What will the legendary bounty hunter Hex do when confronted by ponies who just want to be friends?
He was a hero to some, a villain to others... and wherever he roamed, ponies spoke his name in whispers. He had no friends, this Hex, but he did have two companions: one was death itself... the other, the acrid smell of ozone...
A Jonah Hex crossover, in the sense that the character is, and always has been, a pony.
The two figures ran, shrouded in darkness, galloping at top speed through the moonless night. They ran across windswept prairie, across desert plains and through patches of brush. When they couldn’t run anymore, they climbed. Up and across rocky plateaus, through canyons and across peaks where even the most sure-footed of buffalo feared to tread. Finally, exhausted, they slumped to the ground, gasping for breath. The nervous one, a young, rangy fellow still more colt than stallion, peeked fearfully over the rocks they’d chosen to rest behind. His gruff companion began to unpack his saddlebags, preparing bedroll and fire.
“Of course we lost him, ya dumb cuss. Nothin’ could follow us ‘cross alla that! We got us a head start, an’ there ain’t nopony knows this terrain better’n me!” As the fire roared to life, his magical aura again wrapped around his bags, setting them to the side and removing provisions, a small burlap bag and a battered tin pot. Tearing open the bag, the gruff one closed his eyes and inhaled, letting out a relaxed sigh as he allowed the powerful aroma to wash over him, the tension draining from his posture. “Nothin’ like a fresh cuppa coffee fer tired bones.”
Again checking over his shoulder, the nervous one scoured the mountain range behind them. “I dunno, Ash... I just... They say he’s-” He’s silenced by a hoof upside the head.
“Now what I tell you ‘bout flappin’ yer gums with all them stories? He ain’t no demon, he ain’t ‘one with the spirits’, heck, he ain’t even a unicorn! He’s an earth pony, plain and simple, and a damned ugly one at that. I’m tellin’ ya, there ain’t nothing that can pick up our tracks. Fer cryin’ out loud, even a pegasus couldn’t find us out here! Winged rats can’t even fly out here, updrafts or summat. Now, you’ve got two choices, friend. Y’all can either sit here, have a cup ‘a coffee an’ help me count the cash...” He adjusted the bulging saddlebags almost lovingly “Or, if’n you’re that worried about the big bad earth pony, why don’cha go an’ sit allll the way o’er there? Sure, it’s outta the firelight, an’ it can get mighty cold, but at least y’all can watch the trail?” He laughed, adjusting the pot, “Go take up a nice lookout, an’ see for yerself that there ain’t nothin’ coming.” Finished with his ministrations, he sat back with a sigh as the coffeepot gently bubbled away. Lying back against a boulder, he pulled his stetson down over his eyes. “As fer me? I’m gonna take mahself a well earned rest afore I get to work... ‘s tough stuff, figgerin’ out exactly how much richer we are.” Stung, yet slightly reassured by his companion’s scorn, the nervous one sat anxiously by the fire, rubbing his hooves together to stave off the icy chill of the night around them. All around the two outlaws there was near dead silence, a pure, clean stillness broken only by the crackle of the fire and the slow bubbling of the coffeepot.
With a sigh, the nervous colt drew his coat about him and rose to his hooves, turning from the comforting blaze.
Just one look.
Stepping away from the fire, he made his way to the top of the ridge, picking his way through sandswept rock and bracken, and surveyed the trail below. Stone and sand stretched as far as the eye could see, painting a desolate picture of emptiness and solitude. His companion was right, it seemed. There was no sign of life across those silent plains. Even the desert’s native wildlife seemed to be missing.
Finally satisfied that he and his companion hadn’t been followed, he turned away from the expanse below him, only to come face to face with a sight that could make the blood of the most hardened desperado run cold. On the cliff opposite him, a shadowy figure stood ominously, taunting him with its presence. As the adrenaline spike burned through him like a lightning strike, speed born of desperation and raw terror spurred him on as hoof shot to his side, the bracelet he wore magically connecting to the slim steel rod holstered there. Drawing his weapon, he leveled it at his target, the hours of practice shooting at tin cans in the back streets of his hometown rushing back to him in his hour of direst need. With a crack, a single bolt of magical lightning erupted from the tip of his torch, striking the distant figure square on.
Not bothering to check whether or not the figure had fallen, the colt whirled around, running fast, faster than he had thought possible. As he rounded the boulders separating him from his partner, he stumbled, rolling to a stop with a pained grunt. Looking up, he noticed the dark figure regarding him over the brim of its mug of piping hot coffee tenderly cradled in the crook of its fetlock.
Scrambling to his hooves, the nervous colt turned back a moment, scanning the darkness behind him, as he addressed the figure. “It’s him! He’s here! I think I got him, but I ain’t taking no chances! Come on, we gotta go! Now!” As he returned his gaze to the figure, it spoke, its voice rooting him to the spot.
“Now, that ain’t very hospitable of you. Ah’m sure your pal don’t have hisself any issues with sharin’ some more of this here coffee. Why not sit an’ stay a spell?” The voice, deep and rough, bones ground beneath a millstone, could only belong to one stallion. As the nervous colt, eyes wide, digested exactly what it was the figure had said, it raised its head, flickering firelight casting a reddish glow across a single wild eye, staring deep into his soul. “Go on, then. Reach fer it, if’n you’ve got a mind to.”
Once more did raw terror lend speed to his hoof as he reached for his belt. Once more did the steel bangle wrapped about his fetlock stretch with magnetic tendrils, reaching for its mate.
A sharp crack rang out, echoing across the mountains. The colt looked down, examining the neat hole through his chest, as his vision clouded.
