Episode 02: Wanted Mare, Part II
26th of Burning Season, 1005 BA
A fragile quiet had settled upon the world. Rarity sat in her lounge chair on the second floor of her home, a cup of lukewarm tea held tightly in her hands. She stared at the beverage in silence, not really seeing it. No, what she saw, over and over again like a terrible dream, was a pony dying on her shop floor, his blood seeping into the wood. She fought down the urge to scrub at her hands, no matter how dirty they felt.
What could she have done differently? A hundred things. A thousand. They swirled around her head like flies, annoying and consuming of all thought and reason.
“It’s not your fault,” they said. “You were well within your right to do it.”
They didn’t understand. She was a murderer. She’d taken the life of another pony, and the blood seemed permanently soaked into her skin. Ponies succumbed to acts of violence every day, but she’d always considered herself above such… such barbarity. Where was her haughty confidence now? Did she have any right to talk down to ponies who lived their lives by the gun?
“Rarity?”
The voice, ever so familiar, drifted into Rarity’s consciousness. Slowly, she looked up. Coco stood close by, hands opening and closing repeatedly at her sides. The young mare couldn’t meet her gaze. “Um, Cranky would like a word.”
Cranky? Ah, right, Cranky Doodle. She wasn’t in the mood to entertain visitors. She merely turned her gaze back to the teacup in her hands.
“I’ll… I’ll just let him up. Okay?”
She pondered denying the suggestion, but couldn’t bring herself to speak. After a moment, Coco left her to her silence. Rarity welcomed this until she realized that Cranky would indeed be coming up soon. Closing her aching eyes, she let the world wash away in darkness for a few precious seconds. There would be no crying. Enough tears had been shed. Now she had to face the consequences of her actions, of becoming a killer.
She’d had an entire night to think on it. They might object, but the more Rarity pondered what she’d learned, the more it made sense to her. Time was of the essence… and yet she couldn’t bring herself to stand.
Like an anchor, Rarity’s body refused any attempts she made at motion. She felt so weary, and not just because she’d spent the entire night awake in her chair thinking about her crime. Still, she couldn’t take time for sleep. If she could just force her body to obey her commands and let her begin, she might be able to avoid any additional bloodshed.
“Miss Belle.”
Rarity yelped, but even that sounded feeble to her ears. Cranky stood a respectable distance away, watching her with a softer expression than she’d ever witnessed on his grizzled face, though that didn’t mean much. He raised an eyebrow as she continued to stare. “You alright?”
Heat built in the back of her mind, coalescing all her pent-up emotions into a tight ball of anxiety. “No, I am not. I’m a murderer now, in case you haven’t noticed. This makes me about as far from ‘alright’ as a mare can possibly be.”
“You’re no murderer.” He leaned against the wall and pulled out an extract stick. He probably didn’t notice her glare, but even so he apparently decided it wasn’t worth it and put the stick back in his pocket. “You had every right to do what you did.”
“And how would you know?” she shot back. “Were you there? Oh, no, you weren’t!”
He scowled at her, and Rarity abruptly realized her own words. She set her fingers to her lips and turned away. “I-I’m sorry. I know you were doing your best. I’m just so stressed right now, I c-can’t…”
With a sigh, he grumbled, “S’alright, Miss. I’m feeling the guilt too. If I hadn’t let those other two distract me this wouldn’t have happened.”
The temptation to acknowledge his guilt was strong, but Rarity resisted. His excuse was perfectly legitimate, and she would not blame him for making what had appeared to be the correct decision at the time. With hands clenched to her armrests, she took a few more calming breaths. “And how are Banter and Sandy?”
“Banter’s fine. Just got grazed. His boy’s a nervous wreck and Night Squash’s flapping around like a spooked desert owl, but they’ll get over it. Lucky the two drifters didn’t stick around or they’d both be eating dirt.”
“Good.” She sagged back into her chair. “That’s good.”
A moment of quiet passed between them. Rarity wondered what he intended, and how he’d react to her new plan. Rubbing her eyes in an attempt to get the sleepiness out, she went over her words. That didn’t get very far, because the implications of her idea settled upon her like a thick blanket of ice. Her shop, her home, her future…
Coco’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “Tea, Deputy?”
“Thanks.” Cranky accepted the cup, but didn’t drink. He was too busy watching Rarity with those hawkish eyes.
Coco offered Rarity a fresh cup. When Rarity made no move to take it, she put the tea set down, took the new cup and pushed it into Rarity’s hands. She left the room without another word, taking the old teacup and tray with her.
Another second of quiet passed before Cranky coughed. “I need to tell you a few things about that drifter you shot.”
Rarity groaned and took a sip of the hot tea – then took a longer gulp. She set the cup down, took a deep breath, and looked him in the eye. “He was a Bad Apple.”
Cranky’s face didn’t shift at this statement, merely maintained its gruff neutrality. “Yeah.”
She nodded. “And he told me that… that more of the Apple Gang will come for me now.”
“He told you right.” He raised his teacup, then paused to look at it as if he’d forgotten it was there. His shoulders sank, but only a little, and at last he took a sip. The twisting of his expression led to him promptly putting the cup down on the coffee table. “My apologies to Miss Pommel. Yes, the Gang’s going to come for you. But not just them; the Apple Family proper will be looking into this. They’re also going to want the body.”
That made Rarity blink. “The… the Family itself? But I thought there was no love lost between the Gang and the Family?”
He nodded. “Right, but they’re still blood. And to them, that’s big. You’re a wanted mare, Miss Belle.”
More so than she’d thought, it would seem. This news only forced Rarity to move faster. She cast a slow look around the room, taking in her home of six years. Everything precisely where and how she liked it, the furnishings and paint and décor hand-picked or even made herself. Even the chair she now sat in, easily the most comfortable she’d ever known. The sight of it all made saying her next words feel like needles scraping along her throat.
“I have to leave.”
Now it was Cranky who blinked, which was about as close to ‘surprise’ as his expression offered. “I came to the same conclusion. But it’ll be tricky.”
“I know.” Rarity rose from her seat, brushing her skirt off just to keep the shaking in her hands hidden. She clasped them behind her back. “Braeburn’s posse is still out there, and will no doubt be watching for my departure.”
He studied her, perhaps trying to gauge her composure, though she couldn’t be certain of anything with that eternal glower of his. “The next supply train will be here in four days. You can head out with it. I’ll—”
“No.” Sucking in another deep breath to keep her voice under control, she continued. “If I stay, they may attempt to come for me. I know you and a few others would try to defend me. I can’t let that happen.” She raised her hand to forestall his argument. “I said no. I won’t see anypony in this town harmed because of me. At worst, somepony here may kill one of them, and that’ll put another pony on the Apples’ wanted list. Why, they might even consider razing the town, just like they did Ponyville over a decade ago.”
Cranky stiffened, his hand clenching around but not quite grabbing his revolver. “Seventeen years ago.” He said the words with such certainty that Rarity didn’t doubt his accuracy.
“You see my point.” She turned to face the window with hands on her hips, ensuring he couldn’t see the quiver in her lip. “I… I’ll leave Spurhoof. Find my own way. At least then the Apples will have no reason to do any more harm to this town.”
“It’s suicide,” he groused. “You want to go off on your own? The rest of Braeburn’s little band will be on you in an hour, maybe two. Then what? You wait for the wagon train. At least then you’ll be protected on your way to Mooisville.”
“Mooisville?” Rarity turned to him once more, hoping her face showed her determination and not the frightened pony in the back of her mind. “No. I can’t go back. My family is there, and if I try to go back they may be targeted.” She winced at the sudden realization that she’d probably never see her parents or sister again, but pushed the thought away. There’d be a time later for self-pity. Hopefully. “And I’m not waiting for the caravan.”
He glared at her, but otherwise made no attempt to argue. Rarity met his gaze with a glare of her own, ignoring as best she could her lingering doubts. She knew this was the right course of action, and she wouldn’t let him intimidate her out of it. Granted, it might not work… but better her life than an entire town. She had to do this.
She had to.
Abruptly, Cranky turned and walked to the door. “I’ll be back.”
The sudden motion jarred her thoughts. “W-what? Where are you going?”
He paused at the door to cast a hard frown over his shoulder. “You’re gonna need some things.” He disappeared downstairs without another word.
Not a second later, Coco came running into the room. Rarity had only enough time to brace before the young mare slammed into her with a bone-crushing hug. “Please wait for the wagons!”
Stumbling back, Rarity regained her footing. Her first instinct had been to reprimand the mare for eavesdropping, but the tears spilling down Coco’s cheeks stopped her words short. After a moment’s hesitation, she returned the embrace. “Coco, Darling, please. D-don’t make this any more difficult than it already is.”
Coco looked up at her with eyes shimmering wet. “B-but if you leave now those brutes will follow, and then you’ll die!”
“Oh, no.” Rarity hoped her smile was more confident than she felt. “I have absolutely no intention of dying. They can chase my tail all they want. They won’t be the first boys to have tried.”
The attempt at humor failed to soften Coco’s horrified expression. She pressed her head to Rarity’s breast and trembled. “You can’t go, not yet. The ponies here love you, th-they’ll defend you.”
