> They Rise > by Iretis Fox > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Prologue > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The ground rumbled and rattled, small creatures darting away from the metal rails which cut through the serene and rolling countryside. A billow of smoke and a high shriek announced the presence of the scarlet train as it whistled by. It was proud and modern, an aerodynamic and sleek model built for long distance passenger rides. The newest in the latest fleets of high-speed passenger trains, it was another innovative design from workers at Windigo Trains Inc; named for their boast that their trains were as fast as the legendary wind ponies. It was one of the many new wonders in the new progress-driven Equestria. No longer did a train have to be a hungry beast, fed and nurtured by several large, sweating stallions shoveling coal into the train’s gullet, their watchful eyes glued to the gauges monitoring every detail of the steel monster. Now, crystals infused with magic enchantments combined with fuel imported from Saddle Arabia. Together they pushed the train through valleys and mountain and cities at incredible speeds that left a taste of awe in the mouths of ponies it passed by. As the train chugged along, the engine driver sipped an aromatic cup of coffee. Beside him sat a young worker who had the misfortune of ending up in the room just as the aging stallion felt compelled to regale a crowd with stories of his youth. “And let me tell ya, back in the ol’day, Buffalo tribes was ruthless. They’d run a train off'er tracks and stampede until it were scrap metal. An' what sneaky bastards too! Ah, the moment they sniffed out anything of value, the hairy buggers would whoop and shout and cause a commotion- distracting the whole train. And that was the point, a diversion ya see. They’d send some young warrior to unlatch what carriage they aimed for and before you knew it- BAM, they were laughing and howling while they carried off treasure, or cars of young mares never heard from again, the filthy-“ “Sir?” The old, beige stallion blinked at looked down at the young worker, whose ears flicked to the side nervously. The engine driver coughed, disgruntled at the interruption. “Well. Ah suppose the truces made with the tribes have…settled such scores. Those days have been long gone," the old stallion admitted, before pushing on stubbornly. "But still, it could happen. Anytime them Buffalo get bored or unsettled, Ah’m telling you. It’s why a good train worker never sleeps on the job-“ A sharp knock cut in on the engineer’s lecture. The graying pony stamped his hoof in annoyance, irritated at the second break in his soap box. “A'Yep?” Without hesitation, the door swung open and the slender conductor trotted in, levitating a clipboard and a pen beside her. “I’ve come to check on our itinerary progress and-“ her steely gaze shot to the younger stallion. “What are you doing here, baggage pony?” “Ah- Ah was just. Just-“ “Oh leave him alone Crisp Note, he was just keeping an old pony company.” Crisp Note bristled underneath her uniform. This situation did not fit her standards of a perfect train operation. The old engineer raised an eyebrow. “If ya like, he can leave. Just hope this ol’ pony by himself don’t fall asleep at the wheel…Be mighty embarrassin',” a mischievous glint shone in his eyes as he watched the flustered conductor go from her clipboard, to the greying stallion, and back. “Well,” she glared at the pair disapprovingly. “If. I suppose. If the driver insists-“ “Ah do.” The engineer smiled at the unicorn who snorted in retort. Crisp Note looked at her clipboard, lips pressed against her teeth impatiently. The driver ignored her, instead looking out the window at the horizon which reddened as the sun dipped down past the valleys and mountains. “Ah’m happy to report that we are ahead of schedule. You tell the ponies in the engine room to keep her going at this pace; we’ll reach Las Pegasus before the sun rises.” The answer seemed to lighten the expression of the conductor’s face, and she scribbled down the note dutifully. “De-light-ful. Being ahead of schedule is always preferable. I’ll have dinner brought to you…and your friend at six.” “Won-der-ful.” The conductor gave the pair a disgusted glare and then stalked out of the room in a huff. Silence filled the air for several moments. Finally, the driver glanced over at the younger pony and smiled. “What’s yer name, son?” “My friends call me Dusty.” “Dusty, eh?” The driver concentrated, as though committing the name to memory, “Well then Dusty, you’re free to go. Ah know you must have things to do other than let an old pony rant on.” Dusty hesitated, looking over at the driver. The old timer’s bigoted rambles had alarmed the young earth pony, but after the conductor’s appearance, the driver seemed much more tolerable. Endearing even. Besides, he didn’t want to run into the high strung Crisp Note alone after this. He'd end up scrubbing toilets. He hopped up into the seat beside the engineer and looked out at the beautiful desert scenery. “Do ya have any good stories about Buffalo?” he asked. The old stallion’s eyes crinkled into a smile. “Ah do. There’s an old Buffalo tale about the stars. They say that when the world was made, the stars grew jealous of the life that flourished in our beautiful land. But the Maker had trapped them in the night sky, sewn in like jewels in an endless tapestry. So the stars could only watch our lands grown and change and prosper. Unable to do anything but watch, the stars grew hateful and cold in their envy.” “Ah thought you said this was a good story,” Dusty commented wryly. The driver glanced at him. “It is a good story. Those Buffalo knew damn well how to spin a good yarn.” The pair looked out