Funny, he thought, I thought it would hurt. As he collapsed to the ground, the figure holstered its own weapon before rising from its seat and approaching him. His back to the flames, the dark figure struck a match, its brief light illuminating a face that most would swear had clawed its way from the pits of Tartarus itself for just one brief moment as he brought it to the tip of a cigarette. As suddenly as it had come, the flame was extinguished, leaving only a softly glowing cigarette tip, which bobbed and weaved, tracing ethereal patterns in the air as the stallion spoke.
“A pity. Thought you might’ve had more sense than yer pal.”
He was a hero to some, a villain to others... and wherever he roamed, ponies spoke his name in whispers. He had no friends, this Hex, but he did have two companions: one was death itself... the other, the acrid smell of ozone...
A cloud of dust rose from the desert floor, grains of sand lit orange by the fading light of the setting sun as the four massive stallions tore through the desert at a steady pace, grunts of exertion mingling with the sound of their hooves and the rumbling of the train cars they pulled as they made their way down the long, thin line of steel, wood and stone cut by the railroad tracks.
As the cars they pulled rattled and shook, an onlooker might, for a brief moment, notice one of the cars was rocking improperly; out of synch with the rest of its fellows in a display of raw defiance of physics. However, if they were to look inside, an explanation would be quickly forthcoming.
“Ooh! There’s one! Ooh, there’s another! There’s one! And another! And another! And anotherandanotherandanotherandanother!” The bright pink earth pony zipped back and forth between the windows of the car at an impressive pace, pointing out the windows with the pure, excited glee of a six year old filly on Hearth’s Warming Day. The rest of the car’s occupants, a collection of brightly coloured mares of all races, appeared to be attempting to make one of their number, a cyan pegasus with a multichromatic mane and a guilty grin, catch fire with their minds.
She chuckled a bit sheepishly, scratching the back of her head with a hoof, wilting under the stares of six of her companions. “Oh, come on, guys... How was I supposed to know she’d do it out loud?”
“It’s Pinkie Pie.”
“Well, maybe, but-”
“Come on, I just-”
“It’s Pinkie Pie.”
“Well, I... Uh... It just... I mean...” She sighed. “Okay, I should have seen this coming.” With a second, louder sigh, she dragged herself from a sitting position and laboriously trudged down the aisle towards the bouncing pink blur. “Hey, uh... Pinkie?”
“Yeah, Dashie?” The giggly pink nightmare in question paused in her mad rush from window to window to regard her friend.
“Look, maybe playing ‘Spot the grain of sand’ wasn’t the best idea... Let’s find something else to do, ok? Maybe we can-WOAH!” Rainbow Dash tumbled backwards as she was tackled, rolling backwards in a blur of blue and hot pink, landing with a thud, her giggling friend sitting on her chest.
“Ooh, like what? Maybe we can play cards, or we can go and check out the other cars, or we can go find something to eat, or we can-mmph!” Taken momentarily aback, Pinkie crossed her eyes, examining the hoof that was suddenly preventing her from speaking.
Applejack sighed. “Now, Pinkie. Ah’m gonna move mah hoof. When Ah do, yer gonna be nice’n quiet. We clear?” Mollified, Pinkie nodded. “Alrighty then.” Removing the hoof, she sat back in her bunk. “There we go. All quiet-like.”
Pinkie giggled a bit, helping Rainbow to her hooves. “Sorry girls... I’m just so excited! I just can’t *WAIT* to go back! There’s so much I want to there! I-” she paused, casting a glance towards the irritated cowpony giving her a bit of a look. “Sorry.” She giggled again. “I just can’t wait! I can’t decide what to do first! OOH! That’s what we can do, Dashie! Let’s make a list of all the stuff we can do in Appleloosa! And then we can make a list of all the stuff we CAN’T do, just so we’ll know what we can do when we get home!” As she darted back to her own bed, fishing about in a balloon-emblazoned saddlebag , she was halted by a stern reprimand.
“Pinkie.” Twilight fixed her with a reproachful stare. “We’re not going to Appleloosa for a vacation, you know that. We’ve got something important to do. You can play around after we’ve gotten everything settled. Ok?”
Pinkie sighed, pulling her head out of her bags. “Ok, Twilight...” With a bit of a yawn, she curled up in her bunk. “You’re right. This IS important. She needs our help, and any Pinkie that puts having fun in front of helping a friend is no Pinkie of mine! Besides, I need to get my rest. Need to be ready for tomorrow! I’ve got it this time, I know it!” She giggled. “There’s no way they won’t like it this time!” She sat upright, lifting herself onto her forelegs. “Hmm, maybe... Hey, do you guys want to hear it again? Maybe I should practice-”
Placing a comforting hoof on her shoulder, Rarity gave her a warm smile. “Pinkie, darling. We’ve all heard your new song several times. We absolutely love it, and I’m sure they will, too.”
Giggling a little, Pinkie settled back down. “I’m glad you all love it so much! I mean, at first I thought you guys might have got tired after the second or the third or the fifth or the eighth time I sang it today but I’ve GOT to practice it I mean I don’t usually write my songs beforehand but they really really HATED the last one I think they’re the first ponies who hated one of my songs so I had to make super duper mega ultra sure that they liked this one so I wrote it all down beforehand so I could be sure they’d like it because I let them all down because I couldn’t come up with a good enough song last time but now this time I just KNOW they’ll love it!” She paused again, thinking a moment. “Hmm... Maybe I should sing it again, just to practice!”
Opening her mouth and taking a deep breath, she was promptly silenced by a chorus of protest. Freezing in place, she seemed almost like an ice sculpture, liable to shatter if not treated with the greatest care. “...Don’t... Don’t you like my song?” Her voice quivered, her eyes wide as her usual bubbly demeanour deserted her.
