

“Better.” Celeste said. “Thank you. Would you care for some tea?”

A clamour of ‘yes’ came up from the three who weren’t Twilight, who simply shook her head.

Twilight, Spike, Moonshine and Angel stood in Mayor Celeste’s office, lined up neatly in a row, were served tea, and took a rare minute to rest.

Finally, when everyone had taken their first sips, Mayor Celeste placed her steaming cup on her desk and addressed the group.

“So, this is just formality, as you know. You already have the thanks of the town, and especially myself, for your actions and bravery takin’ in facing Lune. Somehow, we managed to stop her. At least for now. We will need to be ready for her return, eventually. She always comes back. But as long as we stand together, we’ll be able to beat her every time.”

The four of them nodded. Perhaps non-committedly. Twilight was, at least, very sure herself that she needed to proceed carefully from this point on.

“Hey mayor?” she said. “There’s… somethin’ I gotta ask ya.”

“You know you can ask anything. Please.”

“Why ain’t you never just kill her? Why didn’t she hang two years ago?”

And there were those eyes. Twilight suddenly remembered where she had seen those eyes before. They were exactly the same as Lune’s. They bore no malice, no fear, and no wavering from the truth.

Celeste stared off into the distance, wistfully, with those eyes. “She’s my sister.”

“You defend her for her crimes?”

“It’s complicated,” Celeste smiled. “We have a complicated history. But I still feel there’s some reason in her left. Maybe one day, we can talk once more.”

“So uh…” Twilight said. “What’s this complicated history all about?”

Mayor Celeste paused there. If she was troubled by the question, there was no indication of it on her face. “I suppose… you deserve to know.”

“Mayor. Before you begin. After you… uh… passed out on the day, Lune came to us,” Twilight said. She had to give something to get something back. And she needed to tell it straight. “She spoke with us. Didn’t fight. Didn’t come for trouble. She said a few things. Troublin’ things. That’s the truth.”

“Ah. I was worried she’d do that,” Celeste said, wringing her lips. “Go on. Tell me what she said.”

“She told us about the plans. How that was her real goal two years ago.” Twilight stopped there. There was no need to say more than was necessary, for now. “Told us about how it’s still about them now.”

Celeste sighed. It was a wistful, long, hissing sigh, as if she were forcing out a demon that resided in her chest.

“Alright. Yes. That is true,” Celeste said, voice soft and low.

“It were really a yarn?” Twilight raised an eyebrow.

“A… necessary one.” Celeste took another pause. “Twilight, do you know what it takes to run a city?”

“I would imagine a great many things.” Twilight cocked her head.

“Yes. And one of those things is, well, havin’ to be the bad guy.”

Twilight looked out of the corner of her eye toward her friends, who were all staring in rapt attention. “The bad guy?” she asked.

“Yeah. The bad guy. That’s who I am, Twilight.” Celeste dipped her head. “Not for what I say but for what I don’t. Sometimes, the truth is more dangerous than a lie.”

“I’m sorry, Mayor but—”

“No. No,” Celeste cut her off. “You’ve earned it. All four of you. But you must promise me one thing.”

“Nothing leaves this room, Mayor,” Twilight said. She looked to her left and right, making sure her friends nodded in agreement as well.

“Right. Good. So.” Celeste swivelled to stare out of the window. “It weren’t about gold two years ago.”

“It was about the plans.”

“Yes. The plans.”

Celeste let herself trail off as she watched the streets from her vantage point from behind her thick red curtains. Dozens of ponies milled around, going about their business, chatting, purchasing, living.

Twilight prompted her to continue. “What’s so important about these plans?”

Celeste frowned. “We gotta go a bit further back first, I reckon. So, let me tell you about… before Cantermore.”

Twilight listened.

“ Lune is my sister. One fact that I don’t rightly enjoy being spread around. Before Cantermore came up, we both rode together to far regions and distant worlds. I don’t enjoy spreading that around either, but of course we did.” Celeste shrugged. “We were sisters, and orphans, just like you. Thrown out of home and house for the same reasons as you. Because we were… different.”

“Gearheads,” Twilight grunted.

“Yes.” Celeste said. “We grew up angry at the world. But Lune… there were always somethin’ blacker in that heart of hers. Somethin’ genius in that mind, too. All the steamgear that she made, they were beyond the ken of normal ponies. Machines that could do whatever you thought. And one day… we had an agreement and a fallin’ right there on the same afternoon.

“We both would move to make a town. A huge town filled with all sorts of ponies. A place that was… free from the fear and hate that we Gearheads had. But that’s when we started t’ see things different.

