The Wayfarers

by TheFictionAddiction

Chapter Two: Another Day

Dodge Junction was a good quarter mile behind the trio before the party finally stopped. Little Whisper, a couple of steps ahead of Alabaster and Midnight Dreary, spun around and faced the two. Her eyes were alight with a fury that seemed not quite her own.

“Care to explain what that was all-” The words, along with her angry expression, died like an extinguished flame.

Alabaster was bent forward with his chest pressed close to the dusty ground and his flank raised high on outstretched hind legs, presenting a rather generous view to the town of Dodge Junction. Then, as if he wasn’t acting crude enough, he gave his flank a quick wiggle followed with a smack from a free hoof.

“That’s right, you country yokels!” Alabaster yelled. “Get a good look! Get a good luck, and PUCKER UP!”
He gave a few more jiggles before he felt satisfied with his little ‘tantrum’ and pushed himself back up on all fours. The pale stallion showed not an ounce of shame or guilt as he faced his companions, only untarnished composure.

“Did you say something, Whisper?” The silence that preceded was sharp and painful as they stared at each other; Alabaster with a raised eyebrow and Whisper with a scowl. Midnight’s gaze began to lift skyward as his cheeks turned a shade of crimson.

“Are you kidding me?” she barked. “What the heck, Al!” Alabaster grinned sheepishly.

“I know I have a weird way of expressing myself, but trust me when I say that it was completely called for.” Whisper face-hoofed.

“Dang it, Al,” she sighed. “I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about how we just got run out of another town!”

Alabaster’s grin slowly dropped. Whisper hardly ever got mad. Most of the times when he screwed up, she would just smile that damned smile and tell him that it was ‘all good’. It was the smile that really drove the guilt home. Almost like a loving scold, if such a thing really exists.

“Okay,” he began. “Do you remember that snobby cow from earlier today; the one who tried to start something with me over drinking their water?” Whisper nodded.

“Well, it turns out that she is the lead Bessie for some neurotic dairy farmer-” Alabaster then told Little Whisper his side of the whole ordeal, making sure to leave out as little as possible. From the violence-bound mare named Dusty, to the point where Sheriff Rhinestone accused all outlanders of being the bane of the nation and ordering them out of Dodge Junction. However, he did leave out the part where he scared the sheriff witless. He figured that bit might not work in his favor.

The story only took a couple of minutes to tell. Little Whisper listened in mute attendance, almost appearing to mentally measure every word he said like grains of sand on a scale. Once he finished, the silence that followed was almost stifling. Whisper’s brow furrowed as her gaze fell from Alabaster. She seemed to be studying her dirty and dusty hooves, but in truth, a torrent of thoughts were swirling around behind those soft eyes of hers.

“So, we weren’t thrown out because of what happened with the cows?” she asked herself, a bit bemused. “But because we were outlanders?”

“Yeah,” he said. “I guess it would have been better if we had just kept walking.”

“Al, do you think everyone in Equestria will be like that? That they will run us off like some kind of mangy stray?” Whisper’s eyes were beginning to brim with tears. It was hard enough that they were unwanted in the Dragon Land; now they would almost be akin to fugitives.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Alabaster dashed to her side, wrapped his leg around her neck. “You’re getting WAY ahead of yourself, Wisp. We may have just gotten a bad first impression, that’s all!”

“I hope you're right,” she sniffled, wiping her eyes before she could cry. Whisper was beginning to feel a little better until she felt him shrug.

“Even if I’m wrong, it won’t make much of a difference. It’s not like we can just get a refund on our tickets and sail back, not that I would if I could.”

“Gee, thanks, Al.” Whisper frowned. “You sure know what to say to lift a mare’s spirits.”

Alabaster had no response. Certainties were not something they could afford, and both were well aware of this. However, that did nothing to settle the knot that was forming in Whisper’s gut. The duo had not only traded away their tired past lives, but also most of the bits they had managed to scrounge together the last few months. What was left in their saddlebags would only carry them so far.