Hurriedly, Rarity wracked her brain, searching for a way to simultaneously let her pink friend down easily, yet simultaneously defend her poor eardrums from yet another rendition of ‘You Gotta Share 2: Share Harder’. “Oh, of course we like your song, dear! We positively love it! And that’s exactly why we don’t want you to sing it again. We just feel that it would be simply horrid if you were to strain your voice! You don’t want to render yourself unable to sing your lovely song for them, do you?” Horrorstruck, Pinkie promptly clamped both hooves over her muzzle, like a foal refusing to eat her vegetables, and dove beneath her covers.
“Well, Ah’m glad we cleared that up... But she’s right, y’all. We ain’t headed down there for a party. Now come on... we’d best be gettin’ some rest. Big day tomorrow.” Applejack indicated the bunks surrounding them, coupled with several meaningful looks flashed to her friends. Amid noises of agreement, the seven mares readied themselves for bed, climbing into their bunks. Soon, the lamps in the car were extinguished, only the light of the rising moon, worming its way through slight gaps in the drawn curtains, to illuminate the fast approaching night.
All snuggled up in bed, Twilight Sparkle was fast slipping into sleep’s welcoming embrace when a soft voice from the bunk below hers tugged her back into wakefulness.
“...Twilight?” The unicorn in question groaned slightly, yawning.
“Mhm?”
“...you asleep?” The sound of hoof meeting forehead was audible. “...sorry...stupid question...” Twilight sighed, rolling over to peer over the side. Meeting her eyes were those of a shy young unicorn, the reason for their journey.
“Don’t worry about it... How are you feeling? Tomorrow’s a big day for you.” The mare below her sighed, curling up and drawing her blankets close about herself.
“It is... I...” she took a deep breath. “...I’m scared... I know it’s for the best, and I know you’ll come visit, and I know I really don’t have many other options, at least there I know there are some ponies who’ll help me but-” She fell silent, wrapped in a gentle but heartfelt hug.
“It’s ok... I know you’re scared, this is a big change for you... I’m sorry we can’t stay to help you settle in, but-” It was Twilight’s turn, it seemed, to
“No, no, please... I know that you all have important things to do. I can’t expect you all to drop everything and stay in Appleloosa for a few weeks.” She sighed, the sigh turning to a yawn even as it passed her lips. “It’s been a long day... We should get some rest.” She laughed a little, noting the look on Twilight’s face, and cutting her off. “I’ll be fine, I promise.”
With a bit of a laugh, Twilight once again climbed the ladder to her bunk. “Alright... Just remember. If you want to talk tonight, don’t be afraid to wake me up. I know that the Equestrian Surgeon General recommends at least six hours of sleep per pony over the age of fifteen, so if you happen to wake me up, we should still get enough sleep to function properly tomorrow, unless the time exceeds three hours, in which case-” The tail end of her sentence was cut off by a barrage of pillows, flung from several bunks. “Ok, ok! I’m going to bed, sheesh! Just don’t blame me if you all- Gah! Ok, I’m going, I’m going!” Ducking under another barrage of puffy white missiles and sliding under her covers, Twilight curled up once again, closing her eyes and softly drifting away to dreamland.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Twilight awoke with a jerk, eyes snapping open at the sudden jolt that rocked the carriage. “Come on, sleepyhead, we’re here!” With a yawn, Twilight shook her head, knocking the last vestiges of sleep from her brain. Hopping out of her bunk, she noticed that all of her friends, save one, were already preparing to disembark, fitting the last of their belongings into their saddlebags. With a sigh, she nudged the lump buried beneath the covers. “Come on... It’s time to go.” When there was no response, Twilight took the obvious next step, which was to magically whisk the blankets from the bed.
As she pulled the blankets from the bed, she paused, momentarily confused by the empty bed beneath them. After a moment of thought, she brought a hoof to her forehead, massaging her temples with a sigh. It was far too early in the morning for this. Bringing the blanket overtop of the bunk once more, she gave it a thorough shake, sending a green form tumbling out of the suspended duvet. Twilight sighed, giving the disgruntled lump an affectionate nuzzle.
“Come on, now... It’s time to go. You don’t want to stay on the train, it’ll go back with you still on it.”
“Good.” Movement slowed in the car as its occupants took note of the exchange.
Twilight closed her eyes, sighing. “Misty... Come on, now... Please... Please don’t...” With a quiet sigh, the veridian unicorn climbed out of the bed, brushing her striking cerulean mane from her eyes, and enveloped Twilight in a tired hug.
“...I’m sorry... I know this is just as hard for all of you as it is for me... I... I shouldn’t-!” Misty fell silent, suddenly wrapped in five more hugs as her friends abandoned their bags on their bunks and turned their attention to the two unicorns.
“Nah, sugarcube... Don’t be sorry... Just... Just remember we’ll miss ya plenty, alright?” Applejack smiled softly, doing her best to remain dry eyed. Misty nodded, beginning to tear up a little herself.
“Come on, girls! This isn’t the time for goodbyes! That’s at the goodbye party! And that’s after the ‘Welcome to your new home’ party! We’ve got a lot of partying to do before you can even *THINK* about being sad!” Pinkie’s antics never failed to draw at least a chuckle from her assembled friends.
Wrapping her friends in a big bear hug, Rainbow Dash gave Misty a quick nuzzle, smiling encouragingly. “Yeah, come on, guys. Besides, it’s not like this is goodbye goodbye or anything! We’ll TOTALLY come visit! And we’ll send letters and junk, too! We’ll be a lot closer than you think. And it’s like Pinkie said, we’ll have time for all the mushy stuff later.”
Misty nodded resolutely. “You’re right, Rainbow... Come on, girls. Let’s go. We’ll have plenty of time for all that later. Appleloosa awaits!” Renewed, the seven mares packed their bags and made their way off the train into the station beyond. It was a slightly rickety building, the paint on the wood beginning to fade slightly. Being one of the first buildings built during Appleloosa’s establishment and colonization, it was beginning to show its age, especially considering its slapdash construction. Applejack closed her eyes, breathing in the familiar scents of dust, sweat, steel and apples that the town exuded like a haze. Opening them again, she proceeded to scan the dusty street for...