“Lune… felt that it were time all this nonsense stopped. We had power, machines, strength. She said that we should make a bastion for Gear, a place where we wouldn’t have ta be scared. A place where people understood the power we had and would respect it. But I had a different way of seein’ things. I knew that one day, one day the fear and hate had ta stop, but it wouldn’t be because one of us started makin’ the world our enemy. No. Stuff like this… it takes time. It takes a city living in peace to see that we can live in peace.

“So we fought. And for the next ten years, I wouldn’t see her again. She went off to make her own life. I found a nice big area and with the help of only two traders and a blacksmith, founded the city that you now stand in today.

“And as I promised to myself, I kept things on the down low. This… hate of other people — for Gear, for Dragons, Ryu and Gryphon — it still exist. But we come a long way from ten years ago when they’d just shoot ya on sight for havin’ white magic. Now, at least, they talk to ya first before openin’ fire.”

Celeste shook her head. The look in her eyes was very far away.

“But Lune never helped with the image. With all the stories comin’ out about her deeds, and that whole thing two years ago… the fear got knocked up a couple notches. But one day. One day the world will be ready, and I’ll finally be able to tell my truth. The truth that the one who has protected everyone and has given life has always been a Gearhead. The truth that there are at least a hundred Gearheads now here in town that no one knows. Including my future head Sheriff.”

“Hundred?” Twilight’s mouth hung open for a while. “I… didn’t even know there were that many here.”

“That’s the point. And one day it’ll just be as it has always been, and people won’t have ta run around panicking.”

Celeste bowed her head with determination. “So I gotta be a bad guy now to be a good guy later. Unfortunately Lune… she just wants to be the bad guy.”

Twilight nodded. She had a feeling she knew where this was about to lead to. “So, the plans is just a big ball of power, is that it?”

“Suppose you could say that. It’s what helps me keep this place safe. It’s what makes us able to progress. Imagine if I hadn’t had the forethought to build Harmony and stow it away. What then?”

“Yeah… Harmony,” Twilight muttered. She didn’t necessarily want to talk about the elephant gun in the room, but curiosity got the better of her. “You know, Lune also mentioned something about that.”

“What about?”

“How it didn’t originally have that name.”

Twilight braced for the response. But it came, to her surprise, gentle and calm.

“Of course I changed it,” Celeste said, plain. “It is a device that I would use to keep the harmony in my town. To keep the peace. I traded its name for that foul beast of armour that Lune invented. It is a steamgear that can be used to storm any town, and crush everything underhoof. How appropriate to be called Nightmare instead, isn’t it?”

“Huh,” Twilight said.

“I will not have my dream crushed, Constance. I will not have this city of peace and equality destroyed. But I will need tools to keep it safe. We have many enemies. People whom Lune has turned against us through fear and manipulation. I fear their arrival.”

“Is a storm comin’?” Twilight asked with all due sincerity.

“Not anything we know for sure. But I would like to be prepared.”

The sheriff took it all in. Every single word, and every single piece of evidence. There were things that were said across the span of the last half hour that clashed, overturned, and conflicted with each other. There were holes and bridges and leaps of logic.

Her memory took her back to one of the first days on the squad, when she had to interrogate a pair of robbers who commited a single crime. Each robber had given a different version of events, and no matter how they tried, they couldn’t put it together with the evidence left behind. It was only after a day, and letting them go, did they realise that both of them had been lying a little differently just to make sure the real truth was never found.

The truth.

Twilight spoke up. “Mayor?”

People lied. But the truth was constant. And just like she had done with Lune, Twilight found herself not fit to judge until the truth was uncovered.

“Yes, Constance?” Celeste replied.

Twilight made a choice.

“I have a proposition for ya,” she said, reaching into her vest pocket and pulling out a small broken glass vial.

One Day Later

“You understand what you’re doin’, right?”

“Absolutely, Mayor,” Twilight said.

“And the rest of you,” Celeste turned to them. “You follow under your own free will?”

There were nods and agreements all around. Once more they found themselves back in Mayor Celeste’s office, albeit for a hugely different reason. Papers, charts, and books were strewn all around, and a large board was set up in the corner with all manners of charts and maps pinned to it.

“You sure about this?” Celeste asked.

Twilight puffed out her chest proudly.

“Spike has been an invaluable assistant. He is smart, keen, and has a head on his shoulders that has gotten me out of trouble more times that I’d care to admit.” Twilight turned to the pony standing beside him. “Moonshine Dash has grown tremendously over the past few weeks, growing to be a loyal, trustworthy and above all, brave individual. Her skill in blacksmithing will be extremely useful in the days ahead.”

All eyes fell on the final member.

“And…” Twilight paused. “Angel is a doctor.”

“Aww,” Angel sighed, giggling. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve said about me.”

Celeste nodded.

“And above all,” Twilight went on, staring straight ahead. “They’re good friends.”