at the darkening sky, where stars began to peek out. “Even now the Buffalo say that the stars struggle against their bindin’, so that one day the stars might fall down to our world, and take it for their own.” Dusty shivered, remembering stories his grandpappy told him on Nightmare Nights long ago. “Aren’t there stories that say stars helped Nightmare Moon escape her prison?” He asked in a small voice. The driver laughed loudly. “It’s a campfire story, colt. Nothing more.” The train drove on through the desert, chug-a-chugging away. Silently, the stars watched from above, glaring down at the world below. The moon, though fuller and brighter than all the stars in the sky looked like a captive, a prisoner, surrounded by cold angry stars. Quietly, unseen by ponies, birds or beasts, the first star winked out. > Stars Beget Fire > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- In another part of the train, one pegasus sprawled out on a thinly padded bench in a small compartment. Magpie Muse was a pony of simple pleasures. She had no qualm with trains, or traveling in a manner most pegasi considered beneath them. In fact, she quite enjoyed the rocking thrum of the engine- while it aggravated most, she found it to be soothing, lulling her to sleep like a gentle thunderstorm. Feathers bristled as the grey pony shifted her position once again. She considered herself a pony easily satisfied by things. This rickety bench wasn’t one of them. Muse could feel the nails beneath the sad excuse of a cushion. Her muscles were becoming bunched and stiff, and with a sigh, she sat up, pressing her forehead against the cool pane of glass. The moonlit landscape buzzed by, too fast to properly absorb anything memorable. Her short, asymmetric cerulean mane fell across her amber eyes, looking tousled from her attempt to sleep. Thinking of sleep, and how much she wished she was having it, Muse yawned, stretching her limbs. She was petite, and where most pegasi were long and muscled, she had gentle curves. Stretching her wingspan showed it to be far less impressive than the wingspans of more athletic members of her kind. In fact, even in the small economy sized cabin, her wingspan could not touch the two walls. She quickly folded her wings back against her body, hiding their meager size from the room. Just as the pegasus settled back down, the compartment door opened suddenly, and a thin, gangly looking unicorn darted in. The buttermilk pony closed the door and with a light green glow, held the door shut as she peered out the compartment window. Her mane was a silvery blonde and may have been curly, if it wasn’t swept back into a tight bun. Pretty lilac streaks stood out in the mane and lanky tail. The pony’s thin frame held an overstuffed saddlebag- by some sort of miracle, which for the moment obscured her cutiemark. Magpie watched the unicorn for a moment, frozen with an uncomfortable sense that she wasn't supposed to be there. When it was clear that the intruder was oblivious to her, she coughed, quietly. Pale ears twitched, but the stranger still seemed fixated on staring out of the small glass pane on the door. Curiosity (and a fair bit of concern) stoked, Magpie straightened, and called out to the unicorn. “Hey?” The thin pony swiveled around, revealing a pair of sharp, rose eyes glaring behind the half moon glasses which balanced on her square muzzle. “Who are you?” the unicorn bristled, giving Magpie a suspicious look. The pegasus offered a smile in return, trying to appear unfazed by the rude attitude. After all, she lived in Manehattan. Ponies there could be...foul. “Magpie Muse,” she answered offering a hoof. The unicorn eyed the other pony with obvious discomfort as she muttered what sounded like a choice selection of curse words. Muse’s muzzle wrinkled as she dropped her hoof- manners didn’t go far with this one. The pegasus felt her wings tighten up against her sides in a stubborn, tense resolution that whatever came out of the pony's mouth, one thing was certain: Magpie Muse wasn't going anywhere. She had claimed the compartment first. This unicorn would be sorely mistaken if she thought Muse was just going to leave. “I guess this is alright,” the unicorn finally burst out, levitating her bags to the overhead and proceeding to violently stuff them in the small space despite the bags threatening to burst at the seams. Her eyes fixed on Muse again. “I normally don’t like traveling with strangers.” “I’m not a stranger.” “….What?” The unicorn’s ears twitched as she regarded Muse carefully. Her lips pursed together, the unicorn obviously trying (with increasing frustration) to place Muse’s face. “I introduced myself. I can’t be a stranger if you know my name.” The pegasus grinned in what she thought was a charming and pacifying manner. The unicorn considered the sentiment carefully, looking somewhat disgruntled by the chipper pony. To Muse’s shock, the pony relaxed, a tiny smile forming as the unicorn offered a hoof. “I’m Ivory Spire.” The pegasus blinked, eying the unicorn’s off-white body. “…Ivory?” Muse pursed her lips together in scrutiny, “you know, you look more…creamy.” The smile vanished, replaced with a tired scowl worn with the ease of years of practice. “You are extremely funny,” Ivory grumbled under her breath as she hopped onto the bench opposite to Magpie. Silence built up between the two. Muse let her head smoosh against the window, watching the passing landscape. Out of the corner of her eyes, Muse noticed the unicorn trying to subtly check out the pegasus’ flank. The grey pony stifled a snicker at the attempt. Some ponies were so awkward about checking a new pony for their mark. Magpie imagined putting cutie marks on the flank of ponies must have been quite amusing for the Creator. “…You aren’t a weather