“Aha, there you are!” Breaking from the group, Applejack rushed forward, closing in on the young stallion that she’d spotted. Upon seeing her, a broad grin spread across his face, and he ran to meet her, embracing one another as they met. “Braeburn! It’s sure as sugar good to see you again, cuz!”
“Sure is, cousin Applejack! It’s been too long! And your friends, too!” Releasing Applejack from the rib-crushing hug he’d wrapped her in, he addressed the assembled group. “It’s fantastic to see y’all again! We still owe y’all a great deal’a thanks fer all the help with the whole buffalo situation.” As he spoke, his eyes travelled across the group before resting on Misty, who had firmly ensconced herself behind Twilight and Rainbow Dash, trying as hard as she could to avoid being noticed. Braeburn glanced at Applejack, who nodded once in confirmation.
Approaching with an almost uncharacteristic gentleness, he gave her a warm smile. “Hey there, darlin’. Ah’m Braeburn. It’s a pleasure ta meet you. Applejack told me in her letter that y’all are movin’ out here?”
Nodding quietly, Misty coughed slightly. “Thank you... And yes, yes I am. Moving, I mean. Out here. I-” Misty sighed, bringing a hoof to her forehead in irritation with herself. “I’m sorry... I’m a little ‘off’ today, I’m just... Dealing with a lot, right now...”
Braeburn chuckled, shaking his head a little. “Don’t you worry yerself, ma’am. Applejack’s told me everything. And I do mean everything.” At these words, Misty’s head shot up, making frantic eye contact with the farmer. Her fears confirmed with another quiet nod, she began to back away, only to be stopped by Twilight’s comforting hoof on her shoulder. Braeburn chuckled again. “Come now, darlin’... If’n I cared even slightly ‘bout what’s gone on, Ah’d have long since mentioned it. Yer out here ta start over, an’ I’m here to do everythin’ I can ta help you.”
Mollified slightly, Misty relaxed with a little sigh. “Sorry... I... I’m just a little bit paranoid.”
Braeburn laughed, giving her a friendly smile. “If’n half of what mah cousin’s told me’s true, you’ve got every right to be. Just you remember, though... These are good folks ‘round here, an’ you’ve got nothin’ ta be afraid of. Now... Is there a name to go with that pretty face, or am I just s’posed to make one up?”
With a bit of a laugh, she brushed the mane from her eyes yet again and gave him a small smile. “Misty. Misty Veil.” taking Braeburn’s offered hoof, she shook it gently.
A broad grin spread across his face, and he let out a laugh. “Well now, Misty Misty Veil, allow me to be the first to welcome you...” rearing up on his hind legs, he took a deep breath, only to find a hoof blocking his mouth, and a rather unamused Applejack giving him a flat stare.
“Braeburn. We’re family. That means more’n just about anythin’ ta me. If the need arose, Ah would die for you. However. If you yell ‘Appleloosa’ one more time, I swear to Celestia I will discipline you. Are we clear?”
Pacified, Braeburn settled back down, amid quiet laughter. “Well... Sorry ‘bout that... At any rate, welcome ta Appleloosa. Ah’m sure that you’ll fit right in here. Come on, Ah’ll give y’all the grand tour. Again!” Lowering his head, he placed himself behind the group, and pushed them along, off the station platform and out into the dusty street.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“An’ this here’s the local waterin’ hole, the Salt Block!” With a grin, Braeburn indicated the building in front of the tired and hungry group, a medium sized saloon, its sign emblazoned with the image of a salt shaker. “Ain’t she a beaut? Best grub in town! Say, y’all haven’t had a bite ta eat yet, what’dya say we head in and get some break-” Braeburn paused, noticing the dust clouds that billowed where his cousin and her friends had once stood. “...-fast. Ah’ll take that as a yes.” He chuckled to himself, shaking his head, before following them inside.
Inside the already bustling saloon, it seemed the girls had already found themselves a table, and were laughing and joking with one another. Taking a seat, Braeburn laughed. “Makin’ yerselves right at home now, ain’cha? Good, ‘s about time. Any thoughts on what y’all might be wantin’ fer breakfast? My treat.” At these words, the eyes of the assembled mares grew wide, and they all shifted slightly away from Pinkie Pie, whose grin was currently spreading wider than physics declared it had any right to. Braeburn tilted his head curiously. “What’s wrong?” Catching their pointed stares at Pinkie, he chuckled. “Ah, Ah get it. Y’all’re worried Ah don’t have enough coin on me ta sate her appetite. Now, don’t you worry one bit, Ah got this. ‘sides, how much could she eat?”
Several dozen plates of food later, Braeburn was involved rather deeply in a debate with himself on why, exactly, he felt a deep, pressing need to always open his big mouth and challenge fate.
Applejack laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. “Well, cuz, somethin’ tells me that y’all weren’t quite expectin’ a hungry Pinkie Pie... but don’t you worry. We got enough in our emergency ‘Feed Pinkie’ fund ta take care of it.” Sharing a bit of a laugh, the two conversed a while longer, catching up on the news from their respective towns.
“Well now, y’all sure can put it away. If’n you all are ready, we might as well make our way to the last stop on our tour, Miss Misty’s new home sweet home.”
At these words, Misty sighed a little, closing her eyes, but then opened them with a small smile. “I’d like that...” Lifting a hoof, she raised her mug, holding it out to her friends. “To new beginnings.” With a smile, her friends joined her in the toast.