Celeste smiled. “That was all you needed to have said.”

She turned, walking to the display board.

“However,” Celeste said. “This mission you want to embark on ain’t gonna be easy. I’m sure you know that. We don’t know what Lune is planning, and finding her ain’t gonna be easy.”

“I’m pretty certain I’ll find her. She let us go in the desert. Gotta be for a reason.”

“Be careful, Twilight. Do not fall for her silver tongue,” Celeste warned. “That goes for all the rest of you, too.”

The Mayor turned her attention to a map. “Now. Remember. Your goal is the plans. Lune herself is secondary. If you manage to find where she stashed the plans, you won’t need to even deal with her at all. Moonshine and I have taken a look at the vial she left behind, and the glass used in it has a certain special kinda shine.”

Dash chimed in, pointing to the broken gas vial on the table. “Yeah. It’s unmistakable. This was made in Crystal Cove.”

“So, it’s basically confirmed. She’s been there. There may be somethin’ there that’ll point ya in a direction.”

Twilight nodded. “Thank you, Mayor, for lettin’ me this opportunity.”

“No. Thank you.” Celeste said. “You’re doing Equestria a great favour.”

“I’m just doin’ what’s right.”

“And of course, Crystal Cove is nothin’ like Cantermore. They aren’t like us there. And they don’t fall under Equestrian law. So… if anythin’ goes south, there ain’t much I can do to help ya. And that.” Celeste pointed to Twilight’s badge. “Is meaningless.”

“But these still work.” Twilight patted her holsters. “I’ll be fine.”

“Then. I suppose there’s nothing more to say. I’ll have the usual care package prepared for you for your departure on the next train. And before then, I’d just like to say this.”

One by one, Celeste turned to the four standing in front of her.

“Constance Sheridan Twilight. Furious Spike Ling. Rosalita Dash. And Angelique Binnes. The four of you are already heroes in my heart, and all Equestria thanks you for your service. May the Dust never rise to claim you. I, Mayor Clearwater Celeste of the town of Cantermore, officially task you with the search and recovery of the plans of Lune, however you can.”

The four of them bowed, deeply, accepting this official ordeal.

“Oh, and one more thing, sheriff,” Celeste said, sliding a wooden box forward on her desk. “A gift. For you. And also an apology.”

Twilight stepped forward, eyebrows raised.

“I said you wouldn’t be able to fire it. And… I was wrong.”

“Is that what I think it is?” Spike asked.

Twilight popped open the box. On a small cloth pillow lay the gun Harmony, or Nightmare, depending on who you asked, clean and ready for use. Next to it was a velvet bag full of ammo, forged newly.

“Mayor…?” Twilight said.

“Twilight. I was wrong. Please take this gun with my blessin’, and as proof that you have my full and complete trust.”

“But… don’t you need this to protect the town?” Twilight asked.

“Lune’s not gonna be able to build another suit of armour in a while. Until then, normal guns’ll be good enough. No. Twilight, I think you’ve earned this. And if it helps ya with your task, then let it do what it will. Of course, I would still advise caution. Crystal Cove may be more accepting of Gearheads than us, but there’s still a lot of fear involved. Don’t go waving it around.”

“Well… thank you, Mayor.” Twilight felt a sting in her chest. Celeste’s words still felt real. Twilight almost wanted to admit that her actions had more than one goal. It felt wrong to accept it, but she pushed past the feeling, focusing on the truth to guide her.

There was something she had to do first, though.

“But…” Twilight said.

“But?”

“If this is to be my gun, I can’t choose between names that weren’t rightly agreed on in the past. Don’t feel right.”

“I understand. You wish to rename it?”

“Yeah.” Twilight said, picking it up, turning it slowly in her magical grasp as it gleamed silver in the lights of the office. Long, thick barrel, strange, bulbous chamber and intricate carvings along the handle, it spoke to her, whispering its true nature. “I remember someone told me a while ago a little bit about true strength. And how it’s about havin’ people worth dyin’ for.”

“I do remember that conversation,” Celeste chuckled. “What about it?”

“That’s the true magic, you said.”

“Indeed.”

“And that’s what this gun shall be named,” Twilight declared, slipping the gun into one of her holsters.

“Magic?” Celeste repeated, smiling. “A fine name.”

Twilight frowned as she noticed all her friends smiling as well. “What?”

“Really?” Spike said. “Magic?”

“Yeah,” Dash chimed in. “I’d figure you’d go for something like ‘Deathkiller Faceslayer’ or whatever.”

Twilight rolled her eyes. She was beginning to hate this new her.

“That is something I would call my 12-gauge syringe,” Angel added, “the one I use for eyeballs.”