Little Whisper and Alabaster quietly brooded together; their only solace was the warmth of their embrace. To them the silence was like a cool rain bringing a brief reprieve from the summer heat. Midnight Dreary, however, found the calm to be stifling. Watching the two friends in each other’s grasp made him feel weird, like a stranger on the outside looking in. He was beginning to shrink away when Whisper finally noticed the odd stallion.

“I’m terribly sorry!” she exclaimed, pulling free from Alabaster. “With all of this excitement I didn’t even notice you. You must think we’re horribly rude.”

Midnight shook his head and gave her an awkward smile. “It’s completely fine. Things did seem to get a bit heated back there, so there’s no harm done.”

Even though Little Whisper returned his smile, she couldn’t help but eye him carefully. She wasn’t sure what qualified as an average-looking pony in Equestria, but she had the notion that the black stallion didn’t qualify as one. Partly because of his sharp—almost feminine—features, which Little Whisper actually found rather attractive. The last odd bit was the completely blank spot on the sides of his flanks. She pondered it only for a second.

“My name is Little Whisper, by the way,” she said warmly. “And I’m guessing you met Al already?”

“Call me Alabaster,” the pale pony interrupted. “Only Wisp here gets to call me Al.” There was no hostility in his words, only a hint of playfulness. Midnight simply nodded in return.

“I am Midnight Dreary. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

Little Whisper’s smile stretched a bit wider as she weighed his name in her head. Alabaster had been her only companion through most her travels, and though she loved the poor bloke like a brother, his company could at times be a bit strenuous—especially if it was a day where his temper got the best of him.

However, this fellow seemed to be made of completely different material than Alabaster. From the way he spoke and composed himself, Whisper could tell that Midnight was of a calm and gentle nature.

What Little Whisper failed to realize was that she had been “creeping” again. An uncomfortable silence had stretched on for a few seconds as she continued to measure the pony up. Whisper’s gaze felt like a spotlight to Midnight. He gave a fidgety glance to Alabaster, almost pleading for him to do something.

“All right,” Alabaster began. “Maybe we could resume this awkward silence a little farther away from the town that wanted to see us beaten to a pulp? I know that would make me feel better.” Bright crimson roses bloomed upon Whisper’s cheeks as her eyes shot around wildly, looking for someplace to focus on except for the two stallions.

“Y-yeah, that does sound smart, doesn’t it?” She didn’t wait for an answer; instead she started into a brisk trot. Alabaster and Midnight stared after her for a moment, one with an expression of confusion and the other with annoyance.

Crazy mare, Alabaster thought as he rushed to catch up with her. At least she isn’t mad at me or anything. Well, not yet anyway. It's never too late to piss someone off...
Midnight Dreary followed close behind him, although with seemingly less vigor. He still didn’t know what to make of this whole predicament, but he assumed that things could be worse. Maybe if he was lucky, the two would let him tag along. The thought of traversing the arid countryside without either direction or company did not appeal to him at all. Besides, traveling with them might help joggle something in his cloudy memory.

***

The lights of Dodge Junction had become a twinkle on the dark horizon. The light from the moon shone down in precious rays just bright enough that the trio could make out the map of Equestria that lay stretched out before them.

“So that’s where we’re going?” Alabaster asked, his eyes squinting to better see the names of the surrounding towns. “Appleloosa? Damn these Equestrians and their weird names. Maybe this is why no one respects them in the Dragon Lands.” Whisper looked up at him with a half-smile.

“And the names of places back there were so much better? Ashe-town, Smokeburge, Skull Mountain—or my favorite—Fried Hide Crossing.” Alabaster chuckled at that.

“I guess when you put it that way, Appleloosa doesn’t sound too bad. At least it’s safe to assume they will have some of that apple cider stuff.”

Alabaster paused for a moment at the thought of a nice cold drink. The pale stallion, who had the rather strange ability of burning alcohol off rather quickly, was already coming down from his buzz and preparing for another “take off”.

“That cider is a piss poor comparison to rum, but it sure as heck will do nicely.”

Little Whisper rolled her eyes as she folded up the map and set it back in her saddle bag.