“To new be-”
“HOLY HAYSEED, IT’S HIM!” As the shout echoed throughout the saloon, the patrons of the saloon flocked to the windows, jostling for position as each fought to get a glimpse of the street beyond. As the mares turned to Braeburn, hoping for some sort of explanation, they found his chair empty. A closer examination of the crowd at the window revealed that he was pressed right up at the front, doing his best to get a glimpse of the street. With an annoyed sound, Applejack fished about in her saddlebag a moment, extricating a length of rope. With a practiced flick of her neck, she cast the lasso, neatly snaring Braeburn’s tail. Several seconds later, the stallion found himself facedown beside the table.
Fixing her cousin with a stern gaze, Applejack quickly stowed her rope.“Now, if’n it wouldn’t be too much trouble, would ya mind fillin’ us in on what in the hay is goin’ on? Who’s ‘He’?”
Braeburn picked himself up, sighing, and returned to his seat, taking a long drink of his coffee. “Right, right... Ah s’pose it ain’t fair ta keep y’all in suspense... Now... Do ya remember how, in mah last letter, Ah told you ‘bout some trouble they’d had a few miles west’a here?”
Applejack paused, thinking, before digging about in her bag, coming up with a piece of slightly crumpled paper.. “Ah do recall... Somethin’ about a bank heist?”
Braeburn nodded. “Right... Two stallions knocked over a bank down in Brayston... Killed four ponies, one ‘a them a filly not even outta her teens.” He paused a moment at the shocked gasps.
“Woah woah, what do you mean, ‘knocked over’? You mean somepony robbed a bank? In Equestria? No way! You seriously expect us to believe that somepony killed somepony else just for a stinking pile of bits?” Rainbow Dash crossed her forelegs. “Nuh uh, stuff like that doesn’t happen!”
Braeburn sighed, taking another sip from his already empty mug. Twilight lifted a nearby coffeepot, filling the cup again, although he barely took notice. “Thanks... But Ah’m afraid yer wrong on that. Maybe that sorta thing don’t happen back where y’all are from, but... It’s a different world out in these parts, a hard one... Ponies’ll do things that y’all would never consider possible.” He shook his head. “It’s a hard land, with hard ponies livin’ in her.” He paused again, allowing those at the table to digest what he’d said. “At any rate... Couple’a stallions knocked over a bank, killed four ponies and ran fer it. Now-” He fell silent as he was again interrupted.
Rarity paused a moment, glancing between the crowd at the windows and Braeburn. “Wait, wait wait wait. Are you telling us that those ruffians are in this town? This one? Right out there? In that street?”
Again, Braeburn sighed. “Please, Miss Rarity, let me finish.” After a slight apology, he continued his tale. “About a week back, a pony came through town. He was askin’ after ‘em. Well, we sold him some supplies an’ sent him on his way with all the information the sheriff had on ‘em... Can’t say-”
“Wait, are you telling us you just sent their friend after them to help them out? Dude, SO not cool!”
“May ah PLEASE finish mah story, Miss Dash? Please?” Taking a moment in silence to make sure that the mares would, in fact, allow him to finish. “Thank you. Now... He weren’t no friend ‘a theirs... He was a bounty hunter, somepony who hunts down outlaws fer the reward money. An’ he’s just turned up back in town, so it seems. Alone.”
Pinkie frowned a little, disappointment written across her face. “Awww... He couldn’t find them... He must be so sad! OH! We should throw him a ‘Sorry you didn’t find the baddies’ party! We can h-mmph!” Pinkie stopped mid sentence, considering the cupcake that she suddenly found its way into her mouth.
Twilight grinned sheepishly, shrugging a little. “Emergency Pinkie stash.”
Braeburn held his head in his hooves, mentally counting the seconds until the conversation would be over. “Right... Anyways, though... This fella got himself a reputation. He don’t come back alone. Ever.”
Twilight tilted her head curiously. “But... You just said he was alone... If he has such a reputation, why would he be back if he hadn’t succeeded?”
“...I believe he did succeed, Miss Twilight.”
The mares looked at each other, confusion apparent on their faces. Surprisingly, it was Fluttershy, of all ponies, who spoke. “But... um... If, If he did... where are they?”
Braeburn raised a hoof, bringing it slowly across his neck in an all too familiar pantomime that had the seven mares gasping in horror.
“...You’re telling us that he... he...” Braeburn’s nod was all it took to send the mares flying from their seats, pressing their noses against the glass. From their perspective, they had a clear view of the scene before them. Across the street, the friends watched as a stallion they recognized as sheriff Silverstar, accompanied by several of his deputies, speaking with a strange figure.
He was an earth pony, they surmised; It was impossible to make out either wings or a horn due to the long duster and the wide brimmed hat that hid his face. As they watched, the pony passed the sheriff two large, bulging sacks. Opening the first one, the sheriff dipped a foreleg inside, pulling out a hoofful of bits. Nodding, he closed the bag and passed it backwards to a deputy standing behind him.
Applejack pointed. “That must be all’a the money them stallions stole!”
As they continued to watch, the stallion passed the sheriff the second bag.
Dash’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Wait, if that one’s the money, what’s in that one?” As they watched, the sheriff opened the second bag, he peeked inside, before pulling his head back immediately, disgust etched across his face. Shaking his head, he passed it back to a second deputy, who held it gingerly as far away from himself as he could manage. Silverstar gestured to a third deputy, who brought forth another, smaller sack, which he presented to the stallion. Tipping his hat, the stallion then turned away, making his way across the street.
Towards the saloon.
“...He’s coming this way, isn’t he?” For a brief moment, there was dead silence. Every single patron could hear the slow drip-drip of the coffeepot behind the bar counter. Only for a moment, though. Within seconds, the entire saloon exploded into motion, mares and stallions scrambling to return to their seats. As the last pony made it to their seat, the double doors swung open.