“No.” Twilight said sternly, holding a hoof out at Angel’s face.

“Magic it is,” Celeste nodded. “And thus, we are concluded. Were there any last words?”

“Uh… yeah,” Spike said, holding up a finger. “Just one last thing. You know, while we’re on the subject of names.”

“Yes?” Celeste asked.

The little Dragon turned to the side, looking at Dash.

“Your real name’s Rosalita?”

---

Twilight and her gang left the town hall without badge and hat. She had surrendered it in the office, seeing how there was no longer any need to carry proof of ersatz authority.

She gave a sigh of relief. She didn’t rather know why, but the prospect of finally leaving town again was oddly comforting.

As soon as they were clear of the Mayor’s office, and back in the hot, blazing sun, Twilight slowed her pace, walking by her companions.

“Hey, thanks for trustin’ me,” Twilight said.

“No problem, Twi,” Spike replied. “I mean, we were there too, ya know. Something’s weird about this whole situation.”

“I hate to admit it,” Dash said. “But there’s a whole buncha stories goin’ on that just ain’t painted straight.”

“But the Mayor. She just… don’t seem like she’s lyin’. Neither did Lune. I don’t understand what’s going on.” Twilight wrinkled her brow. “Two stories. Both the same, but both different. And I don’t feel comfortable mistrustin’ the mayor like that.”

“Well, that’s why we’re chasin’ the truth, right? We’ll find out. Maybe when we find those plans. Maybe when we find her. Give her a chance to finish her story.” Spike suggested. “I mean, that’s why we’re goin’, right?”

“Dunno why she had to be so cryptic, though,” Dash said, shrugging. “Coulda just told us straight ‘hey I’mma be in Crystal Cove’.”

Angel stepped in. “I believe she was testing us, perhaps.”

“How’d you figure?” Dash replied.

“Well, you see, when you tell someone everything they need to do a job, you won’t be able to see how much they want to do it. Perhaps Lune is simply testing our resolve. After all, she did seem to be interested in us. You especially, my dear Twilight.”

“Well, whatever it is, Crystal Cove is our first step,” Twilight said. “And then after that, we’ll figure out where to go from there.”

“Oh, I know what to do!” Spike raised his hand. In his claws he held the half of the vial. “Real simple! See, makers of things usually are proud of what they do. Sometimes they write a thing on their stuff to show that they were the ones who made it, right?”

“Oh yes!” Angel burst out with a childlike glee. “I do that too with my patients! Sometimes I’ll write my name somewhere on them. Or in them!”

“What?” Twilight said, face turning slightly pale. She turned to stare at Angel. “Did… did you?”

Angel’s eyes flicked up to Twilight’s horn. “Nnnnno?”

Twilight glared daggers at Angel, who returned her her cutest smile.

“Oh boy,” Spike said. “Anyway! Look, I found a mark here on this vial! Check it out!”

The other three gathered around, looking down at the metal cap. Along the rim, extremely small, was a small engraving that could have been easily mistaken for a scratch.

“It’s an ‘N’, right?” Spike said.

“Good try,” Angel chimed in. “But you see the curly bits at the end? When it curls that way, it’s not an ‘N’. It’s a ‘Z’.”

Spike nodded, understanding. “Oh, right!”

“So. Z.” Dash said, rubbing her chin.

“You know what?” Twilight suddenly cut through the tone with a bit of frustration. “Okay. Enough of this. Spike!”

“Uh… yes?” The little Dragon answered, tugging on the edges of his vest.

“Listen. Enough of the dodgin’. I knew you were crafty but you’re way crafty. Okay? You are far from stupid. You might be the smartest one of us here, in fact!”

“Naw, Twilight,” Spike said, throwing his hand down in dismissal. “Nothin’ doin’. I’m just good at noticin’ stuff, is all.”

“Yeah, you are. Too good at it. But you know what, Dash here knows somethin’ about you that I don’t. So why don’t we finally make this official.”

“Oh, oops,” Dash said softly. “Sorry.”

Spike looked a little disappointed. But not in a way where he blamed Dash for her forthrightness, but rather that he couldn’t keep the game up just a little longer.

“Yeah, it’s okay,” Spike said. “I guess everyone’s stories is comin’ out today huh.”

“Who are you?” Twilight asked.

“Right. My name is Furious Spike of House Ling. As you know. And my family… well, my dad, at least, he’s the head of… well…”

“What?”

“I don’t think you guys have the word for it here. In Dragonese it’s…” Spike reeled off a few foreign words that sounded like a mix of sharp tonal sounds and hissing. “But I guess directly translated it means ‘the ones who look for things’?”

“Look for things?”

“Yeah! Like… I dunno. Finding stuff. Figuring out stuff. Detecting things.”