Sighing, Rarity rubbed Coco’s back as she considered her words. “That’s exactly why I need to leave. I can’t let them do that. They used Night Squash’s family to distract Cranky so Braeburn could get to me. They won’t be playing so nicely when they come back. At least if I’m not here then the Apples will have no reason to harm anypony in Spurhoof.”
“But you don’t know that!” Coco stepped back only to grasp Rarity’s hand in both of hers. “They might do it anyway.”
“Which brings me to another topic.” Tightening her grip on Coco’s hand, Rarity leaned a little closer. “You need to go too.”
Her eyes went wide. “Y-you mean you want me to come with you?”
“Oh, heavens, no!” Rarity shook her head frantically. “That’s the least safe thing for you. No, I want you to get on the wagon train when it leaves Spurhoof.”
Coco chewed her lip and looked around them, her ears folding back against her head. “B-but Spurhoof is my home. Where would I go?”
“Mooisville.” Putting her smile back on, Rarity fought down the sting in her chest. “Somepony needs to inform my parents of what’s happened. And they can give you a place to stay, at least until you get back on your hooves.”
“B-but I—”
“I’m also giving you everything in the safe, to take with you on your journey.” Rarity turned away, trying not to think about how cold her hand felt when it left Coco’s. “It will be more than enough to get you there, and keep you going for a while until you can resume your apprenticeship. I’ll write you a recommendation that should be more than enough for any of the clothiers in the city. You’ll go far, my dear, that I can assure you.” She hurried to the desk on the wall, rummaging through the drawers in search of some parchment.
Coco remained silent as she searched. At last a sheet of paper was uncovered, only for Rarity to realize she had no pens. Maintaining her smile, she stood up straight and marched for the stairs… only to pause at the top step. Her gaze lingered on the ground floor. For all the light shining in from the shop floor’s windows, the space below seemed dark. Different. Foreboding.
“Rarity?”
Stiffening her posture, Rarity forced her legs to move. She felt something within, an unpleasant squirming in her guts that grew worse with every step she took. You can do this, Rarity. It’s not like his ghost is going to rise up and drag you into Tartarus with… Bad image. Bad image! She shook her head violently, and when her eyes opened she was at the bottom of the steps. With ears splayed and heart pounding, she made herself peer around the doorway into the storefront.
Everything was exactly as it had been last night. The same clothes, the same signs, the same racks. And yet, it all seemed so horribly different. Her eyes were unable to avoid the spot behind the counter, where the wall and floor still showed the stains of blood despite Coco’s determined cleaning efforts sometime this morning. She could make out Braeburn’s body shape in the form of the stains, could see him sitting there with those vacant eyes.
Standing was all she could do. Her knees wobbled and her mind ran in familiar circles of What have I done? and Why did I do it? She leaned against the doorframe, panting and pressing a hand to her lips to keep the nastiness confined to her mouth.
A gentle hand grasped her shoulder, another her arm. “C’mon,” Coco whispered. “Let’s go back upstairs. We can—”
Rarity jerked away. With a bit more focus she regained her straight-backed posture. Her body trembled, but she stepped into the light of the windows and made her way to the front counter. Every ounce of will went into not looking at the stain on the wall again. At last she reached her destination. Her hands shook with such force that she almost couldn’t lift the pen sitting next to the register. It was only after she turned back around to face the front of her shop that she realized she’d forgotten the sheet of parchment upstairs.
She stared at her empty hand, slowly opening and closing it. “Coco. Be a dear and get me some p-paper, won’t you?”
Coco, still standing in the doorway, took a step closer. “Why don’t you come upstairs with me? There’s no need for you to—”
Rarity’s hands balled into fists. “Get me some paper, Coco. I’m writing you that letter, and I will do it down here.”
Her apprentice – former apprentice, she reminded herself with no small pang – flinched at her tone. Coco wrung her hands for a few seconds, seeming at a loss, but finally went back upstairs.
Leaning back against the counter, Rarity crossed her arms and took slow, even breaths. She bowed her head, letting her mane cover her face. “You can beat this, Rarity,” she whispered. “You won’t run away like a sc-scared filly. Get over it. G-get over it.” She murmured the words again and again, struggling to keep her breathing under control.
Seconds passed. Or was it minutes? She was too focused on not thinking about the stain at her back to know. She wished Coco would hurry, only to curse her own weakness and insist silently that she stay upstairs for even longer. This is – used to be – her home, and she wouldn’t let it get to her just because she’d shot a stallion in it!
Yet the very thought proved treacherous, forcing something up through her stomach. She leaned forward and gagged, a hand over her mouth. With no small amount of effort, she pushed the sensation back down. She was fine. “I’m fine.”
Movement drew her eye to the stairs. Coco stood there, hands behind her back and head bowed, but her eyes met Rarity’s. “Oh, there you are, Darling. Did you get the paper?”
Coco kicked at the ground, suddenly unable to meet Rarity’s eyes. “Is there really no way I can convince you to stay?”
Rarity opened her mouth to respond… and closed it again. What could she say now that hadn’t already been spoken? In her current state, in this place, she wasn’t even sure she would be able to keep her nerve. But backing down wasn’t an option, so she shook her head.
Shoulders sagging, Coco nodded. Then, after a moment’s hesitation, she brought her hands forward. What she held made Rarity gasp: a necklace of dull bronze. It sported a single large, pale stone such as Rarity had never seen before, nestled between two plates that resembled clouds. Not very large, the worn, ancient jewelry sported delicate-looking markings to complement the aerial imagery.
Compelled by fascination, curiosity, and a strange desire she didn’t understand, Rarity moved to examine the necklace up close. “Coco… what is this?”
“I’ve had this since I was little,” Coco replied, voice quiet. “My momma gave it to me before she passed away. It always brought me luck.” She smiled and raised the necklace closer to Rarity.
It took a moment for Rarity to realize her intent. She stood up straight and pushed back on the necklace. “Darling, no. I can’t. Isn’t it important to you?”
“You’re going to need it more than me,” Coco replied. She raised the necklace up to Rarity once more.
“B-but, I can’t possibly…” Her words stilled as she stared into that strange white stone. Why do I feel like it belongs to me already? She shook her head forcefully and stepped back. “No. I won’t let you sacrifice something so precious.”
Coco’s smile didn’t budge, and she countered Rarity’s retreat by stepping closer. “You’re a hundred times more precious. You’re sacrificing everything for this town, for me. This is nothing in comparison.”
The wetness in her gaze revealed the lie for what it was, but also gave Rarity pause. She couldn’t deny that this gesture was touching, and as much as she fought the idea, she really wanted that necklace. It seemed like such a frivolous thing to think about now, but… “I… I suppose…”
As quiet as the doorbell was, it seemed like a gunshot in Rarity’s ears. She jumped and turned to find Cranky standing in her doorway, a large wooden case in his hands. Before she could respond to his sudden presence, Coco shoved the necklace into her arms and ran upstairs, the heart-wrenching sound of sobs following in her wake.
Rarity watched her go, clutching the necklace to her chest and feeling strangely guilty. She bowed her head and heaved a sigh. “I’m sorry, Coco.” She didn’t know what she was sorry for, but she said it with sincerity.
“You’re going to need more than some fancy neckwear to keep you alive out there, Miss Belle,” Cranky groused as he approached. He paused a few feet away and sighed. “Sorry if I interrupted.”
Stifling a sniff of her own, Rarity brushed her eyes and shook her head. “It’s okay, Deputy. W-what’s in the box?”
He patted the top gently, as if the box and its contents were fragile. “A friend left this with me years back. She told me to give it to somepony who could really use it. Can’t think of a more qualified pony than you.” He stepped past to set the box down on the counter before opening it and turning it to her. The sight made Rarity back up a quick step.
It was a revolver, but not a traditional revolver like his. The metal gleamed bright silver, the handle crafted of solid wood that had been dyed a midnight blue. The cylinder featured a strange set of small mechanisms she didn’t recognize, and four more cylinders lay alongside the gun in addition to the one already in it. She noted with no small curiosity that each cylinder held only five rounds instead of six. Emblazoned in silver letters on the handle were the words Silver Lining.
She had intended to reject his offer, but upon seeing the words her rejection was forgotten in favor of something else entirely. “I recognize that name,” she whispered. “That’s not… the Silver Lining, is it?”
He nodded. “Don’t ask how I came by it. That’s private.”
“B-But that gun belonged to the Shrouding Midnight.” Rarity took another step back, holding Coco’s necklace close. “It’s a legend in its own right! Cranky, how did you—” Her mouth closed so fast her teeth clicked when she caught the heat of his eyes. “Right. Private. S-sorry.” She looked to the gun, then to him. “You… no. Cranky, no!”
“You got a real problem with the word ‘yes,’ haven’t ya?” He reached into the box, pulling out the soft casing that held the gun and revealing a second compartment, which held a belt holster. “You’re about to do something crazy and stupid. If you think I’m going to let you do it without having some means of defending yourself, you have no idea how wrong you are.”
Rarity stared at Silver Lining, heart thundering in her chest. The sound of a gunshot lingered in her ears, and the faint memory of blood haunted her fingertips. “I… I d-don’t know if I c-can…”
He pulled the revolver from the case and, holding it by the barrel, offered it to her. “You have to. If you can’t, then you’ll be dead by sunrise tomorrow. Take it.”