The slow clop of large hooves hitting wooden boards at an easy, unhurried pace echoed throughout the saloon as their owner made his way to the bar. Not a single pair of eyes moved from their drinks, as if the sheer act of pretending he wasn’t there would remove the stallion from her midst. Well, maybe a single pair of eyes moved.
That was the term that most present would probably use to describe the atmosphere that had fallen over the room. Most present turned their attention to their drinks, as though the liquid within the cheap little glasses had somehow decided to share with its drinkers the secrets of the universe. A silly thought, of course.
They’d need to have at least three more glasses before that started to happen.
For those who remained watching it was an almost surreal scene. They had to admit, though, it was original way to commit suicide: Most would’ve simply laid down on the train tracks.
Much to the relief of those assembled, however, a quick hoof covered the irrepressible pink mare’s mouth, another appearing on her shoulder. Their owner, a rather lavishly dressed stallion, nodded politely to both the stallion at the bar and to the bartender, before gently guiding her back to her table.
“Terribly sorry about the intrusion, Mr. Hex,” he said in a clipped Manehattan accent, inclining his head apologetically. Fishing about in a pocket, the stallion removed a few bits, placing them further down the counter. “Here, tell you what. How’s about I make it up to you? Barkeep, another round for this fine fellow, please. On me.”
Eager to avoid a scene and quietly thankful he had somehow managed to avoid a rather unsightly mess, the bartender quickly complied, a second drink finding its way in front of the stallion in question in a span of time which, had it been timed, would quite possibly have broken several records.
Silently, the stallion at the bar eyed the newcomer before slightly inclining his head in thanks. As he returned to his drink, the tension drained from the room like air from a balloon. Easing Pinkie into her seat, the newcomer politely touched the brim of his hat, nodding to the assembled mares (and Braeburn) deferentially before pulling up a chair and joining them. Chuckling to himself, he shook his head before addressing Pinkie. “Well, ma’am, I can’t help but admire your determination towards friendliness, though I can certainly fault your sense of time and place. I’m afraid he’s not quite the type for…” he grinned wryly. “Socializing.” Sighing, Applejack shook her head, adjusting her hat slightly. “Yeah, Ah know the type, an’ lots’a times, it’s best t' leave ‘em to their own devices. Pinkie here’s just a bit too… Friendly fer her own good, sometimes. Don’t quite understand that some folks jus’ need to be left alone.”
Pinkie crossed her forelegs. “Jeez!” she grumped. “Well, excuuuuse me for trying to be friendly!”
Sighing, Rarity gently placed a foreleg on her friend’s shoulder. “I understand that, Pinkie, and it’s a very nice thing to do most of the time. It’s simply that…” Rarity trailed off momentarily as she glanced towards the stallion at the bar, curling her lip in disgust. The stallion had raised his glass, downing it in one gulp, a trickle of liquid escaping his mouth and splattering to the floor. “Ugh. SOME ponies simply don’t deserve the courtesy. I swear, his table manners are simply atrocious!”
“Oh, I wouldn’t hold it against him, miss.” The stallion shrugged. “He can’t exactly help it.”
Turning her attention back to the stallion, Rarity cleared her throat. “Well! At any rate, sir, please allow me to be the first to properly thank you for your assistance. I fear what may have happened.” Pausing for a moment, Rarity began to dig about in her saddlebag. “Please, allow me to compensate you for your efforts, or at least for the bits you spent.”
Chuckling, the stallion shook his head, waving her away with a hoof. ”Please, miss. The only compensation I require is the names of such… Entrancing young ladies. It’s rare we get mares of such excellent breeding as yourselves out this way.” “Aw, shucks, mister. We ain’t nothin’ special, really. Ah’m Applejack, an’ this is Twilight Sparkle, Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash. This fella over here’s mah cousin Braeburn. The gal flutterin’ her eyelashes at ya like she’s tryin’ t'take flight is Rarity, an’ I believe you’ve met Pinkie Pie.”
The stallion laughed, tipping his own broad, flat hat back to get a better view of the table. “Well, I can safely say it’s an absolute honour to make your acquaintances.” He paused a moment, before bringing a hoof to his forehead in a gesture of frustration. “Please, ladies, forgive my rudeness. One should never ask a lady her name before introducing himself. I,” he proclaimed with a flourish, “am Aces High: Rambler, gambler and the sharpest shooter and dresser in the entire territory!”
“Well, you’re certainly dressed the part, Mr. High,” Rarity marveled. True, she supposed, his outfit may be a tad… novel, but it’s certainly unique! And indeed it was: Dark chaps with a richly embroidered inlay of red and blue accented a similarly coloured vest and a shining silver brooch, all emblazoned with a fanned deck of cards, each of which seemed to be the ace of spades, all topped off with a flat, wide-brimmed hat, similarly embroidered and emblazoned.
He grinned, politely touching the brim of his hat. “Well, milady, I can clearly see you’re one with an excellent eye for high fashion. Oh, and please... Only my tailor calls me Mr. High. To my friends, I’m Ace, and I doubt I’d be calling you folk anything but.” Applejack smiled broadly, shaking his hoof energetically. “Good to meet’cha! Ah gotta say, though. Ya don’t quite seem the type fer this sorta country. What brings ya out this way?”
Reclining in his chair, Ace gestured noncommittally, pushing his hat a bit further up his forehead. “Oh, you’d be surprised. I’ve taken to this country like a duck to water, so I have. A rough, tough country, where the stallions are stallions! The days harsh and the nights harsher! The moon and stars your only guide, the—"
A light clink rang out.
Ace turned to find a cup and saucer floating lazily beside his head. "Oh, yes please, miss Rarity, I’d love some.” His speech forgotten, Ace gratefully accepted the cup of coffee held aloft in Rarity's magic. Taking a sniff, he let out a satisfied sigh. “I suppose I can let you thank me just a little bit. There are few things better, I find, than a good cup of coffee, though I’d have to rank such pleasant company at the top of my list.”