“It’s going to be close to a day’s journey if we keep up a good pace,” she said with a [click] from her saddle’s buckle. Alabaster scratched his chin with the tip of his hoof as he began adding figures up in his head.

“It’s going to be rough,” he concluded, “especially since we don’t have any blasted canteens.”

Midnight’s ears perked at this. It seemed the opportunity to find his way into their group without coming right out and asking had finally presented itself.

“If it helps, I have a canteen on me that we could share…” Alabaster and Whisper could have received whiplash for how quickly their gazes shot to Midnight. They looked as if they had just noticed him for the first time.

“A full canteen?” Alabaster asked. Midnight nodded a bit timidly.

“Well hell, we’ve made do with worse than that before,” the pale stallion said with a grin. “If I was a dumb pony, I’d say that you being run out with us was a good thing!”

“Speaking of which, how were you involved with that mess exactly?” Little Whisper asked sympathetically. It ate at her that they had caused someone who they had just met so much trouble, especially since it was a particularly handsome someone.

Midnight was hesitant to respond. Everything had happened so fast, it almost seemed like a blur to think back upon it.

“Well,” Alabaster interjected, “it was kind of a guilty by association ordeal, Wisp. They all saw him with me and assumed he was traveling with us…” He paused for a moment.

“Sorry about that, by the way,” he added. “You might have been able to skirt through that blasted town if we hadn’t ran into each other.” Alabaster’s apology was met with a shrug.

“There was no guarantee of that. We all saw how paranoid they were. There’s a good chance someone else would have singled me out eventually. Besides, it will be nice to finally have some direction,” Midnight concluded thoughtfully.

Midnight’s eyes then began to glaze over for a second as he thought about his life as a whole. It didn’t take too long since his memory only went back to a few days earlier.

Little Whisper and Alabaster watched him inquisitively, wondering if he actually heard what he just said.

“Hmmmm, there’s definitely a story there. I can smell it.” As if to punctuate the remark, Alabaster flared his nostrils and sniffed loudly.

“What? No!” Midnight protested innocently. “I was just thinking aloud!”

“No use in denying it. I’ve been in and out of taverns for most of my life. And if all that time around drunken travelers and bards taught me anything, it’s how to pick out a pony with a juicy story. It’s almost like a sixth sense.”

“He’s not lying,” Whisper chirped in. “Give Al enough time and alcohol, and he’ll fish out something worth talking about… over and over again...” Alabaster gave an annoyed flick of his tail at her flank.

“Seriously though, out with it. I haven’t heard anything interesting in a while!”

Little Whisper usually didn’t mind Alabaster’s banter, but she saw the unease painted across Midnight’s face. It was obvious to her that this was a pony who stayed a bit on the timid side. Not necessarily a bad thing in all honesty. Whisper gave him a subtle kick in the leg.

“Ouch!” Alabaster hopped back, wings flaring out. “What was that for?”

“You’re not making a good impression,” she muttered.

“Oh? Sorry, I must have gotten carried away.” He laughed, hoping it would relieve how awkward he suddenly felt.

“It is completely fine,” Midnight assured him, showing a weak smile to prove it. “It’s just… I don’t…” Words eluded Midnight like a shadow leaping from a flame. Finally, he steadied himself and began again.

“I don’t think either of you two would believe me if I told you.”

Whisper and Alabaster seemed like nice ponies, and Midnight could see himself coming to like them. Not only that, he wanted to talk about his condition. Maybe sharing it would help him feel less anxious about everything.

However, he did his best not to remain too hopeful. Nothing was certain to him, and he doubted if it ever would be.

The duo glanced at each other before sharing a knowing smile. The dark stallion felt his heart quicken.

“D-did I say something funny?” Midnight asked, almost in hysteria.

“No, it’s nothing like that,” Alabaster said good-heartedly. “Really more of an inside joke between the two of us.” Midnight raised an eyebrow, hoping that they would fill him in on whatever had just transpired.

Whisper smiled. “Look, just trust us when we say that there isn’t really anything too farfetched for us to believe in. Okay?”