He was right. She knew he was right. She had no choice. If she wanted to live, to see this through to the best possible ending, she had to. But to actually use a gun, to make a serious attempt on another pony’s life…
But what about her life? When it came to her or them, she certainly didn’t want to guarantee that it would be her. The violence and blood seemed so vulgar and horrid. Such things had always been beneath her, a lady of class and sophistication. To go around carrying a gun like some brutish, roughhousing…!
She turned her eyes away, only to find herself gazing upon the stain on her wall. The sight shoved a wedge of ice down into her chest, and for a time that blot was her entire world. A darkness, where once there’d been pure white. Was that what she would become if she accepted Cranky’s gift? Would she be less if she didn’t?
A gun had saved her life, and Coco’s. A gun. Not her money, not her looks, not her wits. For the first time in her life, Rarity understood that some things could only be settled one way. With eyes downcast, she took Silver Lining’s handle in both hands. The gun was lighter than she’d anticipated.
The world already felt darker.
Blue jeans. Rarity had never imagined she’d be wearing such things, but here she was, out in the hot sun behind the sheriff’s office with Cranky. Not once had she worn any of the working clothes she’d designed for her shop, having always preferred her more magnificent dress designs. Practicality had won out, however; even she knew going out in the desert alone in a dress was idiotic. Still, Rarity never designed clothes without an eye for style, and she could at least be satisfied that she could even make common jeans and a white blouse look fashionable.
Of course, the jeans also went better with Silver Lining’s holster, which she now wore. The thing was dreadfully uncomfortable and she longed to work her magic on it, but there simply wasn’t time. Instead, she found herself staring down the revolver’s sights at a wooden target, her hands shaking and sweat beading on her brow.
Cranky’s gravelly voice interrupted her distracting musings. “You look like you’re trying to choke the gun.”
Cringing, she tried to relax her grip. The shaking in her hands lessened, but wouldn’t go away. She took deep breaths, trying not to think about the sun beating on her back, or the way strands of her mane tickled her nose, or the dreadful anticipation of the gunshot. The sound rang in her ears again and again, though she had yet to pull the trigger. She swore she could see red in the corner of her vision. Was the handle sticky? It was sweat.
Just sweat.
“Relax,” Cranky said, his voice a whisper. “Don’t think about it. Just look and pull.”
Rarity swallowed the lump in her throat and squeezed the trigger. Nothing happened. Was she simply not pressing hard—?
She closed her eyes against the cracking retort, almost dropping Silver Lining in her surprise. She opened them immediately after, gaping at the weapon now lowered towards the ground. A shock ran through her, making her heart pound, but the sensation faded slowly once she realized that, of course, nopony had been harmed. She looked to Cranky and received a near equal shock to see something that might have been a smile on his face.
“There. Not so bad, right?” He gestured to the gun. “Again. Try not to close your eyes this time.”
Easy for him to say! Pursing her lips, Rarity lifted Silver Lining once more and focused on her aim. Not on how she was practicing to kill ponies, or the explosive shot that would be far too loud, or the way these jeans made her feel more naked than clothed, or how miserable Coco had looked when she—
Another shot, another blink. This time the kick of the gun made her take a step back. She sighed and shook her head. “I d-don’t know about this. I’m probably missing. Badly.”
“We don’t check your aim ‘till you’ve emptied the cylinder,” he replied sharply. He reached into his vest and pulled out a canteen. “You blink again and I’ll pour some of this on your head.”
“You wouldn’t.” Yet when she tried to stare him down, she found nothing but an expression of stone. “O-oh dear. You would, wouldn’t you?”
He popped the top, took a small sip. “Again.”
Resisting the urge to chew her lip, she leveled Silver Lining once more. What did he have in that canteen, anyway? Probably just water. That wouldn’t be so bad. No worse than her own sweat, which was starting to become distracting, but she did her best to ignore it; it wasn’t as if she’d have regular baths out in the desert. By the Night Mother, but that was a terrible thought!
Focus, Rarity. She narrowed her eyes and fought against her wobbling hands. Focus. You’ve got to learn this. A few hours is hardly enough time, so make use of it while you can.
Her concentration and determination settled, she clenched her teeth and concentrated on the target. She wouldn’t rush. Take a breath, as Cranky had taught her, hold it, and…
Silver Lining kicked, and this time she thought she saw the flash of the barrel. There was a moment’s pause. She’d done it. She’d fired without blinking. With a long exhale, she allowed herself the slightest of smiles. Perhaps I can learn to do this after all.
Another thought, far more bitter, came to her: Yes, be proud, Rarity. You’re learning how to kill ponies. Such lofty goals. She almost threw the gun away, but instead forced her grip to tighten.
“Two more shots,” Cranky said. “Go on.”
They passed far more quickly, and Rarity was both proud she didn’t blink and disgusted at her pride in such a thing. The gun emptied, she raised it to her shoulder and turned to him. “Now let’s see how badly I missed.”
“Not so fast.” He patted his hip. “Let’s see you replace the cylinder.”
She scowled, but had to admit it would be an important task. She reached down to her gun belt, on which was a small pouch that held the other four of Silver Lining’s cylinders. Fumbling with the buttons holding the pouch closed, she started to set her gun aside to use both hands.
The motion was stopped by Cranky grabbing her wrist. “No. One hand. You gotta learn to do this fast and in a gunfight.”
Rarity tried to pull her arm away, but he held it in a firm grip. Sniffing, she glared at him. “That doesn’t sound plausible.”
If anything, his grip tightened. “You’ll make it plausible if you wanna live past your next fight.”
Grinding her teeth, she refocused her attention on the pouch. It took a lot of fumbling, but at last the buttons snapped loose. She looked to the gun in her hand, then at Cranky. “And how am I supposed to reload if you’re holding me like that?”
He raised an eyebrow. “You’ve got a horn, don’t you?”
Heat rose in her cheeks. She found herself unable to meet his gaze for a moment. The truth was that she hadn’t wanted to use her horn to handle the gun at all. Her hands were one thing. Somehow, handling Silver Lining with her magic seemed like inviting a pollution into her soul.
And so she hesitated, and hesitated some more. And then… she hesitated even more. Her innards churned as she considered the action, but at last she enveloped the weapon in her aura. It floated from her hand into the air, and with but a little extra focus she had flipped the small lever that locked the cylinder into place. It popped out easily enough, and she used her free hand to slide a new one in. It was almost disturbingly easy, like sharpening a knife before butchering some innocent pig. The nearly inaudible click of the lever falling back into place might as well have been the poor creature’s last, ineffectual kick.
Cranky had been watching her face with a peering gaze. He sighed and let go of her wrist. “You weren’t made for this, Miss Belle. You shouldn’t be going out there.”
Carefully setting the gun to its holster, she found she couldn’t meet his eyes. “I won’t let you talk me out of this.”
“Won’t you at least let me escort you or something?”
He tried to maintain his typically hard expression, but for the first time since she’d known him, it cracked. It was only a fleeting thing, repaired as soon as it occurred, but Rarity didn’t miss it: the worry in his eyes. The sight pushed daggers into her heart. Everypony knew Cranky cared about the citizens of this town, but for him to finally show it? She couldn’t imagine what must be going through his mind.
But she beat back her compulsions and looked away. “And how far would you take me? When would you be satisfied? At what point would you decide that it’s safe for me to go it alone? No, Cranky. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your offer, but you joining me would go against the entire reason I’m leaving. This town needs you.”
“More than you do? I can’t defend a whole town.” He set his hands to his hips and glared at the ground. “Now’s not the time to be selfless.”
“There’s never been a better time,” Rarity countered. What did he want her to do, admit to being scared? Surely she didn’t have to. If only he knew how desperately she wanted him to come. Yet she refused herself this one comfort. “What makes me any more deserving of your help than Coco, or Crème Brûlée, or Mr. Gold?”
He stared at her for a moment as if she were speaking in Prench, lips settled in a deep frown. She crossed her arms and returned his gaze, determined not to budge.
Cranky closed his eyes and rubbed his temple with his thumb and forefinger. “By the stars, you two are so alike.”
She blinked. “Us two?”
“The Shrouding Midnight and you.”
He turned to approach the target, leaving her in a state of mild shock. Absentmindedly, she pulled Silver Lining from its holster and studied the weapon. It shimmered in the sunlight as if it were newly crafted. As disturbing as it was, she had to admit that the weapon felt comfortable in her hand. Had the Shrouding Midnight entertained doubts like hers? The legendary drifter, sixth member of the Rainbow Gang. It was hard to imagine that such a deadly gunfighter would share the same displeasure of killing as her.
“Sweet Sisters!”
“What?” Rarity looked up. Cranky was kneeling before the target, rubbing his hand along the surface of it. At the sight, her stomach twisted into knots. “Oh, please tell me I at least hit once.”
“Once? You hit ‘em all!”
“What?” she blurted a second time. She hurried to him, shoving the gun into its holster as she did. He stepped aside and pointed to five neat bullet holes, all within the two smallest circles of the target. One was a bullseye. She gaped at the sight, incapable of forming words.
Cranky peered at her. “You sure you’ve never used a gun before last night?”
The sun barely peeked over the hills to the west. Rarity stood under the awning of the most eastward building in the town, her heart thudding against her chest as she watched the celestial orb descend. When the last of its light faded, she would be on her way. If only she could be certain she’d see it again.