“Your father’s a person who detects stuff? A detector?”

“Yeah, let’s go with that,” Spike said. “The family’s helped out the emperor a couple times. Everyone in my family, really. We’re like police, but who just specialise in detecting stuff, and figuring out stuff. But we work for ourselves, you know? Not for like, the city or nothin’.”

“Huh,” Twilight muttered.

“Yeah. So uh… that’s it then!”

“So why are you here?”

“Aw, well.” Spike kicked at the dirt. “You know. Sometimes you get given a big old case, right? And then sometimes you kinda, you know. Make mistakes.”

“You made a mistake?”

“Yeaaaaah. Little… maybe big one? I don’t wanna get into details. It’s pretty long. And boring. And painful. Let’s just say I never managed to solve that case, and that marked bad for our family. And long story short, I left to save my family some honour.” Spike shrugged.

“But… how did you decide to come here and scam the city for free jail time? From that?” Twilight asked.

For the first time, Spike didn’t look too cheerful about the situation. He wrinkled his nose, his cheeky, ever-present smile disappearing.

“Guy without honour,” he said, “gots ta live without honour.”

“Listen, ladies and Dragons,” Angel said, cutting in, feeling the tone starting to weigh down a bit too much. “Let us not task ourselves, shall we? The New Science is very clear that rest is just as important as hard work. So shall we, perhaps, enjoy ourselves one last night before our great mission?”

“You know what, that sounds real good,” Dash agreed.

Twilight too, stepped back. “Yeah. Okay. Hey. We all got our stories, okay, Spike?”

“Sure,” Spike said, his smile returning.

“I found an alleyway yesterday with so many dead cats,” Angel said cheerfully.

“Uhhhhh, how about we go get something to eat instead?” Dash said quickly. “I know a place that does a real good strawberry cream and glazed beef!”

“That sounds a lot better,” Spike said.

“Okay!” Angel agreed. “Thinking about cats is making me hungry, anyway.”

Twilight didn’t join in.

Rather, she stood behind and watched as her friends cavorted and capered down the street, chuckling all the way.

She turned her head to the sky, as a breeze came flying down between the buildings, ruffling her mane. The wind brought the smell of salt and sand, and a fresh new adventure ahead. But this time, she wasn’t going to have to go it alone.

This time, she had three friends and a big gun.

She felt itchy. Uncomfortable. Irritated. Angry.

But perhaps… just perhaps…

A little bit happy.

“Hey, you comin’?” Yelled Dash, snapping Twilight out of her mind.

“Yeah!” Twilight said, rushing to catch up.

They had one night.

She was going to make it count.

---

Dust and Harmony

THE END

---

Epilogue

There was a cage.

Within was a pony of unremarkable features.

Unremarkable not because he was plain, but there was nothing much else to match his features to, and thus, anyone attempting to describe him was left without a single remark to give.

He stood, smiling wildly, at the window, murmuring to himself over and over, staring at the night.

“What’s wrong with him?” the guard asked, spurs jangling with a twitchy anxiety. “He ever shut up?”

“Not really, no.” The other guard replied. “He’s gone a little crazy, really. That’ll happen when half your brain gets burned up.”

“No shit. That happened?”

“Yeah. What, you new here or somethin’?”

“Actually, yeah. Just got transferred in from West Branch.”

“Oh. Well. Yeah. Have fun on your shift I guess. After a while you kinda just start ta ignore his rantings, anyway.”

“Yeah.”

“If he give you trouble, just smack him one. He’s bound for the noose, anyway.”

“Yeah, sure. But look at him. What kinda trouble could he give?”

“Murdered two. Caused a bunch of trouble down at Ponyton. Ran into Constant Constance, though. And she did this to him.”

“She did? No way.”

“Yeah. Always knew that girl had a mean streak.”

“I know, right? She’s… weird.”

“Well, anyway. Time ta get goin’. Chicken ain’t gonna eat itself.”

“Alright. Ya have a good night. See ya tomorrow.”

The conversation ended.

The night went on.

The prisoner muttered constantly, eyes transfixed on the stars above.

The guard, sitting tiredly at his desk, rocked back and forth, passing the hours.

He was finally at the point where the prisoner’s mutterings turned into background noise, and he almost didn’t notice the fact that it had actually stopped.

The guard looked up.

The prisoner was standing there, like a rag doll stitched together. Odd boot burned into his leg. DIscoloured flesh where the fires ate him. He watched from behind his bars, standing perfectly still, staring straight at the guard.

“Holy—” The guard shouted, nearly falling off his chair.

He caught himself, wobbled to his feet, and stepped forward towards the cage.

The prisoner did not move.

“What in the hell…?” The guard said to himself, pulling out a baton from his belt. “Hey!”