pony?” Ivory asked, sounding surprised. Now it was Muse’s turn to look disgruntled. “Yeah, because all pegasi are into weather control, just like you must be some research egghead judging from the horn sprouting from your face,” Magpie rolled her eyes, tightening her wings against her. “I am.” “What?” “I work for the museum in Trottingham.” The unicorn’s matter-of-fact statement kicked all the air out of Muse’s snark. The two sat in silence, avoiding each others' gaze. The train rattled along, unconcerned with the two ponies desperately trying to avoid each other's eyes. “Oh," Muse finally muttered. “An archivist, really. It’s. Quite egghead-y.” Muse cringed inwardly, “…Oh.” Talk about hoof in mouth. What was she even doing, using egghead as an insult? Her cheeks burned with shame. She was no rough-talking pegasus from the clouds. Her cutie mark, proudly worn, was a silver quill in the shape of a question mark, hovering over a black inkblot. Who was she to call names? The train rattled on in spite of the tense stillness of the pair. “I like books,” Muse said suddenly, defensively. “I’m sure.” “No, really, I write.” “Books?” the voice held a note of cautious interest. “Well. No. I haven't...finished anything.” “…” The unicorn risked a sidelong glance at Magpie, before looking back out the window. “…I see.” “Well I mean, I write lots of things. Plays. Stories. Oral Tradition.” Ivory stared at Muse with a carefully blank face. Celestia damn it all, why couldn’t Muse have just stopped talking. She wasn’t even trying now. The pegasus buried her head in her hooves in frustration and embarrassment. The conversation seemed to have died, mercifully. The two stared out the windows beside them, determined to ignore the other pony in the claustrophobic compartment. Magpie shifted, settling down, trying to nod off. Still, something itched in the back of her head. Like why an archivist from Trottingham was heading to Los Pegasus. Or why Ivory had been so tense looking out the window earlier. No, she told herself firmly while fidgeting in the awful seat. No more talking. She sighed audibly, earning another look from Ivory. Their eyes met, and then quickly fixated on something else. The itch nagged. “It’s a form of writing,” Muse shot out loudly. The noise surprised both ponies. Ivory gave her a wide, startled look. Muse groaned inwardly, “they- they aren’t books, of course. But they’re still writing.” “What are you talking about?” Ivory asked, looking lost and baffled. “Plays. Ponies write them. Just like books.” The two stared at each other. “Will you be seeing a show in Los Pegasus?” Muse demanded in a quavering voice, unable to let her tirade die quietly now that Ivory’s scrutiny was upon her. The stare continued, each desperate for the exchange to end. Finally Ivory spoke. “Uhm. No. Sorry?” They eyed each other, testing if the apology was satisfactory. Finally they both sat back and blinked. Embarrassed, Muse laid down, moving until her back was to the unicorn. Eventually, Magpie relaxed, hearing the soft, heavy breathing of a pony fast asleep. She rested her head against the pane sleepily. It had been a long day for her. All she wanted was just a few blissful hours to get well-needed sleep. Blearily, her amber eyes looked up at the stars overhead. Funny, she thought as she snuggled into a tight ball, she thought there were supposed to be more stars visible in the countryside. This time she closed her eyes, and willed herself to sleep. The dark sky overhead watched the train as it chugged across the desert. The air was still, the animals had stayed in their dens this night. They could sense the foreboding nature of the stars tonight. Equestria’s creatures shuddered, their eyes instinctively avoiding the sky, as another star winked out. - - -   Muse was woken by a distant scream. Her eyes began to crack open, the young pegasus barely having a moment before being bombarded by the red lights and the acrid smell of smoke. Muse smacked her lips together, her mouth full of the coppery taste of blood. Her head was pounding. Everything felt like it was in slow motion. As she tried to move her heavy head, her vision blurred, jagged and confused. She looked up to see the bench she had been sleeping on before. Beneath her she felt broken glass. Confused, she lifted her head, and distantly became aware that sometime during the trip the ceiling had become the floor. She stared at the lantern beside her, spilling oil and flame. It used to be harmlessly dangling above her. BAM. Muse’s world tipped upside down as the carriage once again went tumbling over and over with sudden force. Her body ragdolled against the metal walls and the broken bench until it came to a stop. Further down the train, she heard the horrific screech of metal tearing apart, and the screams of ponies. The tiny compartment was washed in heat and flickering orange light from fire. The pegasus stumbled to her feet, looking for an exit. Her ears flattened against the sounds of terror-filled ponies, fighting against the panic rising in her chest. Smoke filled the compartment full of broken glass and splintered wood. Glass? Magpie started, heading to one of the shattered windows. The pony stuck her head out the tiny window. It’d be a tight fit, but she’d risk a few bruises and scrapes to get out of this train. The pony put a hoof on the edge and struggled to lift her way out. In return, Muse felt a stabbing pain, and screaming, she fell back to the floor. Shards of glass pierced the center of her front hoof and slashed her sides, blood leaking out freely. Whimpering, she sat back and raised her hoof to her mouth. Her teeth clamped on the largest shard in her hoof, and eyes watering, Muse pulled the piece out, letting it drop to her hooves. The pony let out a single shaky