Choice

by AnOrdinaryWriter

23

You ultimately decide that the village is your best bet. You definitely will not survive another second out there.

Of course, it comes down to whether the village has water or not, but considering the figure you saw, there is likely another pony living there, which means they must have food or water to survive. Then again, maybe they’re starving and thirsty and had run out of supplies days ago. Maybe that shadowed figure isn’t a pony at all.

Whatever the case, at least you’ll know after you check it out. What’s the worst that can happen?

You walk toward the village. Most of the houses appear to be in bad condition, shingles missing and parts of the walls crumbling. What’s just occurred to you is how a village is sitting out here in the middle of nowhere. It’s almost like the crystal empire, except in the desert. Also, unless there’s some form of magic supplying food and water, you can’t see any apparent way that supplies would be imported all the way out here.

Since there is a village here, its safe to assume there was civilization here once, but why the village was built in the middle of a desert is beyond you. That makes you think that they must have some sort of system to feed everypony. Unless the story goes deeper than that.

As you enter the town, your hooves come onto a stone path that slowly emerges from the sand. The roads are cracked and dead grass peeks through them.

Wait… grass? That’s odd.

As a matter of fact, as you walk through the town, you see dead trees surrounded by patches of dead grass and flowers that have long since dried up and wilted. How could trees and plants have once survived in this climate?

You follow the road to what appears to be the town square, but the buildings in this area are also crumbling apart as though no one had been around to maintain to them in years.

You’re so focused on the town itself that you only now notice the putrid smell in the air, like somepony had left meat out for days to rot. Suddenly you find yourself cringing, wondering how you had not noticed it earlier.

That’s of course not your main concern right now. You need to find water so that this is not the last thing you ever smell.

You take a step forward and suddenly, you hear something behind you. You turn back to look, but there’s nothing there. You turn back, and suddenly, you’re faced with a dark orange stallion standing way within your personal space to the point where your noses barely touch. His sudden appearance incites you to take a step back as you examine him. The stallion’s coat is a dark orange color, his face creased with wrinkles, and his mane is grey and long, tied back and flowing across his hunched, skinny form. He holds a cane in his left hoof and eyes you with a stern glare.

“You ain’t from around here,” he speaks with a gravely, aged tone. “I would know. I hold the records for everypony in this town and there ain’t nopony with your looks on file. Tell me, outsider, and look me in the eyes when you answer,” his glare tightens as he inches his face toward yours. “Are you one of them rebels?”

You’re not sure what he means by rebels, but you shake your head. He stares into your soul for a few more moments before backing off, his glare softening. “You ain’t lyin’. I would know, I can detect lies on a whim. Its how I kept this here town safe during the invasions.” He waves a hoof to gesture to the houses and buildings around you. “But you seem like a nice feller, so I think we can become good friends. Mah name’s Crooked Straw, the town mayor. Glad to make your acquaintance!” He holds out a hoof, and you shake it. His hoof is dirty and grimy, though your hooves are dirty enough that there is no noticeable stain from it.

When you let go, he turns and faces the rest of the town. “Welcome to the town of Noneighm. Place was founded over 200 years ago by my great grandpa. At least, that’s the story my pa told me. Though, recently the town hasn’t seen many great days. ‘Specially since the attacks and, well… the disease.”

He begins leading you through the town, and as you two walk, the front doors of the houses around you begin to open and ponies step outside, old and young. However, all of them have dirty fur, like they hadn’t showered in weeks, and it seems as though many of them have not eaten much at all.

“Meet the townsfolk. Ain’t exactly a pleasant sight, I know. Don’t mind that, they’ve…” his brow creased. “We’ve all been through a lot. It’s been rough here last couple years, so don’t take their stares the wrong way.”

He turns and faces you again. “On the subject, you look like you ain’t in the best shape yourself. You thirsty? I imagine you are. Come with me.”

He walks past you, and when you turn around you suddenly face a worn, wooden door with cracked glass panes giving you a view of a small, wooden room, the wood rotting and also lacking maintenance. You take a step back and find yourself in front of a rather tall building that doesn’t fare much better. It looks slightly better than everything else in this town but still doesn’t pass for having a place in a regular town environment.

Opening the door, a loud creak piercing your ears and making you flinch, the stallion walks you in and faces you. “Come on in, sunny, before the heat gets in.”

You enter the building, and the stallion shuts the door. You get a good look at the inside. The walls, as you had seen from outside, are cracked, the insulation on the other side clearly visible, and tiny pieces of wood jut out from the floor and ceiling. Rows of seats are lined up in front of you leading up to a small podium. It's not hard to assume that this is the town hall.

The stallion leads you to the other end of the room through a door, and you find yourself in a tiny room with a tall ceiling, and in front of you is a large jug of water that reaches almost to the ceiling and takes up half the room in width. The sight of the huge quantity of water fills you with relief, and you can already imagine the sensation of the fluid trickling down your throat and ridding of the painful soreness in your throat. Your mouth would have salivated if there was enough water in your body to produce it.

Grabbing a cup from a nearby cupboard, he holds it underneath the tap of the jug and pulls the handle. Water flows out into the cup, and the sight of it is a gift from god in your eyes.

“Here you go, I can tell you need it.” The stallion holds it out and, surprising him, you snatch the cup out of his hoof, almost causing the contents of the cup to spill out, before holding it up to your mouth and dumping it straight down your throat.

You’d never tasted anything more delicious in your life. All at once, the water streams down your throat, into the depths of your stomach. It’s the most satisfying thing in the world, and just as you begin to enjoy it, all the water is gone.

“Woah, calm yourself, fella,” the stallion says, chuckling, somewhat out of concern. “You really needed that water, huh?”

You nod, still wallowing in the satisfaction of consuming water for the first time in days.

“Well, eh, I wish I could give you more, but we’re in a bit of a crisis right now, and this is the only water we have. Looks like a lot, but everyone in the town’s gotta drink. This may be enough for a week, or maybe a bit less. What I just gave you was generous. Take that as a sign that I trust you, and since you ain’t got many places to go, I’ll let you stay in the village. I would assume that’s what you plan to do.” He looks at you curiously. “Eh, am I right in assuming that?”

Yes_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________No