Midnight nodded, not sure he could believe her or not. Oh well, he thought. It’s not like I have much to lose. It took a few moments to compose his thoughts, and only a little longer to tell his narrative. He began with how he woke up on some rock farm, not too far away, with no idea who he was or what he was supposed to be doing. That seemed like a good enough place to start.

The family who owned the farm, a quirky couple with a few daughters, had apparently found him sprawled out in the dirt on that scorching afternoon. It had given them quite the scare, for most of them thought that poor Midnight Dreary was likely a sun-stroked desperado that had been migrating from the north. If it wasn’t for the big heart and persuasive tongue of the Mother, then Midnight probably would have been food for the buzzards. However, they learned quickly how harmless he was once he awoke.

For about three weeks the days seemed to roll by like tear drops. He was almost in a constant state of gloom and confusion, which could be quite expected of one who had been cast aside like a piece from a jigsaw puzzle. It was during the fourth week when he finally found the desire to venture forth into Equestria, maybe in the hopes of finding some kind of clue as to who he was.

The family was all too willing to help. Apparently the couple was quite sympathetic since they had a daughter who had wandered out into the world much like himself, though he seriously believed that she struck out on much better terms. Midnight rode with the father into Dodge Junction one early morning on a wagon that would later be filled with stock and supplies for the farm. The strange and quirky family left him with a parting gift; a canteen, a few loaves of bread, and enough money to make sure he wouldn’t go hungry for a bit. Midnight did not ask for more, nor did he want to. They had done enough for him already.

Midnight felt awkward recounting the tale, but he could almost feel a weight lift from his shoulders.

“Amnesia? That’s what you thought we wouldn’t believe?” Midnight blinked at Alabaster’s response.

“Yeah,” Whisper said. “That isn’t really unbelievable, Midnight.”

“Hell, I remember a time back in Ashe-town when I knocked this one guy out. When he came to, he had forgotten everything that had happened in the last few hours. The bastard didn’t even remember meeting me!” Alabaster laughed as he thought back on that particular gem. He had bought the guy a cold one and convinced him that they were cousins. Good times.

“Anyway,” Whisper sighed. “What I’m curious about is how do you have a name if you couldn’t remember who you are?”

“One of the farmer’s daughters,” he answered with a small smile. “She named me that. She said that I looked like some character that was illustrated in a book of folk stories.”

The mare nodded, one question answered, but quickly followed up with another.

“What about your cognitive abilities? You don’t have any problems with that?”

Midnight shook his head.

“No, I am able to speak and think just fine. I even know how to read and write. The only thing that’s missing is who I am.”

She contemplated this for a few seconds, thinking back upon when she used to accompany a medicine mare back in the Dragon Lands. They had seen many odd cases together, but nothing quite like what Midnight described.

“And that’s all there is? Nothing else that might be strange?”

“Not at all,” Midnight lied.

There were in fact some things that he thought would be better left unsaid. Like the weird dreams and the waking visions.

-and the voices-

Midnight decided to write them off as a few odd quirks, mainly because he didn’t want to frighten away two possible companions.

“What do you think about that, Al?” Whisper asked with a sideways glance. Alabaster frowned and gave a shrug.

“What the hell would it matter? I’m neither a doctor nor a counselor. Last time I checked, I’m better at causing problems than solving them… sorry, pal,” he added quickly with an earnest smile.

The dark stallion nodded, understanding that Alabaster meant no harm. However, his posture seemed to droop in a sulky matter, much like a wilting flower. It wasn’t out of sadness that he did this, but instead it was a habit for whenever begun to think deeply. A rather bad one in fact, as it was easy for others around him to mistake the gesture. Just like Whisper and Alabaster at that very moment.

Her eyes flashed pleadingly to Alabaster, begging him to say something. His hoof pressed lightly on his temple and he made sure to think hard this time about what he was to say.

“Look, Midnight,” he paused. “It was Midnight right? I’m not getting that wrong?”

There was a small nod from the other stallion before softly adding, “Midnight Dreary.”