whine of pain, then quickly plucked the rest of the glass from her hoof. The bitter taste of blood filled her mouth. The grinding sound of something within the train collapsing brought the pegasus back to the need of an escape route. The glass in her side would have to wait. Tenderly, the pony put pressure on her injured hoof, whimpering at the throbbing pain. Muse cursed herself, too foolish and eager to check for glass. She stumbled over to where the door had been, only to find a wall. The pegasus stared at it blankly, scraping at the wall with her good hoof. Something touched her back leg and Magpie leapt into the air in fear with a strangled yelp. She looked down at the cream colored unicorn, lying crumpled on the floor in a puddle of blood. Ivory looked at the pegasus, and pointed up. Magpie followed her gaze, and blushed to see the door just above her. Right. She’d been running on the ceiling. The pegasus poised to take off, and froze, landing back on the ground. “Oh Tartarus,” Muse looked back at the larger pony. The unicorn avoided her gaze weakly. The grey pony bit her lip. She couldn’t just leave Ivory to die. “Can you move?” the pegasus asked. Ivory looked back at Magpie’s question in confusion. “What?” “Good enough,” Magpie moved closer, wrapping her front legs around the unicorn’s midsection. Her wings spread out and began flapping, straining against the weight. The cabin around them gave a sudden lurch. The pair dropped back to the ground as the door splintered and shot off its hinges. A stallion, his fur possibly yellow beneath the blood and the ash and the scarlet burns covering his body, fell to the ground still shrieking in panic, his wings flared out, singed and smoking slightly. “Please, please, help me. H-Help me!” The pegasus quivered, crawling towards the two on bleeding stumps. Muse cringed away, the smell of burning hair suffocating her. She watched the stallion crawl towards them, eyes fixated on the sight of his front legs, ending in ragged stumps of meat at the knees. Every time he moved, she could see more blood pulse out of his stumps, and the more he crawled the more his body became slick with his own blood. Instead of gagging, or screaming, or fleeing the horrific sight, Muse simply stared, shock giving her a numbed edge. Where were his legs? She wondered. What was happening? Why didn’t he stop crawling? He had wings after all. Then, an idea stuck her, clicking into place solidly. “Can you fly?” she asked, approaching the pony. Perhaps, with this pegasus’ help, all three could escape from the wreckage. Two sets of wings, a unicorn’s magic, that had to be enough to fly to the nearest emergency exit, force it open and spill out into the clean, safe air. It would work. They would live. “Don’t let them take me,” the whispers came out ragged, flecks of blood dribbling past the pegasus’ lips. “Don’t let them…” Muse frowned, moving closer, coughing in the haze of smoke. “Hey, hey, calm down. We’re getting out of here. W-What’s your name?” she asked, tying to sound nice and calm but instead feeling gruff and pushy. She could smell his blood, and his skin cooking from the burns. Her fur everywhere bristled nervously. She felt a cautious tap from her left. “M-Magpie,” Ivory whispered in a high pitched whisper that sang with fear. “M-M-Magpie. The door. The door.” The grey pegasus looked back at Ivory, glimpsing her wide eyes and her ears flattened against the unicorn’s skull. Then she followed the unicorn’s gaze to the doorway. Muse froze, seized with sudden alarm. Creeping, slithering past the doorway into their cabin was a large scarlet tentacle, flesh ugly and mottled. It was covered in bumps and scars, and moved like a hideous snake. It felt its way down the wall towards the ponies, searching for something warm and wriggling to snatch up as a prize. The unsettling thing moved at a slow, confident pace of a predator, old to the game of the hunt. Whatever the appendage belonged to, it was used to methodically searching for its cowering prey. Instead of suckers, Muse could see a flash of long, black barbs every time the tentacle adjusted its course. She shivered, understanding where the stallion’s legs went. “M-Magpie,” Ivory’s voice warbled uncertainly, “W-Wuh-What?” The injured pegasus noticed the sudden change in the room and he turned slightly, looking past him. Then the stallion screamed. “TAKE ME WITH YOU. HURRY!” he shrieked, flopping and crawling towards the mares. The tentacle’s slow crawl stopped and it shot towards the sound and movement. There was a sickening squelch as the barbs sank into the screaming stallion’s flesh. The fleshy arm began dragging its prey back out of the door. “YOU BITCHES! CELESTIA DAMN YOU. YOU STUPID FUCKING-“ The insults were pierced by a gurgling howl as the tentacle rippled and squeezed. Bones crunched and snapped, followed by the slippery sound of the pony’s intestines spilling to the ground. A spray of blood coated the cabin and a dull, meaty thud sounded as the pegasus’ bottom half fell to the ground. Muse finally saw the stallion’s cutie mark: a filing cabinet. He must have been an incredibly boring pony, Muse thought as she stared at the pile of ragged flesh, organs spilling out and cracked, ugly bones peaking through. The stench of death and feces made the air even harder to breathe in. Ivory finally snapped, a scream breaking out of her muzzle. Two more scarlet, growth covered arms appeared at the doorway, bobbing there as if listening. “RUN-” Muse snapped out of her frozen state. She rammed her head into the unicorn’s side, forcing Ivory’s hooves to move toward the window. Glass or not, this was it. The lankier pony struggled, straining to fit through the small window. Tears sprang from Muse’s eyes as she struggled to shove Ivory through. Out