Rarity shook the coffeepot slightly, judging its level, before standing and moving towards the bar. Looking back towards the table, she smiled, batting her eyelashes ever so slightly. “Oh, do go on. It truly is a pleasure to find such a rock of proper civilization all the way out here. I'll be back in just a moment, I'll just-” As she turned back towards, the bar, Rarity found herself bouncing off somepony’s chest, falling back onto her rump.
”Oof!" She blinked, crossing her eyes momentarily to check for damage as she rubbed at her nose. "Oww... Oh, I do apologize. I wasn't looking... where… where I..." The words died in her throat.
Now, Rarity had always considered herself a mare of upstanding class and composure. Oh, she may have had her share of minor... incidents, true, but that's all they really were. Well, she may have lost her cool during the Grand Galloping Gala, but what mare could properly call herself a lady would she not stand up for herself when the need arises? And yes, she couldn't very well forget that rather... disturbing meltdown she had had following that simply disastrous fashion show. Her career had been in shambles— what else was she supposed to have done?
All the same, however, as time would pass and even more trying situations would present themselves to her, Rarity would always find herself looking back to this very moment when she would feel her nerves begin to fray. As she sat there, staring up into a face that looked as though it had clawed its way directly out of her nightmares, Rarity managed not to scream.
If she could manage that, she would tell herself over the years to come, she could manage anything.
In the present, though, she found it rather hard to do much of anything at all. Her mouth hung slightly open as Hex looked down at her. The left side of his face was relatively normal, a few thin lines beneath the coat, old scars, telling stories of fights long past. It was almost handsome, she would contemplate later. Much later. And very far away.
The right side, however, was something else altogether. A single deadened eye stared out at her from a bubbled and scarred recess, the coat covering it burned away to reveal darkened and melted flesh beneath. Although his mouth was closed, she had a clear view of his teeth, the flesh over more than half his jawline almost completely seared away, several thin ribbons of flesh still uselessly spanning the gap between his upper and lower jaws.
Rarity stared up into this... this mockery of a face for what felt like an eternity, before it finally spoke.
"Ma'am."
Touching the brim of his hat deferentially, the scarred bounty hunter stepped around her, and she could hear the measured pace of his hooves as he climbed the stairs behind her.
“...ity? Rarity? RARITY!” Raising her voice a little, Twilight shook her gently. “Are you alright?”
Starting, Rarity blinked up at her, mentally fumbling for the correct words “I… I’m quite alright, thank you,” she stammered. “I… I… oh, my word…” Swiftly lifting her own cup, she downed it in one gulp, gratefully accepting the refill that Applejack offered. “Thank you, darling.” Rarity shivered, taking a sip from her cup. “I suppose I understand you now, Ace. I don’t suppose that it could reasonably be called his fault… what with…” Raising a hoof to her cheek, she made a gesture mimicking liquid escaping before shuddering and taking another drink of her coffee. “What could possibly have happened to his f— Mmph!” Her momentary uneasiness forgotten, Rarity glared furiously down at the hoof now covering her mouth before redirecting the glare to the stallion it belonged to.
Heedless of her indignation, Ace kept his hoof in place, his eyes locked on the stairs, watching and waiting. After a few moments, he gently removed his hoof. Taking off his hat, he bowed his head slightly. “I really am sorry for that, miss Rarity, but please believe me when I tell you it was necessary.” Shaking his head, he looked around furtively, as if expecting the bounty hunter to step out of a shadow on the wall. “If you never trust another word out of my mouth, please trust these ones: whatever you do, do not mention his face where he can hear you,” Ace begged, shooting another glance towards the stairs. “The world would be far worse off with one less pretty little unicorn.”
Her indignation forgotten, Rarity shook her head. "I suppose you're right," she sighed. "It WOULD be awfully rude to discuss it in front of him."
Rainbow Dash leaned back in her chair, peering up the stairs. “Aaaah, he’s not so tough. I could totally take him.” she grumbled. “Trust me, filly, you don’t even wanna try,” Ace warned. “He’s fast, damn fast, and nastier than a rattlesnake with a toothache. Some of the rumours I’ve heard… You don’t even wanna hear half of them.”
“Ah’ve heard my fair share’a them, too,” Braeburn nodded. “Some folks say he ain’t really a pony, just some sorta… thing wearin’ the skin’a one, crawled up outta Tartarus ta hunt fer th’flesh of ponies. He don’t need ta eat, don’t need to sleep, an’ when he sets his sights on ya, there ain’t nowhere ya can run, nowhere ya can hide, ‘cause he won’t never stop comin’! There ain’t nothin’ ya can do…” Pausing, Braeburn took a careful glance up the stairs, listening intently. Satisfied that he wasn’t about to be eaten, he continued in a low voice. “An’ as fer the…” He gestured with a hoof, circling the left side of his face and inclining his head meaningfully. “There ain’t no shortage’a stories there.”
Ace nodded in agreement. “I heard he used to live in Canterlot. One day, though, Princess Celestia was walking through the streets, just visiting the townsfolk, being her usual kind self. She was walking through the crowd, you see, and then she saw him. Their eyes met. And you know what she saw?” Ace leaned forward slightly, the mantle of the storyteller wrapped around him like one of Rarity’s patented cashmere scarves.
Despite her own misgivings, Misty couldn’t help but ask. “...W-what? What did she see?”
The stallion’s voice was a whisper. “His soul. She looked him right in the eyes, and she saw a fiend from the blackest pits of Tartarus staring right back at her. She stumbled back with a gasp! How could such a thing make its way into her fair city undetected!? For just a moment, just the barest moment, she froze. But then, do you know what she did?”