“Oh, that’s right. Look, don’t get too down about it. There’s no use in getting upset about something that you can’t change. And believe me, there’s not a lot you will be able to change out here in the middle of nowhere-”

Midnight looked up and met Alabaster’s gaze. There was something very strange about the stallion that Alabaster couldn’t understand. It wasn’t anything bad, or he didn’t think it was at least.

“-Why don’t you put off giving this whole ordeal some thought until we get to Appaloosa, huh? Then you can do all the pondering you want on a nice, comfy bed.”

“You mean,”—Midnight’s eyes began to widen—“you don’t mind me traveling with you two?”

“Of course not!” Alabaster looked at him as he had just grown a third eyeball. “Why would I care about you coming with us?” A shrug was all Midnight could answer with.

“Besides,” Alabaster continued, “it’s the least we could do since it’s kind of our fault you’re out here.”

And because you’re the only guy within the immediate area that has water to share.

That part was better left within Alabaster’s mind. It would have earned a good thump to the back of the head from Whisper.

For what may have been the first time since he departed from the rock farm, the edges of Midnight’s mouth lifted into a genuine smile. Sweet relief would have been a good start to describe the sensation that he was feeling.

This did not go unnoticed by Little Whisper. She saw the earnestness in his face and felt a surging wave of fondness for the dark pony. Midnight had managed to tug upon the strings of her heart, for Whisper and Alabaster both had been where he was now, in one way or another.

Although she wasn’t sure what lay ahead for any of them, she found herself looking forward with renewed enthusiasm. Whisper quickly reasoned this was because she had made a new friend, which wasn’t something that happened every day.

With overly long introductions out of the way, Alabaster suggested that they move on ahead for a bit to set up camp for the night. The idea of trudging through the night in that dusty countryside when they were already tired sounded atrocious. Besides, sleep was one of the few things free in the world. Why not enjoy it?

Little Whisper and Midnight Dreary thought it was a good notion as well and agreed quite eagerly.

***

The trio’s “camp” consisted of three bedrolls stretched out on the ground. It wasn’t much, but it sure did beat nothing. There were some nights where Alabaster and Whisper had nothing, and they were quite glad that wasn’t the case anymore.

Midnight divvied some of the water in his canteen to Alabaster, but was quite surprised when Whisper turned the offer down.

“Are you sure?” Midnight asked. “You said that you lost your canteens earlier. If you have been traveling all day in the heat without them, then you should really have something to drink.” He held out the canteen as if to punctuate his point.

Whisper felt touched by his concern, but she also knew that they were now treading down a slippery slope. This was a roadblock that she had danced around many times. However, that didn’t make it easier.

“I guess you’re right,” she conceded, catching Alabaster throwing a glance their way as he straightened his bedroll. “I just wanted to make sure we had enough to last tomorrow.”

“It’ll be fine. Besides, you said it will only take half a day. We should have enough if we are careful.” Midnight was very adamant that she have something to drink. He didn’t want either of his new companions becoming dehydrated on the coming trek.

Whisper smiled weakly as she took the canteen from him and brought it up to her lips. It was a quick swig, but it would look real enough. She used her tongue to stop up the hole and keep any of the water from entering her mouth.

The water was foul to her, almost like what she thought sulfur should taste like. It took every bit of willpower to keep herself from gagging, but nonetheless, she completed the façade with a smile on her face.

“Thank you,” she beamed. “Sometimes I forget I’m just as much pony as everyone else.” Midnight nodded and replaced the canteen back into his saddle. This earned a little sigh of relief from Alabaster that went unnoticed by the other two.

That’s my girl.

It didn’t take them too much longer to settle down after that. The day behind them, along with the journey ahead, weighed down upon the trio like lead weight. They surely didn’t need any help falling asleep. Well, Whisper and Alabaster didn’t.

Midnight was just about to crawl within the depths of his bedroll, when something Whisper was doing caught his eye. She was already snuggled into her own bedroll, but had her hoof buried into the saddlebag that lay next to her.

He almost asked her what she was looking for when she withdrew a battered-looking stuffed pony. A wide grin tipped the sides of her mouth as she brought the plush toy into what looked like a monstrous bear hug.