of the corner of her eyes she saw the tentacle crawling towards them. She got the dark sense that Something was playing with the mares. Her breath came out in short, fearful whinnies. Finally Ivory’s legs went through and Muse dove though the window after them. Ivory seemed to have regained enough of her senses to wrap Muse’s hooves in green light and try to help levitate her out. “Hurry Muse,” Ivory grunted. “They’re coming. They’re-“ Muse glanced over her shoulder, hesitating in fear as she saw the muscles in the closest tentacle ripple, like a snake coiling before it strikes. The hesitation was a mistake. She saw a flash, and then felt pain as the barbs struck her skin. “Ivory!” she yelped, straining against her captor. Ivory straightened; her heart pounding as her magic wavered. The unicorn wrapped a shard of glass in her magic and with as much force as she had in her, stabbed it into the tentacle. It recoiled in pain, releasing the pegasus, who screwed up her face and forced her way through the rest of the window. The pair leapt off the edge of the train and as soon as their hooves found dirt, they ran. Screams followed them as they fled into the desert. Suddenly during their running, Ivory stopped. Muse slowed, and turned to console the unicorn. She too, felt like crying. But the unicorn wasn’t crying. The pony was instead staring up at the sky in horror. “Muse.” “We can’t stop, Ivory, we need to keep running.” “Muse, look at the sky.” The pegasus sighed and looked up. “…Where are the stars?” she asked. > Seeking Life > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The sky above them was black and empty, save for a shining moon beaming down at them. The nominally guiding night sky was suddenly a silent void that seemed to suck the light out of the tiny world it enveloped. Muse shivered as a stiff breeze blew through her coat, ruffling her feathers. “What’s happening?” She whispered to Ivory. The two exchanged glances, and then looked back at the wreckage of the train. In the distance, the gutted train glowed orange from the fire. Screams still sounded from the survivors still fighting back death. Towering above the carcass of the train, obscured by the thick smoke to the air, the ponies saw several huge beasts ripping the carriages apart. Where Muse reckoned a head should be, she glimpsed the familiar movement of tentacles. There was a pregnant pause between the mares. Quietly, they both remembered the other passengers who had given them a nod, a smile, a pleasant greeting. Somewhere in the wreckage, some of them were still alive. If the two were heroes, they would save the other passengers; the mares, the foals, everypony. They glanced at each other, Muse feeling a leaden weight in her heart as they each reached the same conclusion. The two mares, still bleeding and singed from fire, turned and ran. --- “Did they come from the Everfree forest?” asked Muse while she hunched over, letting Ivory pick glass out of her sides. Ivory hesitated, biting her lip as she worked a piece of glass out. The pegasus squeaked, and cringed a bit. The piece made an innocent tinkle as it was tossed in a dark corner of the cave they had found shelter in. It turned out, running blindly though the desert had been a terrible idea. Once the adrenaline faded, the exertion made their injuries even worse. After realizing they were in the middle of a desert without aid, The mares found, and squirmed into a narrow cave opening, and there, they tried to regroup. “Not likely,” Ivory replied. “The Princesses wouldn’t let those things exist in Equestria.” “Tartarus then?” returned Muse. The unicorn’s ears flicked, uncertainly. She gave Muse a once over, and nudged her, signaling that the last of the glass was removed. “How would Tartarus get opened though? The Princesses wouldn’t let that happen…Especially Princess Twilight,” Ivory bit her lip again after finishing her thought. Silence fell between them. Nothing about this evening seemed like something the Princesses would allow if they were able to do anything about it. “This is really bad then,” Muse stated, sitting up a little. Her back leg that was attacked by the tentacles stung, but there wasn’t much to do about it. It looked like she was going to be exercising her wings for awhile. “Maybe a dark mage opened Tartarus,” Ivory whimpered, “Wide enough to let those things out. I bet the Princesses are working it out now. By morning, everything will be okay. Those things will be back in Tartarus.” “But what about the stars?” the pegasus looked towards the crack of a cave opening where they could see a sliver of the empty sky. “M-Maybe the Night Princess is redecorating the sky,” the mare’s voice wavered, struggling to find a mental footing. “Luna can’t move the stars. The Maker made them for navigation,” she rolled her eyes at the unicorn irritably. Little pegasi learned that tale before they could fly. Ivory stamped her hoof. “I suppose you know everything about the Princess. You’re best friends, right?” the unicorn snorted back, nerves fraying. Muse shut her mouth, holding back the wave of petty retorts. The other mare was close to a breakdown. The pegasus stayed quiet, waiting for her indignation to simmer down. “What do we do, then?” she asked. Ivory glanced at her from the corner she had retreated to. The pony looked at the dirt silently. “We wait here. The Princesses will work it out. They always do.” The two ponies curled up as silence settled between them. Muse stared out at the black night. Wait for the Princesses. She had to admit, it was reasonable. It’s what everyone did, really. It had been well over sixty years since the ascension of Princess Twilight, and the return of the Night Princess. Together, Princesses Celestia, Luna, Cadence and Twilight vanquished nearly every