His cry rang through the otherwise empty jail.

“I said ‘hey’!” The guard repeated, stepping forward again.

“Hello,” the prisoner replied. “Do you like… the stars?”

The guard froze. There was an odd quality to the prisoner’s voice. It sounded like snakes crawling over gravel, and it rang with the cadence of an untuned piano.

“What?” The guard said. “Listen, pipe down in there, okay?”

“Do you… like the stars?” the prisoner repeated.

“Stars? What the hell about?”

“I hate them.”

The guard frowned.

“Today. Today the stars returned… to this town,” the prisoner continued.

“What are you talking about? Be quiet there, or I’ll come in and make you!” the guard threatened.

“I have heard it on… the wind!” the prisoner said, his voice taking on a far more frantic tone, as if a sliver of frenzy slipped in. “They… whisper her name!”

“I said shut up!”

“They call her return to our lands!” the prisoner shrieked, “She of the stars, the one with the spintered horn!”

“Okay, that’s it!” The guard said, fumbling with his keys.

With a clank, the door swung open, the guard taking a single step into the cell, his baton at the ready.

“Oh, you poor… idiot,” the prisoner said suddenly, his voice changing to a low, monotone, his head tilting to the side.

“W-what?”

That single moment was enough. With barely an effort, the prisoner swung the heavy jail door back again, which would have slammed shut had the guard’s head not been in the way.

And again.

And again.

As if the door simply refused to close due to something sticking, and further attempts might make it neatly clink into place.

With a sound like cornflakes being rolled over by a barrel, the guard’s skull slowly caved in, caught between iron bars like the filling of a sandwich. Jam and minced meat dripped down the bars as the prisoner kept the door shut, pulling it as tight as his magic would allow. A gurgle escaped the guard’s throat, like a puppy drowning in a bucket of mud.

The body of the guard skidded to the ground, where it landed in a flop, the baton clinking to the ground moments after.

Bagtail Brown dusted himself off as he breathed in fresh air for the first time in a week. He hated to debase himself as he did, acting like someone crazy. But sometimes, one had to do what one had to do.

After all, the whispers had carried her name to him.

The stars had returned.

And discord would follow.

TO BE CONTINUED

Author's Note:

---

~

Oh it's such a perfect day

I'm glad I spent it with you

Such a perfect day

You just keep me hanging on

You just keep me hanging on

~

---

Edited by Aragon and R5h

An immense thank you to these two individuals. I sincerely could not have done this without them.

And thanks to you, for reading.

Comments

[hypervelocity]

> sees 20k finale chapter

I KNOW WHAT I'M DOING TOMORROW!~

[KitsuneRisu]

9821078
Holy forking shirtballs you're fast

[hypervelocity]

9821082

I was actually just browsing before I went to bed and saw this update like right when I checked notifications. More like good timing.

[KitsuneRisu]

9821347

GOOD MORNING THO

[Alarak]

So satisfiying to get some closure on this story after so long. But will there be a sequel? Seems like you are overtly hinting at it.

[ForSpite]

Holy cow, more Dust and Harmony. I thought this was dead. Sometimes, it's good to be wrong.

[KitsuneRisu]

9822740
I was dead for a while.

But I'm a zombie now.

[KitsuneRisu]

9821497
Anything's possible

[KitsuneRisu]

9267280
Maybe a bit late, but... oof. That _whenever_ is now!

[Rune Soldier Dan]

I had the very good fortune to begin reading this story last week, and came to the final chapter mere days after it finished. It is a thing of excellence, and this is high praise from one who generally steers clear of "First two episodes BUT ______" fics.

What really puts this one on such a higher level is the raw uncertainty. It is not a retelling of the episodes with palate swaps or displacement; instead it tells how the story might have gone on a vastly different world. No Pinkie, no Applejack. Gritty and beautiful worldbuilding, with enough familiarity to make us nostalgic. Violent enough that we did not truly know how it would end, or who would live. And yet through it all, so strangely, Constance Twilight learns the value of friendship all the same.

I would... gently criticize the finale. After such intense buildup, we learn that Luna did not threaten the town in the first place, nor would she have killed her sister. Their extreme reluctance to deal the final blow was a neat twist, but Twilight's inability to triumph seemed to render her struggles unimportant. Had she stayed home, Luna or Celestia would have won, likely they would not have killed each other, and the towns would have remained safe. Luna imparts vague and menacing hints about Celestia (and I am so eternally grateful you avoided the 'Celestia is the real villain!' nonsense ), but Celestia is able to sensibly explain her own triumphs and sins. She provides our only real reason to see Luna as the villain (a quest to establish a Gearheads Uber Alles empire, which Luna herself never mentions), and then lets Twilight go off to do the very thing Luna invited. It all just seems so strangely anticlimactic, although the vague, hateful love between the sisters was a thing of beauty. One can really see them as people who trod the same path, just in different directions.