The others present leaned forward, entranced by the tale. “What? What’d she do?” Rainbow urged.
“Well, I’ll tell you what she did… She looked that devil out of Tartarus right square in his evil, yellow eyes… And she called down the sun.”
“PRINC—” Twilight paused, finding her mouth covered by eight different hooves.
“Shhhh!”
Rolling her eyes, Twilight continued as soon as her mouth was uncovered, albeit at a much more reasonable volume. “Princess Celestia would never do anything like that! She wouldn’t just attack somepony!”
Cocking an eyebrow, Ace leaned towards her, resting an elbow on the table. “Really now? The Great and Mighty Princess Celestia, while touring her own capital city, would never move to fight a demon that appeared in front of her?” When an answer from the conflicted purple mare was not forthcoming, he smiled gently. “That sounds just like the sort of thing her majesty would do. And so she did!”
By this point, the bar had fallen silent, its patrons listening intently to the whispered tale woven for them at that small corner table. Grinning, Ace stood from his seat, forehooves planted firmly on the table, and leaned in even further, looking from pony to pony as he continued.
“She reared up, wings spread, forehooves rampant, horn aglow with the fires of the sun itself, and she called it down! A heavenly corona of light, a blast from the heavens, the fury of the sun itself! The princess, with her perfect aim, she hit him, bam, right square in the face! Now, the princess, she relaxed. Nothing, let alone a creature of darkness such as he could survive that! But when the flash died down and everypony’s vision returned to normal… There. He. Was. Standing right there, half his face melted off like a wax doll left too close to an open flame! She lowered her head, ready to charge, but then… You know what he did?” Waiting with bated breath, the patrons all leaned closer, making sure not to miss a word.
Ace sat back down, reclining in his chair once again and pulling his hat over his eyes. “He jumped. He turned tail and he jumped, straight off the side of the city. Oh, Princess Celestia searched for him, alright. Had an entire battalion of guards comb the mountainside and dredge the lake, but it was all in vain. By the time they got down there, he was already long gone. He had a problem, though. Even though he’d escaped her for now, he couldn’t get around what she’d done to him. Everypony who saw that face would know he’d been cursed by the sun itself. So he headed straight out, as far away from Canterlot as he could get. He couldn’t stop in any halfway civilized place, anywhere that proper Equestrian newspapers or word of mouth reached, and certainly nowhere with a standing guard squadron. He ran, and he ran, and he ran… And he discovered the western frontier. Celestia’s authority doesn’t extend out this far. There’s not a town past Dusty Springs that's even seen a flash of the white and gold in nigh on fifty years. There’s exactly one law out this way, and that’s a stallion and his torch.”
Before any present at the table could speak, another voice, low and hurried, cut in. “Ah heard he’s old. Like, real old,” the bartender whispered. “Ah heard he was made by Nightmare Moon, back ‘afore Her Majesty banished her. When his mistress lost, Princess Celestia banished ‘im and all th’ rest of her demons to Tartarus… But none’a the guards couldn’t keep ‘im there. He dragged ‘imself back out that pit, crawlin’ through the fire an’ brimstone. That’s how he—” he paused, gesturing to his own face. “Crawled back out, fought ‘is way past Cerberus, been hauntin’ these lands since, that’s what Ah heard.”
“Ah heard it was timberwolves!” All eyes were drawn to a skinny, shaky-looking young stallion in a corner of the room. He looked about nervously, unsettled by the sudden attention. “B-big ones! Big ones, on- on fire!”
Twilight brought a hoof to her forehead with an audible sigh. “Alright, thank you, but this is entirely pointless, not to mention silly. I mean, demons, devils, thousand year old ponies? Princess Celestia using the sun to attack somepony? Flaming timberwolves?”
“BIG ones!”
“Yes, big- Ugh!” She groaned. “Come on. I think it’s about time for us to go. We still need to get Misty moved in, and then find our rooms for tonight. Come on, girls. Er, and Braeburn.” Turning to Ace, she smiled, nodding. “It was great to meet you, sir. Thank you for all your help today.”
“Oh, yes! It was simply wonderful to meet you. I do so hope to see you again before we leave!” Rarity beamed. “Thank you again for helping Pinkie out of her dilemma with that, that… barbarian.”
Standing, Aces High doffed his hat, bringing it across his chest and bowing deeply. “On the contrary, my dear. The pleasure was all mine.”
Giggling coquettishly, Rarity opened her mouth to speak, but all that came out was a squeal, her eyes shooting wide as her tail was given a sharp tug. “C’mon now, lover filly,” Applejack laughed. “Time to go. Ya can talk to yer coltfriend later.” Turning her attention to Ace, she smiled, tipping her hat slightly. “Glad to meet’cha, Ace. Like Twi said, thanks fer helpin’ us out with that whole ‘Hex’ situation. See ya later.”
One by one, the rest of their party said their goodbyes and filed out of the saloon. “That… Was an experience.” Misty giggled. “But hey… At least we made a new friend!”
“Hmph. Yeah, ‘friend’,” Rainbow rolled her eyes. “I don’t trust the guy.”
“Um… What did you have against him, Rainbow? I thought he was very nice.” Fluttershy asked, tilting her head curiously. Scoffing, Rainbow took to the sky, hovering lazily over the rest of the group. “Come on, ‘Shy. You didn’t even say two words to the guy, how would you know? He just… Rubs me the wrong way, is all.” Shrugging, she turned to Braeburn. “So! Misty’s new place. Where we headed?”
"Jus' down here,” Braeburn said, indicating a street. “Newer part'a town, construction jus’ finished a few months ago. Most’re for sale, but there’s a good few for rent. Ah’ve got’cha a nice little place, good view of the town. Ah know you don’t plan on stayin’ too long, but Ah hope ya like it.”