She’d toured the town. Said her goodbyes. Some ponies cried for her. A few wanted to offer her gifts, but she politely turned down half of them; she didn’t have an enchanted Featherweight pack, and it wouldn’t do to weigh herself down. Even so, the outpouring of affection the citizens of little Spurhoof showed her had almost brought her to tears. Six years… It almost felt as though she were leaving home all over again.
Would she even have a home after tonight?
She would be a drifter, at least for a while. She’d always looked down on them. Rubes, ruffians, uncultured and uncouth swine. Now she’d be out there with them. Could a diamond become a rock? She dearly hoped not. She shifted the backpack donated to her by Hammerhead, the town blacksmith. It had many of the necessities; enough food for a couple weeks if she was conservative, water for twice as long, and a small collection of gemstones Mr. Gold had generously donated to her – without deducting it from her account. Tied to it was a bedroll gifted to her by the Squash family, and there were a handful of other small items and tools she’d have never thought of but others had eagerly provided.
Spurhoof had given her a warm welcome, but its goodbye was more so. And to think, it would all go to waste if she didn’t survive the night.
This in mind, she wrapped her fingers around Silver Lining, rubbing at a tiny nub she’d noticed during practice. Cranky had given her more rounds than she imagined she’d ever need. The weapon could hardly be called ‘her’ gun. Once she found a place to settle, she’d put it away and hopefully never have to look at it again. Then again, it was a work of art, wasn’t it? Like any painting or tapestry, only more practical. More… lethal. Perhaps it would be better to donate it to a museum. She idly wondered what the Shrouding Midnight would have wanted.
Being so wrapped up in her thoughts, Rarity didn’t notice the approaching sand lizard until it was almost in her face. When awareness did dawn upon her, she barely managed to avoid a yelp. The amber-coated creature sniffed at her, then bumped her shoulder with its snout. She couldn’t resist a grin, and promptly reached up to rub its neck with both hands. “Piecazzo. Come to see me off?”
Cranky stepped up from the creature’s side, its reins in hand. “Not exactly.”
Coco appeared from the other side of Piecazzo. “H-hey, Miss Belle.”
“You two…” Rarity sighed, but couldn’t resist a smile. “I was supposed to disappear into the night. You know, like in all the romance novels, with nopony having seen me fade into the sunset?”
“No, you’re supposed to wait for the caravan.” Coco’s hands wandered about her skirt as if she didn’t know what to do with them. “B-but you’re going to be stubborn, so I guess I have to stand here and watch you leave. It’s not fair.”
Cranky’s scowl seemed to have grown deeper since last Rarity had seen him, if such a thing were possible. “I’ve half a mind to tie you up and throw you in the jailhouse until the wagon train shows up. Why do city mares all have to be so difficult?”
He likely had no idea how his comment brought forth the terrible realization she’d never achieve such a status as ‘city girl’ ever again. Manehattan was well known to be where the Apple Family managed the business end of its existence, and she’d likely never get to return to Mooisville now. Then again, there was Seaddle or Hoofington, but could she really risk going to such places? No, her dreams of landing among the cultured elite were gone, and the realization struck her like a hammer and left her reeling.
Coco took a step forward, reaching up as if to steady her former boss. “Are you okay?”
Rarity batted her hand away gently. “I’ll be fine, Darling. J-just fine.” It was only a lifelong dream. She’d get over it.
Maybe. Someday.
If Cranky thought anything of her moment of weakness, he gave no indication of it. “Any clue where you’re gonna to go?”
“South,” she replied quickly. “Maybe they won’t expect it.”
“Hmm…” He scratched his chin, gaze going to the sunset. “Lots of empty land down there. Great Salt Plains, the Dragon’s Teeth, the Scorched Plains. Whole lot of nothing.”
“M-maybe you could go to Mareami.” Coco’s face scrunched up as she said the name. “Not the most pleasant place to live, or so they say.”
“Which may make it the best place for me, but I don’t know.” In truth, Rarity already knew exactly where she intended to go. She would say nothing more on the matter, however; the less they knew, the less reason for the Bad Apple Gang to squeeze them for information.
Seeking to divert the conversation away from herself, she gave Coco a smile. “And what about you? I trust you’ll be heading to Moosiville at the first opportunity.”
The young mare’s face twisted into an expression of anguish. “But I don’t want to leave! To abandon the shop – your shop? It’s like… like throwing away all your hard work.”
With a groan, Rarity turned to Cranky. “You have my permission to hogtie her and store her on the wagons as cargo.”
“W-what?”
The corner of Cranky’s lip might have twitched upwards, but she could have imagined it. “So I can force her but not you?”
“Exactly.” She couldn’t resist a smirk at Coco’s expense as the mare sputtered, her face as red as the ever-looming sunset. Rarity had minutes at most. Closing her eyes, she took a few slow, deep breaths. “I… I guess this is goodbye.”
“Not yet it ain’t. Here.” She felt Cranky shove something in her hands, something with the texture of leather. Blinking her eyes open, she looked down and gasped at the sight of reins. Slowly, she followed them up to Piecazzo’s bridle. The massive lizard cocked his head at her, as if he found the sight of the reins in her hands strange.
“Stop!” Cranky’s finger was in her face before she could open her mouth. “Once. Just once, say ‘yes.’”
She stammered, eyes shifting frantically from the reins to the lizard to Coco to Cranky. “But… But you’ve been riding Piecazzo since the day we met. Six years, Cranky.”
“Nine, actually.” He reached up to scratch under one of Piecazzo’s frills. The Dust Devil tilted his head towards the motion, eyelids half-closing as it trilled. “He’s not the fastest out there, but he’s better than moving on hoof. Besides, he’ll mope when he finds out you’ve gone.” He looked to her with the same stoic manner as always. “You know how to ride, right?”
Clutching the reins to her chest, she gave the tiniest of nods. “Y-yes. But Cranky, you’ve already given me Silver Lining and… and taught me how to shoot and I just can’t take Piecazzo from you too.”
Coco stepped forward and set a hand to Rarity’s shoulder. “The outlaws out there have sand lizards too. You’ll need one if you don’t want to be run down the moment you’re out of sight of Spurhoof.”
Chewing her lip, Rarity bowed her head. What Coco said was most certainly true. Yet there had to be a dozen lizards in town she could have used for this purpose. Why Cranky’s? Generosity was one thing, but this…
Piecazzo gently bumped her head with his snout, trilling softly. She didn’t respond, so he did it again before resting his chin on her shoulder, just heavy enough to be impossible to ignore. Sighing, she rubbed the ridge of his snout. “You’re not helping, Piecazzo,” she grumbled. The lizard snorted. She likened the sound to a laugh.
Cranky stepped back and crossed his arms. “Come on, just take him. You need him more than I do.”
Was it just her, or was there a bit of moisture in his eyes? Rarity decided not to address the topic out loud, instead focusing on petting Piecazzo. She cast a glance at Coco. “Please tell me you didn’t come out here intending to give me something as well.”
“Oh!” Coco shook her head as her cheeks glowed. “N-no, I just wanted to see you off. And…” She put her hands behind her back and stared at the ground. “And to thank you. Y’know, for teaching me, and letting me stay, a-and just being the best teacher a mare could hope for.”
That brought a smile to Rarity’s lips. “And thank you for being a wonderful student. I have every faith in you. I wouldn’t have given you a third of my worth otherwise.”
Coco’s head shot up, eyes as wide as saucers. “A th-third?”
She nodded. “Go be a fashionista, Coco. It’s what you were born to do.”
Tears were already streaming down Coco’s cheeks. Her mouth opened and closed over and over again, and Rarity wasn’t sure if she intended to hug her or argue with her. At last she chose the former, jumping forward to engulf Rarity in a breathtaking embrace. “I’ll m-make you proud, Miss Belle. It won’t go to waste, I p-promise.”
Rarity returned the hug, her smile making her cheeks ache and her heart feeling about ready to burst. “So you’ll go to Mooisville?” The young mare nodded against her shoulder. “Good. I’d worry about you otherwise.”
They remained that way for some time. Rarity took comfort in Coco’s presence, dreading the coming separation. Was this the last moment of companionship she’d ever know? She might spend the rest of her days wandering. No friends, only enemies. What a terrible thought. She squeezed Coco a little tighter, wishing for the moment to last forever.
And then the last light of day faded. Fighting back the burning in her eyes, Rarity forced herself to back away. Her movements were stiff, as if her very body disapproved of their separation. “I… I need to go.”
Coco stared at her, sniffling and trying to maintain eye contact. It didn’t last. She turned and pressed her face into Cranky’s shoulder, sobbing quietly. Cranky’s eyebrows rose, and he gave Rarity an uncharacteristically befuddled look before carefully raising a hand up to pat the young mare’s shoulder. Coco only pressed harder against him, which in turn made him appear even more lost.
The sight might have amused Rarity were it not for the ordeal before her. She looked to him with what she hoped was a firm expression. “You’ll keep her safe, won’t you?”
The uncertainty disappeared in an instant. He nodded solemnly. “You have my word. By Luna’s stars.”
She heaved a relieved sigh, only to glance up at Piecazzo. “And… you’re sure about him?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Would you just go already, before I really do tie you up and make you wait for the wagons?”