Still, this story riveted me, and I am happy you found the strength to finish it. Not merely a mirror, but a bullet-pocked doorway into a dusty world. The endless cowboy tropes amused (you had all of them but the rodeo clown ), yet the gritty edge brought to mind dark movie classics like Pale Rider and Unforgiven. Well done. Well done.

[KitsuneRisu]

9825520
Wow, I can't tell you how happy I was to read this when I woke up this morning. More than anything, I'm glad the journey has been worth it. Thank you so much for reading, and thank you for your kind, thought-filled comment. I appreciate the time you took to write that out.

That said, I would have to agree with you entirely about the finale. I definitely lost the plot since I dropped it all those years ago, and I had to pick it up by its scraps when I decided to resume it. No excuses here, of course, but it wasn't too easy to just continue where I left off, especially when I examined the story going ahead (I had always intended this story to be a trilogy when I started it) and I realised that this point in the story was less of an ending and more of a continuation. In the end, I made the decision to push the story forward, and let Twilight feel smaller in a world that was greatly expanding in her perspective. I decided to make her personal 'victory' in this chapter one where she gains friends, gains magic, learns more about herself and the world as she knew it, and decide to pursue 'the truth'. Unfortunately, as a consequence, 'the truth' definitely overshadows her arc, and I'm aware of that.

The next book will be continued with care, and I'll definitely not make the same mistakes I did when I started this crazy project all those years ago. I'm already writing the first chapter, so I hope you will look forward to it as well. It should be a lot more fun, and it definitely has 'an ending' this time. =)

(Oh, and the rodeo clowns are coming. Trust me.)

Thank you for reading, and please look out for a blog announcing the start of Book 2 of the Dust!

[ForSpite]

9824511
Fortunately, she's always making other folks bleed. Plus, you know having a live-in doctor would be helpful, as getting beat up seems to be part of her job.

[DannyJ]

Well, it's finally done, and so am I.

I re-read the entire thing in preparation for the finale, and I must say, I'd forgotten just how good of a story this is. Or maybe it's just easier to appreciate on a second read once it's all finished? I found myself really enjoying all the twists on familiar characters, and the development of the western setting. It's definitely one of the more intriguing AUs I've ever read. And after all the build-up, to have the confrontation with Raven Lune go the way it did was a bold choice, but so was a lot about this premise, so the open-ended conclusion/sequel hook actually fits it well. I look forward to seeing whatever you do with Discord in the next entry.

[Rune Soldier Dan]

And I forgot to note this earlier, but: the occasional references to animal leather and eating meat were fantastic. Jarring, but simple reminders that this is not the Equestria we know.

Anyway, liked, followed, and all the best wishes for writing the sequel.

[the frank]

Well well well.
I am indeed not dissapointed. If there was anything certain from the beginning, it was to don't expect anything to happen when, or why you think they will.
I have no idea how the plot was originally, but the tone you set in the beginning was kept way through to the end.

I won't lie to you, that ending... I was like when I listened for the first time on a song by my favourite artist. That song is 15.43 long. And ends on a fade-out.

I yelled right out "OH F*** YOU"

But now that I have cooled down... There is no other way this story could have ended. To much was going on for it to stop.

This was great. I am looking forward to the sequel. Welcome back where you belong.

[the frank]

9827527
Well, it is in the post-script where I felt they shared a similar reasoning. Especially this passage:

"I was born with other traits besides my romantic fancy. I have a definite sadistic delight in seeing or causing death. I remember experimenting with Wasps - with various garden pests... from an early age I knew very strongly the lust to kill.

But side by side with this went a contradictory trait - a strong sense of justice. It is abhorrent to me that an innocent person or creature should suffer or die by any act of mine. I have always felt strongly that right should prevail.

I think it may be understood - I think a psycologist would understand - that with my mental makeup being what it was, I adopted the law as a profession. The legal system satisfied nearly all my instincts."

I can say I have the pleasure to know the works of the author you based Twilight on, but I did enjoy it. It fit rather well with her canon traits.

However, I have seen a few potatoes in my day.
So, hardboiled? Made for frying? Mash?

[KitsuneRisu]

9827724
I see. I've never read the book, actually, and I did a quick google when you mentioned it, and could only find a Justice Wargrave, but nothing mentioned about him that reflects this. Quite interesting, though!

It's quite possible that characters like Dexter were inspired by this character which in turn inspired me!