“You carry a toy with you?” Midnight asked. Whisper looked up to him, still wearing her smile, and nodded.

“His name is Mr. Smiles! I’ve had him since I was just a little filly.” Whisper paused to nuzzle the toy affectionately.

“Mr. Smiles here has watched over me while I slept for as long as I can remember, always protecting me from the dark!” Midnight raised an eyebrow.

“Why do you call him Mr. Smiles?” Whisper’s grin only grew that much more. She lifted him up for Midnight to see better. Mr. Smiles had a faded green coat, a light purple mane, two button eyes, and a smile stitched across his muzzle.

“Because no matter how many parts of him I’ve had to replace and get repaired, never once have I had to fix his smile!”

“Come on, guys!” Alabaster groaned from his roll. “I’m trying to sleep here!” Midnight shared Whisper’s smile for a moment before turning away to slide between the folds of his bedroll.

The party settled down fairly quickly. In only a few minutes, Alabaster’s breathing would become heavy as sleep took him in a firm grasp. Little Whisper would fidget for a bit, turning over a few times to get comfortable. Eventually sleep would seize her next with her face buried into Mr. Smiles’ soft mane.

However, as Alabaster and Whisper snoozed, Midnight laid wide-eyed and awake. Sleep would not come for him so easily... it never did. Instead he watched as the shadows of the night crept lazily across the dry earth, like fingers that were stretching outward to caress him.

Midnight screwed his eyes shut and did his best to think of something else. This did nothing to hinder what was to come.
The voices.

The stallion’s breaths became shallow as the shadows began to whisper quietly. At first they spoke in voices that he didn’t quite recognize. Their words were rushed in anger and were hard to understand. Eventually one voice flittered through the throng that seemed to stand apart from the rest.

“Those dang foreign bastards think they can just parade about like they own the place, scarin’ the heck out of anypony as they so please. That one fella is lucky that the Sheriff sent ‘em out before I could get my hooves on him…”

Midnight’s heart skipped a beat as he recognized that the voice belonged to the mare that attacked Alabaster. There was a muffled response to the mare that Midnight couldn’t quite make out.

“Oh, I don’t know, Oak. I guess I’m just a little worked up…. What? She paused for moment before laughing. Hmmm, that might make me feel better. Best keep it down though, we don’t want the others thinkin’ I’m soft on ya!”

A few brief moments later there was a fit of giggles and an odd slurping. Midnight’s cheeks reddened under his dark fur.

PLEASE STOP, PLEASE STOP, PLEASE STOP, PLEASE STOP, reverberated within his mind like an explosion. The carnal sounds, along with the other voices, slowly began to ebb away like a dying echo. Soon things were quiet for him once more.

However, Midnight knew that they were not gone. Not completely at least. He knew that the voices laid in wait, waiting for him to will them back. If he could find a way to describe the strange experience, he would say it was like using the radio that was on the rock farm. The shadows seemed to act like a transistor of sorts, picking up all sorts of conversations and secrets to share with him.

Midnight remembered sitting up most of the night, listening to the farmer’s daughters chatting and talking about ponies from the next town over. He didn’t really think much of it at the time; in fact he rather enjoyed it at first. Almost as if he was sitting in on the conversation too. That quickly changed, however, when they started talking about stallions… Among other things. From that point on, Midnight did his best to distance himself from the strange ability. It worked for the most part. He never heard anything from the shadows during the day, though he never really tried to listen out for them. It’s at night when they came the strongest. Unfortunately, he couldn't always just shoo them away like he did.

Midnight buried himself deeper into the cover of his bedroll, relishing the silence.

“That’s right…” Alabaster muttered in his sleep. “Make it a double… oh yeah… just leave the bottle...”

Well, it was silent enough for him. Midnight would brood upon his situation for only a little longer. Eventually, he too would succumb to exhaustion.

Author's Note:

~Ending theme, I guess...

Comments

[The Villain in Glasses]

TFW you can hear a couple getting down and dirty in the next room over...

(except in this case, it's the next town over...)