“Well, all right.” Walking along Piecazzo’s side, she carefully set her newly booted hoof into the stirrup. Climbing onto the beast clumsily, she wondered if she shouldn’t have taken a few riding lessons along with her shooting ones. She might have known the basics, but it had been years since she’d been on the back of a sand lizard, and then only for recreation. Once properly settled, she looked at the town. It was quiet and unassuming, seemingly deserted in the night.
Her heart felt so heavy. She wondered if it might be burdening Piecazzo. If so, the Dust Devil took it like a champion. He tilted his head back to eye her, as if in judgement of the pony now riding him.
It seemed like something else should be said. Rarity looked to Cranky and Coco, the latter peeking up at her from the former’s shoulder, and opened her mouth. A moment passed, but nothing would come. The burning ache in her heart threatened to bring back that same burn to her eyes, but she just couldn’t voice her feelings on the matter. In the end, she settled for a quiet “Goodbye” before lightly whipping the reins.
As Piecazzo settled into a slow walk, Cranky let Coco go and stepped forward. “You expect to get away like that? H’ya!” He smacked Piecazzo’s flank and the beast promptly broke into a sprint, Rarity yelping and gripping the saddle horn for dear life. She wanted to scream some unladylike profanity at him. Only a fear of biting her tongue kept her from doing so.
For not being the ‘fastest out there,’ Piecazzo made incredible time. It seemed like only seconds passed before Rarity found herself in the barren, rocky hills that surrounded Spurhoof. She looked over her shoulder just in time to see the small town disappear behind the last rise. It hardly seemed like she’d travelled that far.
She let Piecazzo run for a while, mostly because the unexpected thrill of the ride kept her from thinking about other things. If she thought, she would begin second-guessing herself, and she couldn’t afford to do that. Instead, she concentrated on staying centered atop her new steed as he weaved about boulders and over small hills, gradually recalling the rides she’d taken as a child when her father brought her to a friend’s ranch. She found it easy to recall, and each jarring motion reminded her of the little things required to smooth out the ride.
But she couldn’t run Piecazzo like this forever, and after an indeterminate amount of time she tugged on the reins to slow him down. Piecazzo breathed heavily, steam billowing from his nostrils as he dropped to an easy canter. Rarity leaned down to rub his neck, feeling the heat radiating from his scaled body.
“I guess it’s just you and me now. I suppose a lady with a noble steed could be in fashion.”
Piecazzo merely snorted and continued walking.
She sniffed in turn and raised her muzzle. “Well, you never know, it could be that way.”
The moon shone brightly, waxing but close enough to full to provide her with plenty to see by. She quietly thanked Princess Luna for the blessing this night. If she did have to travel out here… alone… then she’d prefer to be able to see. See…
A sinking sensation filled her, and she began glancing about warily. If she could see, so could anypony else. Perhaps it would be best to avoid casual chatter for now, even if it did make things seem drearily lonesome. Normally she and Coco would be sitting down in the lounge right about now, ready to talk about their respective days.
Her ears folded back. No good thinking about things like that, Rarity. What’s done is done. Coco will just have to find somepony else to entertain her at night. And herself? She eyed the frills on the back of Piecazzo’s head and neck. Not much conversation to be had there.
She tried not to think. About Coco or Cranky or her lounge chair or her dresses or the shop or… or her bed. That last one brought a long yawn to her lips, and she realized she was sagging in a most unladylike pose. Only now did she take note of how little sleep she’d had since she’d shot…
Braeburn.
Don’t think about it, Rarity.
She made every effort she could to force him from her mind, provided that effort made as little noise as possible. That little self-stipulation proved her doom. With no means of distracting herself, she inevitably ran circles back to her horrid deed last night. Her weariness didn’t help matters.
Falling asleep wasn’t an option. Braeburn’s posse was still out there, and she couldn’t assume they were just watching the town. They could be seeking her out. Perhaps they saw her leave Spurhoof. She had to get as far away from the town as possible before taking her rest. She reached back, intent on grabbing some water. Perhaps if she splashed her eyes with just a little—
She heard a zip. An instant later, it was followed by a bang. It took only a second to recognize what the combination meant, and another for her to crack the reins. “Go, go, go!”
Piecazzo lurched into another sprint, and Rarity barely managed to hold on. Another zip and bang filled her ears. She looked back to see three riders charging down a nearby hill, the shots from their sidearms creating bright flashes in the night.
Her breath found a wall in her throat as she raced over the next hill and into a valley, the gun-toting outlaws not far behind. This was all wrong! They weren’t supposed to find her so quickly. Yes, they were going to find her, but now? She was hardly prepared! She ducked on instinct as a few more cracks of gunfire filled her ears.
“By the Sisters, Piecazzo, what do I do?” She leaned forward over her steed’s back, barely remembering the proper position for riding at speed.
Her pursuers whooped and laughed, the sound just audible over the rush of wind. Rarity ground her teeth, unable to think about much aside from how she didn’t want to die. No attempt was made to guide Piecazzo, and the Dust Devil chose his path purely on instinct. Rarity was, in every sense of the phrase, along for the ride. Her body weaved along with his sudden movements, fighting to stay over the center of the saddle as more shots rang through the night.
“Hey, dollface!”
Rarity looked to her left in time to see a white earth pony riding alongside her on a reddish-brown Dust Devil of his own. He grinned as he aimed a rifle at her, resting the barrel on his arm to keep it steady.
Ice filled her every vein as Rarity jerked back on the reins, forcing Piecazzo to slow just as a deafening blast erupted from the rifle. The stallion cursed and zoomed ahead, but Rarity had no time to relax as more shots came from behind her. She whipped Piecazzo into motion, steering him left to hurry up a hill. She could only pray the new path would confuse the stallion now ahead of her.
Hoping to catch a glimpse of her other attackers, she looked left and screamed as a light-pink mare – another earth pony – charged from terrifyingly close! The mare had a very different type of lizard, one with a longer snout, thinner frills, and leathery wings. She grinned like a pony possessed, eyes alight with what Rarity could only consider disturbing amounts of joy as her mount leapt, reaching forward with wicked talons that looked as though they could rip Piecazzo to shreds.
The claws flashed in the moonlight as Rarity ducked, and she swore she felt the wind of them passing overhead. The beast landed atop Piecazzo’s back haunches, but the impact only made him slide sideways a little before he was back at full speed and slipping over the crest of the hill. Rarity glanced back, her heart beating a hole in her chest.
She’s got a Leaper. Luna help us! More shots rang out, but they descended to the other side of the hill before any bullets could reach their mark.
It was only then that Rarity remembered Silver Lining. All self-righteous arguments disappeared from her mind as she reached down to tug on the weapon, but it refused to budge. “Oh, come on!” The Bad Apples were already cresting the hill and she was having a wardrobe malfunction?
It took precious seconds and several more tugs before she remembered the safety strap on the gun. She snapped it open and jerked the gun out just as the third member of the posse pulled up on her right.
Tacky overalls, ugly beard. Piles. He trained his pistol on her, eyes alight with his fury. “This is for the boss, you—”
It all happened so fast, and yet so slowly. No time to aim, no time to consider her actions. Rarity just pointed Silver Lining and pulled the trigger. Piles’ sneer, a moment ago oh-so clear in the moonlight, became a glistening splash of red. His gun jerked aside and fired, the flash a blinding glare that illuminated him as he tumbled backwards off his steed. Rarity barely registered Piecazzo’s hiss, her wide eyes set upon the now empty back of the grey sand lizard Piles had been riding.
Had been.
Oh, Celestia, I’ve done it again.
The spell ended with a scream that wasn’t her own and more gunshots from behind. Fighting the burning tears in her eyes, Rarity forced herself to face forward and whipped the reins, prompting Piecazzo to pick up speed. “I’m sorry. Oh, Sisters, I’m sorry!”
As they sprinted through another valley, Rarity blinked the tears away and forced herself to look back. The white stallion was trailing. No sign of the mare and her Leaper. That was fine by her. She’d rather deal with one than—
The scream smashed into her thoughts and forced her to look up. All she saw were talons and scales as the Leaper launched from the slope of a nearby hill, its wings spreading wide and its deadly claws outstretched once more. With time only to react, Rarity aimed with no hope of escaping this time. Silver Lining fired once. There came another splash of blood on the creature’s wing, but it was too little and far too late. Rarity braced herself to meet those claws.
Then, in a display of agility she never would have expected from a creature of such size, Piecazzo jerked sideways to slide across the earth. He slowed down just enough for the Leaper to land harmlessly ahead of them before the two lizards smashed into one another. Rarity and the pink mare had enough time to gape at one another in mutual shock before Piecazzo bit down on the Leaper’s neck with an audible crunch.
“No!” The mare aimed a shotgun for Piecazzo’s head.
Once more, Rarity reacted, leaping off Piecazzo and slamming directly into the mare. The two tumbled off the thrashing lizards and crashed into the ground with enough force that Rarity’s breath whooshed from her lungs. Gasping and cradling her stomach, she barely noticed how she’d lost Silver Lining in the motion. In a strange moment of breathless clarity, she realized it might have been better to open fire on the mare instead of resorting to her nonexistent brute strength.
Something grabbed Rarity by the shoulder. Unable to resist in her breathless state, she allowed herself to be rolled over. She looked up at the pink mare, whose teeth were bared in a snarl. She stood up, shotgun aimed at the ground, and glared venom at Rarity for a few seconds. “You killed my Brady.”