evil thing to creep into Equestria. They were incredibly powerful, astonishingly good and devoted to the ponies they ruled. And until the past few decades, the Heroes of Equestria, five mares who adventured and fought with Princess Twilight, helped protect the kingdom. That was well in the past though. Muse recalled when she was a little filly, all the pegasi in Equestria and abroad had wept at the funeral of one of the Heroes. "The greatest pegasus to live-" Muse’s father had muttered, switching off the broadcast. "A world without rainbows" the newspapers had cried. It had been a long time before the weather pegasi let rainbows appear after rainfall. Except on the anniversary of her death. As a quiet reminder of the race’s love for their Rainbow Dash. Equestria today was low on heroes. Muse thought that maybe, one of the original Heroes still lived, somewhere. She couldn’t remember who, off the top of her head. And really, did it matter? A creaky, old pony wouldn’t stand a chance against those tentacles. The pegasus sighed and rolled onto her back, staring at the cave’s ceiling absently. She had never slept in a cave before. Normally, the opportunity would be met with a sense of excitement and adventure. In the past, Magpie had always enjoyed the thrill of focusing and giving in to new experiences. It was a game she played with herself- seeing what tiny details she could catalog and memorize. Sniffing the air, Muse closed her eyes as she took in the stagnant, moist air. There was an earthy musk of lichen and mold, and mud, an underneath that, the scent of sulfur. She could hear the lonely drip-drops of water from stalactites hitting the cave floor. The details didn't help her forget the train though. Those details were far more vibrant. The pony curled up tighter, her honey colored eyes looking back into the darkness of the cave. For awhile, she was silent. “Ivory?” she called suddenly. Silence. Muse’s nerves rattled in distress. She got up and took a few steps towards Ivory’s corner, calling louder, “Ivory!” “What.” The tired growl made Muse smile. The pegasus folded her wings. “I was worried something got you,” She whispered apologetically. There was silence again in Ivory’s corner. Had she fallen asleep? Or was the unicorn disgruntled by Muse’s concern? “Well,” Ivory’s voice started hesitantly. “I’m fine.” The two settled back down, trying to find the spots they had already warmed with their bodies. After a moment, Ivory called out, quietly, “What are you thinking about?” Muse stretched, looking around the cave again. “I was wondering if you reckoned we might be in a Diamond Dog cave,” she replied, resting her head on her folded forelegs. “I don’t know the difference, if there is one.” A green light filled the cave, emanating from the unicorn’s horn. Ivory stood and looked around unsteadily, checking for lurking Diamond Dogs waiting to gobble up the tired ponies. Or worse, Magpie added darkly, the image of the mottled tentacles stuck in her mind. Screams kept echoing in her ears. Nervously, Ivory crept over towards Muse. “Maybe. Maybe we should stick close,” the unicorn said, trying to sound matter-of-fact as she settled down beside Muse. “Just in case.” The presence of another body at Muse’s back comforted the pony with its added warmth. Blearily, she turned her head to watch the cave entrance. Her eyelids grew heavy with every blink, and in a moment, she slipped away from the world. --- Light, piercing the darkness of Muse’s dreams, was the thing that finally roused her from a dead-pony’s sleep. She grimaced, moving her head from the blinking light. The next thing she noticed was the dry sandpaper-y feeling in her mouth. She smacked her lips around, trying to wet them, but all that came of it was the uncomfortable feeling that they would need to leave the cave sooner than Ivory thought. Water, the pegasus thought mournfully. Sitting up, she stretched her wings, blinking in the light. Then she finally noticed the ponies weren’t alone. “Luna’s tits,” with a few flaps Muse hovered in the air, staring at the floor in horror. Only patches of the cave floor peeked through the wriggling carpet of slithering horrors. Terror squeezed her heart and her sight was replaced with visions of the night before. Those things from the train. They had found the ponies. The two silly, foolish ponies who thought they could run and hide from such terrible monsters. Any minute now she expected to feel those long barbs pierce her skin like hungry needles, dragging her down to the floor where the mass of scarlet arms would slowly crawly over her, ripping her skin, her muscle, tearing into her bones. Muse’s breath hitched, and even in the dry heat, she trembled, seeing the stallion’s body ripped apart again. She had to go, she had to escape. The pony darted towards the cave entrance, beginning to scramble out of it. Behind her, Ivory screamed. Muse felt a brief pang of guilt. Leaving a pony to die like that… The stallion screamed again in Muse's ears and her nostrils remembered the smell of blood and waste spilling from the body. But it was too late to save the unicorn now. Muse was pulling herself out of the narrow opening of the cave when Ivory squealed: “I HATE snakes!” Ivory’s bony body slammed into Muse's back end. “Let me out, let me OUT!” The unicorn shoved and the pair tumbled down the hill, landing sprawled out on the sand. Ivory shivered, getting up and shaking herself off. “Hhhhhhruagh,” she shivered in disgust. “Snakes.” Muse sat up slowly, avoiding looking at the unicorn. Snakes. Her ear rotated towards the cave, where she heard some vaguely confused and annoyed hissing. Of course it was snakes. Hiding from the desert sun. Her hoof made little circles in the sand. She was just going to abandon Ivory. The pony she saved