Temperance Brennan is a very straight-lace sort who doesn't 'get' social stuff because she's too involved in her work. In fact, the name 'Constance' that I gave to Twilight is because both 'Temperance' and 'Constance' sound the same and reflect the individual personalities of the characters. Just a little easter egg. But the rest I all make up.

As for potatoes, Dash is definitely mushy and boiled in milk.

i.imgur.com/hpt5PQx.jpg

Here's a sketch of her being potatoy.

[the frank]

9827751
Ah. Well, I strongly recommend it. Mrs Christie at her best, if I may be so bold.

Can't say if she was the first, but she is highly influential so I don't rule it out.

Sounds Interesting. I will see if I can find a book.

A rough destiny for a potato. But indeed delicious for the eater.

[FanOfMostEverything]

Exquisitely done. You haven't just crafted a fascinating world, you also made a fantastic buddy cop miniseries in the process. And that final chapter, when everything got turned on its head...

Really, the way you've been playing with our expectations and what we think we know through the whole story, I shouldn't be surprised.

Fantastic work throughout. Thank you for it. I look forward to whatever other tales you tell in this world.

[KitsuneRisu]

9831669
And thank YOU for reading! The sequel is being slowly worked on. Please look out for it! More gunboops a-comin'.

[hypervelocity]

jibbers at the mention of sequel

Not to sound like a massive asskisser, but I am so beyond happy that this story got finished. It's always been in my Top 10 on this site and I'm so immensely satisfied and excited by this chapter and what will hopefully come. Like thank you so much dude.

[KitsuneRisu]

9839326

Not to sound like a massive asskisser

I don't have a problem with this

Nah, but joking aside, thanks so much for your comment, man! I'm really glad you liked it, even though it took so long to get here...
I'm planning out the next 'book' really carefully so as to avoid issues of stalling in the future. Gonna take a little break, and then get right into it eventually!

Twilight goes East!
Dash finds true love!
Spike eats a biscuit!

All this and more on the next exciting episode!

[Martian]

*Suspicious eyeball*

[KitsuneRisu]

9849977
Whoa.

Last I checked you hadn't logged in for like... a year.

[Martian]

9850320
Yeah I've basically been dead. Still feel mostly dead, but some things are just worth coming back for.

[KitsuneRisu]

9851469
Well, it's very nice to see you again, sir, if anything.

[Lunae Lumen]

Since you finally got around to finishing this, I've finally gotten around to reading it, and I'm stunned by how much I have fallen in love with Twilight as the hard-nosed, stubborn, grouchy lawpony. This is a thing of beauty and I am very sad that the ending is so cliffhanger-y.

[KitsuneRisu]

9863737
Thank you very much. This is a work with my heart on it in full so it means a lot more to me to get a good response.

As for the ending, this was how it was always planned even back then so if anything, it's true to form.

I ought to get around to writing!

[NeccAnon]

It was absolutely worth the wait. Frickin excellent.

Just a few comments: first, kind of felt like spike's backstory was sort of just tacked on to the end because you had never really gotten around to it previously. Seemed rushed and not fully thought through--or at least not given enough narrative importance or fleshing-out-work.
Secondly: I freaking knew it. Bagtail brown, discord. I had a hunch this read through that he was this world's version of discord.
Also: holy crap. This is getting a sequel? I'm psyched. This is one AU I can't wait to get to know.

[PingZing]

Had this on my RiL for a while based on Aragon's recommendation. Very glad I finally got to it. This was fun, and I loved getting a chance to play detective a little bit and figure out who was who, and how they were different.

Very sad to see Pinkie didn't make it out alive in this universe. She was too pure.

(Although. We never did see a body...)

I'd love to read a sequel!

[Conscat]

I had heard so many good things about this novel for years, and I'm very glad that I've finally gotten around to reading it! Amazing world and characters. I'm honestly surprised that you want a continuation, because I assumed that this belated finale existed just to have the novel over and one with at last. Nevertheless, I am very excited to see where these characters go from here!

[House of Masks]

It’s 4 AM and I just finished reading this. Got nothin to say but thanks for one of the best reads I’ve had this year.

[Shrubb]

Holy shit, what a ride. You truly managed to blend spaghetti westerns with the magic of friendship in such a riveting tale without leaning too hard into either. Thank you for this story.

[Conscat]

I finished rereading this last night, and I'm again blown away by just how good it is. Every character was so strongly written, every storyline was compelling and each chapter just gets better than the last!

I'm still shocked by how strong the ending was. I assumed the last chapter, being posted after a four year gap, would be more or less phoned in just to call the story done. But it being such a touching ending with a thoughtful twist very pleasantly surprised me. I think overall my favorite part might be Spike and Angel's chapter.

I hope a sequel is still on the table for one day, because I love Constance, Spike, Angel, and Moonshine and I'd absolutely read more of them all.