She cocked her weapon.
“You killed Piles.”
The barrel of the shotgun pressed against Rarity’s forehead. She tried to speak, to move, to do anything!
“I should make this slow,” the mare hissed. “But I’d rather just kill you and be done with it.”
This was it. She’d not been gone an hour, and already Rarity was going to die. The thought left her feeling… empty. There was so much she’d wanted to do. She’d wasted Coco’s faith, Cranky’s gifts, an entire town’s blessings. She could have been in Moosiville all this time, enjoying the company of her parents and sister. But no, she’d had to make a name for herself in the big city, and now…
What a waste of a life.
The hit came with such speed that Rarity yelped, anticipating pain. The mare disappeared in a flash of scales, her shotgun sent flying. It took a couple seconds for Rarity to realize that she was not, in fact, dead.
She jerked into a sitting position, gaping at the sight of Piecazzo and the Leaper locked in deadly combat. Horrible gashes seeped blood from Piecazzo’s sides and back, but the Leaper appeared to be faring little better as bite marks covered its shoulders and neck. Even as Rarity watched, the slightly smaller Dust Devil capitalized on a missed swipe of the creature’s claws to bite at its throat.
The two beasts rocked back and forth before tumbling towards her, and Rarity scrambled to get out of the way lest she be crushed. She tripped and fell to her hands and knees, gasping and sobbing at the combined relief of escaping death and the awareness that her life was still very much in jeopardy. She crawled away, searching frantically for Silver Lining. “What was I thinking? What was I thinking? Oh, Luna, what was I thinking?”
She came upon a leg lying lifeless in the dirt. Breath catching in her throat, she slowly followed it up. There lay the mare, seated where she’d landed amongst the rocks at the foot of a hill. Rarity stared, paralyzed, watching for any sign of life. When she at last noticed the mare’s chest rising and falling, she let out a strangled gasp; only unconscious. At least one pony wouldn’t die tonight because of her.
She turned away, eyes scanning the hills, and paused. Silver Lining lay in the dirt close to where the two lizards continued their battle. Her first thought was to run to it. Her second was a reminder that if she got too close to Piecazzo and the Leaper she’d probably get killed by proximity. But if she didn’t, and Piecazzo was killed—
The ground at her hooves cracked and dust flew high. Rarity spun to find the last Bad Apple, the white stallion, riding his dust devil in a charge directly for her, rifle cracking shots as fast as he could reload rounds.
Cursing under her breath, Rarity took the only option that might give her a chance to survive and ran for Silver Lining with all the energy she had left. Piecazzo and his opponent danced around one another, a blur of claws and teeth and scales, kicking up so much dust that the area around them became shrouded. Legs pumping, heart throbbing, lungs burning, Rarity charged through the storm of sand. She could hear the lizards’ frenzied hissing, loud like steam from a boiler, but wasted no time looking to the fight. If she didn’t keep her attention focused on the gun, she might lose it in the dust cloud.
More shots fired as she leapt, landing atop the gun and snatching it up. With not a second to lose, she climbed back to her hooves and resumed running, desperate to get away from the warring beasts before she became collateral damage. She glanced to her right in time to see a tail slicing through the air low to the ground. She leapt, but not fast enough to keep it from clipping her boots. The impact made her go horizontal and she hit the ground hard.
Pain lanced up her side, but Rarity’s adrenaline was pumping and her mind too frantic to worry about the damage. She forced herself to stand on tired legs and turned to the embattled sand lizards, intent upon finishing Piecazzo’s fight… somehow. But as she took in the carnage, the blur of claws and teeth and blood, she realized she couldn’t trust herself to take a shot. The risk of hitting Piecazzo was just too high. She aimed Silver Lining regardless, struggling to see through the dust. “Come on… come on… Please, Piecazz—oh!”
The white stallion appeared on the hillside behind the battle, riding his own sand lizard wide around the two combatants. He finished loading his rifle and took aim her way.
Cursing, Rarity broke into a run for the hills on her right, hoping to keep Piecazzo and his opponent between her and the riflepony. She couldn’t do a thing for Piecazzo while that brute was still after her! She scrambled up a steep cliff, hoping it would prove a deterrent for the rider. A rock just above her left shoulder shattered, spraying her with bits of grit, but she didn’t dare look back.
The climb seemed to take forever, and the riflepony missed another two times before she got to the top. How could he be such a bad aim? She couldn’t possibly be that hard of a target. She looked over her shoulder and felt her breath hitch. The riflepony was going around the cliff and up the smoother slope! Why hadn’t she expected that?
Running for all she was worth, heaving with exhaustion, she descended the other side of the hill. Rocks dotted the landscape, but it was all more of the same thing she’d just seen and none of it would work for a hiding place. Her luck had run out, she just knew it. “Come on, Rarity, think. Think, think, think!”
A furious cry shattered the night air. She turned to find the rider barreling towards her on his lizard, which suddenly seemed so much bigger than she’d remembered. It opened its mouth wide, revealing thick fangs.
“Luna guide me!” Rarity turned and opened fire once, twice, three times. Then she heard nothing but clicking.
But Silver Lining did its job. Three new holes appeared in the sand lizard’s face, and it promptly fell chest-first into the rocky ground mere feet from where she stood. The rider cried out, his eyes wide and his gun flying into the darkness as he was thrown from the saddle.
Rarity had no time to dodge. The rider flew into her and the two tumbled to the ground in a tangle. Before she even knew what was happening, the stallion had her on her back. His fist connected with her face, slamming her head back into the ground. He struck a second and third time before she registered the need to defend herself. Though lights flashed in her vision, she at last responded, cracking him across the temple with the butt of Silver Lining.
The blow didn’t seem to bother him at all. He used his elbow to pin her arm down, then wrapped his other hand around her throat and squeezed. As she choked and fought to breathe, he leaned down to look into her eyes. His own pale blues were alight with hatred as he hissed, “The boss always said ponies should know their killer’s name. Mine’s Double Diamond, and I’m going to enjoy every second of this.”
Rarity scratched at him with her free hand, but nothing she did could dislodge him. Already her lungs were burning. At that moment she would have begged for release, but not a sliver of air could escape her throat. She looked about frantically, desperate for something, anything to help her get away. Her chest heaved, her heart pounded.
Not now. Not yet! I can’t die here!
Her eyes rolled back, and then she saw her horn.
Oh, Sisters, I am stupid.
Through the thickness growing in her skull, she reached for her magic, picturing the spell in her mind. Indigo for force, Blue for energy. Lots of Blue. She began to cast. Her horn flickered for an instant before shining bright blue in her fuzzy vision. Double Diamond’s eyes widened and he released her arm, reaching back in preparation for another blow. Before he could follow through, a rock flew from the ground and shattered against the side of his head with enough force to send him sprawling.
As exhilarating as it was to have air pouring into her lungs, Rarity knew she couldn’t afford to enjoy it. She fumbled with the pouch at her side, barely remembering to snap off the button sealing it, and pulled out a fresh cylinder for Silver Lining. She sat up, fumbling with the gun’s locking lever, gasping for air. Her eyes darted between the rapidly recovering stallion and the gun, the latter of which stubbornly refused to work with her trembling hands. “C-come on, please, come on!”
Double Diamond roared as he rose, a rock in hand. He flung himself at her, only to stumble back when the cylinder Rarity had been holding smashed into his open mouth. Blood and teeth flew as the lever finally came loose. The empty cylinder slipped out… and only then did Rarity realize her mistake. Cursing, she lost precious seconds reaching into her pouch for another cylinder.
The stallion slammed into her, bringing her to the ground once more and knocking the gun from her hands. Screaming, Rarity fended off his blows by grabbing his wrists. They struggled against one another, him trying to grab her throat again and her fighting to keep him at bay.
“Why the buck won’t you die?” His scream sprayed saliva in her face as his fingers inched closer. Gritting her teeth, Rarity focused on splitting her attention in two directions. Blue and Indigo again. More care, more detail. Just like a needle and thread. If she could stay alive for just a little longer…
His hands wrapped about her throat, and no amount of pushing and clawing could dislodge them. “I’ll see you in Tartarus, bitch!”
The barrel of Silver Lining pressed against his temple. He had just enough time for his eyes to widen in realization before she pulled the trigger with her magic. The opposite side of his head burst open in an explosion of bone and gore. He collapsed on top of her, face locked in that gaping, shocked expression.
Rarity scrambled out from under him, barely getting to her knees before her lunch spilled out on the rocks. She crawled away from her own mess, sobbing and shaking all over, before finally rolling over to collapse on her back. Her chest moved with a spasmodic rhythm in a desperate battle to get some air back into her lungs, and in the back of her mind she knew she was hyperventilating.
As she stared up at the moonlight sky, her mind and body gradually calmed in the face of exhaustion. Her breathing normalized, her heart’s hummingbird pace slowed, and the cloud of near panic faded. She didn’t think, didn’t move, only stared. When she finally closed her eyes, recent images repeated against the back of her eyelids: Piles’ face disappearing in a red splatter, the mare sent flying by an errant tail, Double Diamond’s skull spraying the hot air. Teeth and fangs and flashes and screams.
Fresh tears built up in the corner of her eyes before creating rivers down her cheekbones. The words came unbidden, barely a whisper. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to. I’m s-so sorry. Luna. Celestia. F-forgive me, but I don’t want to die.” It seemed the royal princesses had no interest in returning from exile just to comment on the matter.