from the train. The pony who had saved her from the tentacle. How quickly ponies became monsters, Muse berated herself, miserably. “Muse,” the unicorn started, her rose eyes wide in concern. “Look at the sky.” Muse looked up, lips parting in surprise. Where there should have been a bright blue sky, to see birds singing in, and puffy white clouds drifting it; there was something new. The sky was muted, and had a dull, dirty tint to it. The sun still shone, but its divine brightness appeared to be stifled by something. The air felt still and stagnant. Looking around, the desert had the same muted wash over it. It was absurd, surreal. The world just didn’t change colors. A lump lodged itself in Muse’s throat, and her wings tensed restlessly; wanting to escape. She wanted to fly to run, to find a place safe from the drained looking Equestria. She was afraid, wildly so. The nightmares from last night resurfaced, twisting her stomach into intricate knots. “You think this is still something from Tartarus?” Muse asked, wrapping her wings tight around her. “Maybe it’s a spell Princess Twilight cast. She casts a lot of spells,” Ivory whispered, unconvinced by her own suggestion. Muse stood, looking at the ground to avoid staring at the strange sky. “A spell…yeah, maybe,” she said, doubtfully. They needed to get out of the desert. They needed to find somepony to tell them that the Princesses were on top of it. That Equestria was safe. Muse’s ears flattened to her skull: Equestria was always safe. Always. Yet, now, she felt like a little filly stuck on a wayward cloud by herself, with no ponies or parents in sight. The pegasus, lifted her head and looked up at the unicorn, wincing at the sight. The pony was streaked with ash, blood and sweat. Her bun had come undone and now her mane fell down in limp, lifeless blonde and lilac locks that halfheartedly curled at the ends. Half of her forehead was crusted over with blood, and her body was covered in scratches and gouges from the window glass. The pegasus must look just as gross. Muse noticed that the unicorn's glasses were still there, though cracked and missing half a lens. “Can you see okay?” Muse asked in concern. Ivory sighed, removing her glasses and tossing them to the side. The unicorn bit her lip, clearly worried, “Things up close are fine. The horizon is one big fog though.” “I won’t go too far, then,” Muse promised. And she meant it. The pegasus felt responsible for the unicorn, in part for last night, and in part for Muse’s instinctive reaction to leave the unicorn behind. There would be no more of that, she resolved. “So, what now?” Ivory asked, looking around at the hazy sand-filled wasteland. It seemed to stretch on for miles. Muse tested the pressure on her two bad hooves, whimpering softly at the pain. She’d be flying today. As for where to fly to, Muse ran her dry tongue over the roof of her mouth. “We need to find water,” she decided. The pegasus looked around, trying to get her bearings. Ivory clued in and also began looking around, carefully. “There’s a few little clouds up there,” Ivory pointed out, squinting her eyes. “Why don’t you go fly up there and squeeze some water out.” Her wings snapped to Muse’s sides in trepidation. Both ponies looked at the sky, considering the idea. Muse didn’t trust it. She felt sure that if she flew up there, the dull sky would strike her down, or burn her; like the old ponytale of a unicorn who tried to touch the sun with gossamer wings. “I don’t think there are enough clouds to get anything decent,” the pegasus replied hesitantly. It was true, she told herself. Wispy little clouds held little water. Ivory nodded, accepting the answer, and the smaller pony sighed in relief, letting go of the mounting defense she had begun to build in her head. The unicorn squinted, judging the desert quietly. “We came from that direction,” the unicorn said after a moment. She thought a bit longer. Sitting down, Ivory lifted a rock with her magic and made an ugly, rough map of Equestria. “We’re here, in the San Palamino desert” Ivory added a few lines crossing the map. “These are the main railroads in Equestria. Now, before we started crossing the desert, we stopped here, in Appleloosa,” she circled a vague area where the city should be. Muse snorted, shaking her head. “It would take all day to reach Appleloosa. At least!” the pegasus protested. She doubted they’d make it a day in this heat without a drink. Ivory looked up and gave Magpie a very irritated look that was unsettlingly similar to the look teachers reserved for Muse as a filly. “There’s a river that intersects with Appleloosa, and goes off in this direction…” Ivory gestured, “if we head…that way, you should be able to spot it from the air eventually.” “Oh,” The pegasus blinked. That was much more reasonable. Ivory nodded to Muse and headed off. With a few flaps, Muse coasted after the unicorn. “How’d you know all that stuff?” Magpie asked, curiously, “I thought you were a glorified librarian.” “Last summer I helped archive maps of Equestrian history, at the Trottingham Historical Society,” Ivory answered, beaming a bit. “I guess staring at townships and maps of railroad expansion for hours on end stuck some tidbits in my head.” “Impressive,” Muse admitted. “I can barely navigate my way out of a paper bag.” “Some pegasus you are,” Ivory smiled. Magpie harrumphed, ducking her head in annoyance. “I’m going to fly higher,” she said, though not too high, she added to herself. “Start looking for your river.” The pegasus paused for a moment, poised to rise into the sky. Hooves dropping to the ground, Muse tipped her head at Ivory. “I wasn’t lying,” she said, uncomfortably. Ivory stared at the pegasus blankly, not comprehending why Muse seemed so nervous and hesitant. Muse pushed