So Rarity simply lay there, quietly weeping and wishing she was back in Mooisville, safe with her parents in a boring, uninteresting life. Maybe with some drab stallion and a foal or two. It would be so dull, but it would have been better than knowing what she’d just become for the sake of surviving. As desperately hard as it had been… it had been so hideously easy. She was alive.
Two more ponies were dead. Was her life worth theirs? The answer eluded her, and so she stared up at the moon and prayed.
It was some time before she heard the shuffling, dragging steps. For a moment she wondered if it might be that mare, come to exact the cost. If it was, Rarity wasn’t sure she had the will to fight. Then she heard a feeble trill, and something bumped the side of her head. Slowly, in a daze, she turned it to gaze upon a familiar, scaled face.
Her heart returned to her throat. “P-P-Piecazzo?”
The sand lizard gave another of its weak calls and nudged her once more, staining her face with sticky blood. Though her body protested, Rarity forced herself to sit up and turn to the creature. What she saw made her heart sink into a dark place she thought it might never return from.
Piecazzo was covered in deep gashes, many of which were caked with dirt and grit. He was missing one eye from a hideous gouge in his face and his hide dangled like some grotesque curtain. She leaned over to examine the rest of him and whimpered at the sight of one of his legs torn off at the knee. Not a single wound had stopped bleeding, creating a trail over the hill that shimmered in the moonlight.
The great lizard, his legs shaking with effort, slowly dropped to his belly and rested his chin in her lap. His body heaved with slow, shuddering breaths and he gave another quiet trill. He stared balefully up at her with his remaining eye. It was a window into unspoken agony, and yet she saw something else that made it hurt far worse: concern.
She wanted to say something, but a lump in her throat kept her voice in check. Slowly, she reached down to scratch under his frills, tears dripping from her cheeks as he closed his eye and hummed. She didn’t need anypony else to tell her what would happen next. She thought of Cranky and how long he’d had Piecazzo. Her lip quavered.
At last, the words escaped her throat. “Th-thank you, Piecazzo. You’ve been such a noble c-creature. I’m sorry that I brought you to this.”
Yes… it was her fault, wasn’t it? If she hadn’t killed Braeburn—
The Dust Devil made a whimpering sound, interrupting her moment of self-loathing. She sighed and continued to pet and scratch him, not bothering to fret over her tears. She stared at the blood dripping off his face and into her lap. “Oh, if only I could do something for you.” Unwilling to stare at the wounded lizard any longer, she turned her face away. Her eyes landed on Silver Lining lying at her side.
Her heart found its way out of that deep dark hole in her chest and slammed itself into her throat yet again. The idea swirled about in her head, terrible and unthinkable, and yet she thought about it all the same. She’d heard of this kind of thing, known it was a common practice. But Piecazzo…
Perhaps she could get to town. Then something could be done! If she hurried, maybe Cranky would—
Piecazzo pressed his uninjured cheek to her stomach and make another of those soft coos. Such a quiet, calm sound. She looked down to find him staring up at her again with that one good eye. A creature could say so much without a voice, even with only half a face, and Piecazzo’s message was clear.
Rarity closed her eyes and held her head high. Dear Sisters. Celestia and Luna, give me the strength to live this new life.
The gun was in her hand. Sucking down slow breaths, she shifted so she could wrap her arm around Piecazzo’s neck, gently scratching under his chin as she did. “It’s a-all right. It’s all right, Piecazzo. I p-promise.”
Piecazzo whimpered as the barrel pressed against his forehead.
Rarity chewed her lip and fought to keep her breathing steady. Her gaze, blurry and burning, landed on the pale orb in the night sky. Though her throat burned, she managed to force out some hoarse words. “Princess Luna, you’ll l-let him stay by your side in the Exalted Stars, won’t you? I t-think he’s earned it. I… I really do.”
She waited for an answer. None came. She waited longer, silently begging for something, anything to happen other than…
A trill. A gunshot.
Rarity’s sobs filled the night air beneath an ever-gazing moon.
The World of Bulletproof Heart
Map of BPH’s Equestria
The map below was created by myself using the Campaign Cartographer program. It’s pretty rough and not properly to scale, which is entirely because I’ve never made a map before, but I used it frequently when writing this story to give me an idea of distances, directions, and other general uses. You’ll have to expand it to its full size to really see the smaller details, so sorry about that. I recommend viewing it at the source. With each chapter I intend to add a new version that shows Rarity’s path through the story, adding new landmarks as I do.
No, this map isn’t even close to the official one for the show. That was on purpose. I wanted this Equestria to be truly unique, so I made this map up without referencing the canon one.
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Oh sweet jesus, them action scenes!
Plus, you're already tearing at my heartstrings by killing off Piecasso.
Generosity begets generosity. Is Rarity really so surprised the town she gave so much to gives so much back in return?
I do love the incidental bits of world building, like the razing of Ponyville. That said, what do the good Apples expect people to do when faced with the bad ones? Lay down and die? Family's one thing, but self-defense is another.
I'm not surprised by Rarity's natural accuracy. If nothing else, she is precise. Though she could stand to remember she has telekinesis a bit more often. Ponies rarely expect the Littlepip Special.
Piecazzo might not have been Spike, but I do like how Rarity often finds herself in the company of noble reptiles. Still, now she's on her own in a cruel and arid world. We'll see what she does from here, and how much of the best little seamstress in Spurhoof remains by the end of it.
This is, frankly, really good. Your pacing and storytelling are very smooth and exciting. There are the old tropes of course--lady is somehow a trick-shot the first time she uses a gun, for instance--but that doesn't detract from this exciting western adventure. Miss Belle is real and fleshed out enough that she doesn't feel like a Mary Sue but the kind-hearted, yet extremely capable, mare we love her best portrayals for. I am eager to see what you put her through in future episodes!
Also, congratulations. I haven't so much as touched an anthro fic since I became a brony in 2012, but you hooked me with this one haha.
Huh! Crazy AU you've got going here. Of course, it seems to be fairly well thought out, which puts it ahead of most other AU's. Plus, I'm a sucker for a good western and
there's the faintest possibility of Rarijack.Though I will note a western without horses (or, uh, just talking horses instead of the four legged kind) is something of an odd image to write around.
Also, not a huge fan of the rape-threat trope, either (coming from Braeburn, who seems like a nice guy in mainline canon), but thankfully you don't push it too far. I guess it's just a matter of tone-- and how I tend to stick to the lighter stuff.
But yeah, read one chapter so far, and I'm curious to see where this is going!
Ain't no rest for the wicked.
Merciful emperor...
Okay, this is becoming one of my favourite stories! Very well executed and that ending smacked me right in the feels!
9110996
It so happens this is my first anthro story since I started writing MLP fanfiction in 2013, so it's good to know I'm doing well enough for others avoiding the... uh... format? Is that the right term here? Meh, regardless, point stands.
9111218
Picking Braeburn was a very deliberate decision. I wanted to show right away that this was an entirely different Equestria from the one we know, and the best way to do that was to show how some ponies ended up very different from what we know. There will be inevitable similarities, but also inevitable (and at times significant) changes.
It took me a little time to come up with lizards instead of horses, but it made more sense than having horses ride horses, y'know?
9111750
Well then I guess it's a first for both of us haha.
I'm hoping if Rarity meets Applejack, AJ believes that "One bad apple spoils the barrel" and hates the Bad Apple gang for ruining her family name.
Not to take anything away from this story. But, you picked a very good time to write this. Since Red Dead Redemption 2 is around the corner. I know you inspired this from something else, but I also see some RDR in this too. That's just me.
9110287
Right!?
I think she is going to find a wild one to tame.
That just so happens to be a rare breed or does something unique. Not that it is a bad thing just a neat trope i am looking forward to.
Guesses on what she is going to name her new lizard?
9112599 Carousel? Diamond? Gemstone? I don't even know
9112238
Sorry, but no. You’re not the first person to ask. I thought about getting some artwork done for the sand lizards, but I just don’t have the funds for more than the cover art right now. Aside from that, their appearances vary greatly depending on which of the three types they are, from the aerodynamic Leapers, the sturdy Dust Devils, or the wagon-sized Thick Scales. Maybe by the time the sequel rolls around I’ll have scrounged up the funds to commission some proper sketches.
The good news is that eventually there’s going to be a World of Bulletproof Heart section that goes into greater detail regarding the appearance and design of the Sand Lizards.
9113019
well we have no real back story other then the sun is closer now and the sisters are now in them and Ponyville doesn't exist.
dang, she can't catch a break and lost her last connection to the town.
9112599
Opalescence?
9113952
Ha!
I would actually get behind that.
Out damned spot.
You took a single life in self defense, you are not a mass murderer.
Oh boy, exposition time!
Oh brilliant.
Oh, oh shit.
Heh.
Let's find out.
What's in the box, who gets the box, how much is what's in the box worth? Storage Wars.
Interesting...
I like this guy a LOT.
So it begins.
I like how you're portraying this, ending a life is NOT an easy thing, that sort of thing scars your mind. And for someone like Rarity, it's really affecting her.
He would.
She has a point.
The who?
Wonder if Rainbow Dash is involved in that?
Goddamn.
God I hope you're right, but you're probably horribly wrong.
Hm.
HAH!
Daaw.
HAHAHAHAHAAA!
Ah hell.
Double Diamond?
Oh, that's a smart design.
Pinkie Pie?
Starting to think that gun has some form of magic.
She's the protagonist.
Age before beauty.
Jesus, lizards are tough, but holy hell.
CHILLS.
Ok, what model of gun is silver lining. I gots ta know
9121327
A number of characters in this story will have weapons unique to them that aren't of any particular 'model' or belong to any one 'company', and that includes Rarity's. I did have to give the cover artist some 'close approximation' visual examples of what they looked like, though. For example, I don't think there even is a real-world counterpart for a revolver where the cylinder can quickly be swapped out for another; I made that feature up entirely, and if there is a revolver in the real world that does that it is only a coincidence.
I also didn't bother to create weapon-producing companies for this story, mostly because Rarity can't be expect to have such knowledge at this stage. I do intend to state such things later, but even then I'm trying to avoid using real-world variants. That may prove impossible in the long run, but we'll just have to wait and see.
The Apples razed Ponyville?! Congratulations, dear author, I now despise the Apples even more (as if I need another reason).
Uh, YES!
Getting used to killing (even if she only does it in self-defense) is clearly going to take awhile for Rarity (if she ever does get truly used to it), but the Apples are going to give her plenty of practice. I only hope they don't do something vile enough to push Rarity into going on the offensive.
9121674
Funnily enough, there were certain revolvers that could do such a thing. I know Colt made one of them, not sure about other companies though.
Yes. Yes, you are.
When Rarity ran for Silver Lining a few paragraphs ago, I wondered why she didn't think of just LEVITATING it to her. At least she eventually realized that she forgot something as simple as SHE HAS MAGIC.
But speaking about magic, I see that there's some kind of color-based system in place. I take it that the magic system here is slightly different than the mainly instinctual capability that it appears to be in canon?
9371981
I don't think the magical capabilities in canon are all that instinctual. If they were, there would be no need of spellbooks and magical education.
But yes, there's certainly a vague magical system in place. It gets described in more detail later in the story, but I'm trying to keep it in a sweet spot between 'these are the rules' and 'you don't need to know everything'.
Yup. This gun has "ze magiks"
Okay. Wow. You're really nailing the wild west wasteland vibe here.
I reserve labeling a story as "favorite" for when I actually finish reading a it, but at this rate, I'm quite sure this story will land that shelf.
I will, however, provide a thumbs up.
This story is so beautiful and fulfilling
It actually holds its hand out for the reader to enter it's world.
Also Piecazzo's death was in the same measure heartbreaking and very much needed, I'd curse you for it but there really was no other way. I shudder however, at imagining Rarity braving the desert by herself. But like they say, what matters is the journey, not the destination.
Firstly; you are tearing my Heart up a bit. Granted, it’s only chapter two.
Secondly: are the dust devils essentially giant Komodo or bearded devils? Cause that’s the image I’m seeing as you describe them.
9766388
You've got the right idea in general. The author's notes of a later chapter (not sure which one) goes into a little more detail about the lizards, so it might help. Someday I'll commission someone to draw the three creatures so that everyone can have a visual reference.
The closest real-life equivalent would be a Remington 1858, as that is one of few revolvers that had a combat-viable quick-change cylinder-
example video- https://youtu.be/M3rj89cqQQ8
The Smith and Wesson ‘Schofield’ Russian models, top break revolvers, also had a version that did the same but they were more meant for very fast cleaning. Something that would be a reasonable fluff modification to the described revolver, as you mentioned mechanisms and gears, could be some sort of double-action conversion, so only the trigger pull is needed without a seperate cocking action like most Western era weapons (like the shotgun in this chapter)
Rarity is the Shrouding Midnight reborn. If only she could assuage her conscience as easily as she kills, but then we would have nowhere for the character to go.
Rest in peace, Piecazzo.
Pew pew.
Why are the Princesses in self imposed exile?
10651865
Provided you don't neglect the author's notes, that is.
Continue reading and you'll find out.
oof that ending got me a little wet in the eyes
“Here I go killing again!”
I notice there’s a bit of a running theme of “suddenness” in these opening chapters, this one even more than the first. The tension of the threat represented by Braeburn and the gang coming into town appears and dissipates very quickly. The intrusion into Rarity’s store happens abruptly and rapidly worsens at every turn. Braeburn’s death happens at a particularly surprising moment. Rarity has to get used to the sudden jerk and flash of pulling the trigger on a gun. The quick and simple utterance of “goodbye” when Rarity leaves Cranky and Coco. The gang sets on Rarity almost immediately after she leaves from Spurhoof, signaled by a single gunshot that she narrowly avoids by blind luck. Piles, Double Diamond, Diamond’s lizard, and Piecazzo are all killed suddenly and instantly by headshots. Even Cayenne getting knocked aside by a tail swipe happens very quickly. It’s this emphasis on how small moments that come out of nowhere can have a profound, lifechanging impact.
I want to focus on the headshots in particular. There’s something extremely striking about the imagery of getting shot in the head, and the descriptions of the gory aftermath are intense. For Rarity, seeing that blink-and-you-miss-it moment in which Piles suddenly goes from leering at her to the side of his face erupting in blood, and knowing that she’s responsible for it, that’s the kind of thing that sticks with a person. It makes me think alternatingly of the moment in Akira when Kei kills a soldier, the gore shown in a very similar manner to the way I imagine this happening, leaving her shaken and speechless afterward, and of the death of Jed in House of Leaves, which is emphasized as being something which happens over the span of less than a second, only a few frames of a recorded video, and yet it’s something which a viewer can watch slowly and pick out every single excruciating detail. Similarly, even though the brawl with Double Diamond is far more protracted, culminating with him on top of her, beaten and bloodied, the two of them grappling for survival, it’s this one fatal shot which turns a person into a lifeless body, and he falls on her at the same time that the weight of her actions does.
The other thing about headshots, though, is how they’re usually associated with accuracy, so the ease with which Rarity is able to pull them out, whether she likes it or not, further serves to show how talented she is with a gun. I’ve still pondered what hidden reason there might be for how good of a shot Rarity is right out the gate. I saw some comments supposing that she was a reincarnation of the Shrouding Midnight, but I wasn’t sure about that even before it was revealed that she’s still alive, the timeline didn’t seem right for it. It could’ve been related to her having the Element of Generosity, but I think it’s said in the next chapter that she hadn’t even thought to wear it yet, and of course we see in the finale what it’s like when it’s actually fully active. I don’t think it really needs to be explained away, though; as is said somewhere, it can be seen simply as a natural extension of her eye for accuracy as a seamstress—she even raises the comparison to threading the eye of a needle at one point in this chapter. Ultimately, it doesn’t matter what the justification for it might be, the conflict of this story doesn’t revolve around Rarity needing to be a good gunslinger, it’s about her not wanting to be a gunslinger to begin with. Even then, it’s not enough for her simply to be a good shot, there are numerous other skills she needs to have in order to survive, like learning how to use her magic in combat.
I really grew to like Cranky Doodle, he’s probably one of my favorite characters in this story despite being a character I don’t think about much in canon. In some ways I feel he fits a setting like this far more than he does the actual show—which, granted, is kind of the point of his character in the show. He’s that gruff, no-nonsense, takes-no-shit kind of character, but you can tell that he really cares about everyone in the town. In coming back to these chapters, I also see how even this early on the chemistry between him and Coco is already being set up. The way he reacted to the mention of Ponyville made me briefly wonder if he had some personal backstory related to it, if he was there for Ponyville’s destruction, but much like the Rarity reincarnation theory I don’t think the timeline lines up for that—I think it’s more likely that it’s a bad memory for him because of the aftermath leading to him caring for the Shrouding Midnight. Although, one must wonder what the situation with Matilda might be…
Pour one out for Piecazzo, too pure for this sinful earth. This, I have to imagine, is the death that sticks the hardest with Rarity for most of the story. Despite everything that she did to be selfless and put all of the burden on herself, she couldn’t stop someone from giving their life for her. In effect, Rarity didn’t kill him when she put a bullet through his skull, she killed him the instant he set out alongside her. And yet, for all that, it’s as if he knows how important it is that she needs to do this. He doesn’t want her to end his suffering, he wants her to be strong even in this darkest moment.
10944208
I do, in fact, have a reasoning behind Rarity's accuracy. There are multiple little pieces that come together to make the whole, and not all of them have been referenced in this story.
I kinda of want to address the Matilda topic, but what if I end up revealing that info in a short later? I dunno, I just might someday. What I can say is that, because I knew the topic would inevitably come up, I did come up with something specific for her. It just never came up in-story.
Diamond are all well and good, but when it comes to outlaws, nothing beats a .45.
Two chapters in and I'm already hooked. Poor Rarity got swept up in events faster than I expected.
Braeburn was a good character to act as the first bad guy. It quickly shows that this world isn't the Equestria we know and nopony is safe.
Since I already read ahead, I know the story behind at least one of Rarity's guns, so her precise marksmareship doesn't bother me.
It was touching that the town took care of Rarity just as she took care of it. There's still some decent folks in the world.
I saw the death of the lizard coming (again, read ahead) but it was still tragic to see. Now Rarity truly is alone.
Moving on!