further, “The clouds. I wasn’t lying about them. You know that, right?” Ivory’s face crinkled into a confused smile. “Of course?” she replied, eyebrows quirking. Muse sighed, and nodded, then leapt into the air. - - - The sun beat down on the earth with dry, lip cracking blasts of heat, with an intensity Muse had never really experienced before. The occasional gusts of wind did little to ease the pain. Instead, the wind trickled her salty sweat into the scabs, which stung angrily. Sand blew in her face, coating her sweaty fur with sand, which then dried, and itched. Her hooves be damned, Muse found herself making frequent stops to trot beside Ivory. The pegasus lied and made an excuse about checking on the unicorn, but really, the dehydration was beginning to make it hard to keep going. She wondered if maybe finding in a cave and curling up to die there wouldn’t have been a better choice. Distantly, Muse recollected last night’s cave. It was so cool there, cool and damp. What she would give to be back there, relaxing in the cool mud and- Muse dropped out of the air. “Our cave had water in it. I remember hearing it!” Muse exclaimed in a cracking shout. “How stupid-“ “There were snakes all over that cave,” Ivory dismissed airily. “How would we have dealt with them? All for what could have been a couple of gross puddles.” “It would have been something-“ “Well, the river will be something.” If we FIND the river, Muse sullenly growled in her mind. If we don’t die here first. Anger fueled her liftoff, which blew sand into Ivory’s eyes. Looking down, Muse glimpsed the unicorn coughing and rubbing at her eyes. The petty act made Muse feel better about their situation. Cheered up, the pony coasted through the air, soaring higher to stare at the horizon. How could Ivory be so airy and quick to dismiss what might have been their only chance of survival? The unicorn’s refusal to acknowledge their dire situation was beginning to dig its way beneath Muse’s skin. Ivory had fallen apart in fear and panic last night, at the fire and the blood and those…things. She only got out because Muse kept it together. Muse shoved the unicorn out the window, kept Ivory running until they were safe. But then as soon as the cave enveloped them, the unicorn started spouting off airy optimisms. Muse could hear Ivory's assurances in her nasally, snobby accent. ‘Oh the Princesses will save us.’ ‘Everything will be fine.’ ‘We don’t need the only water we have found in this blistering desert; SNAKES are there.’ What happens if something attacked them? What if monsters returned? How was Muse supposed to protect somepony so stupidly blind to why they should be afraid? The pegasus was scared that Ivory’s dismissal of the threats surrounding the two would get the pony killed. Then Muse would be alone, with absolutely nopony else in this desert but flesh-eating monsters that destroy trains. Or worse, what if Ivory snapped to reality when danger was rearing its head, and then she lost it again? The pony lost herself in quiet frets and fears, running over scenario after scenario. She saw herself in those tentacles being ripped apart in the night again and again, while Ivory cowered in the dirt. She saw them finding salvation at the end of the desert, and then saw the mares dying in the desert, never to be found again. Eventually the morbid imaginings began to unsettle the grey and blue pony, and she looked around the eerie, dim landscape. Find the river, she told herself. Her previous thoughts darkened her mind again with pessimism. Her stomach felt like lead as she scanned the world, preparing for defeat. Instead, Muse’s jaw dropped. There it was. Glittering in the distance, a winding streak of blue cutting through the endless sand, the river beckoned Muse to its bosom. All the relief and joy of the sight was snipped short by Muse’s initial reaction. Ivory was right. Airy, frustratingly calm Ivory Spire the librarian was right about the stupid river. “Well shit,” the pegasus flapped her wings, reluctant to announce the sight, to reward Ivory’s close-minded actions. She was tempted to not tell, to hold out on her pettiness just a little longer. Muse looked down, checking on Ivory. The unicorn trudged forward, her head hanging down. Every once in awhile, she paused, looking around like a nervous rabbit wary of wolves. Ivory might have been able to guess what direction would be the best choice to survival, but without glasses distant things were scary blurs. The mare watched as Ivory squinted up at the sky, looking for her companion. The unicorn’s hope was on Muse. Guilt nibbled at Muse again, and she swooped down. . “Ivory! The river’s just up ahead,” she exclaimed, as Ivory’s head perked up. “You were right.” “Really? It’s not a mirage?” the unicorn asked hesitantly. Muse grinned, shaking her head. Ivory returned the smile, a crack of relief and exhaustion showing on her face. “Thank Celestia. I was starting to worry. I’m so tired…” “Well, get a move on then, or I'll drink the whole thing before you get a shot,” Muse nudged the pony. Together they trotted the final stretch of angry heat and sand. They smelled the water first. The fresh scent of water and reeds wafted though the air. The sand became mud under their shaky hooves. Muse plunged straight into the water, face first. The water felt better than a healer pony’s magic. The pegasus broke the surface of the water and let out a sigh, swimming along the surface. Ivory had gotten knee-deep into the water and then collapsed. The unicorn stayed there, soaking in the water with her eyes shut. A couple of relieved tears slipped down the milky pony’s cheeks. Maybe all that optimism was just an attempt to be brave, to keep Ivory from fraying away at the nerves. Muse felt compelled to do something, to try to cheer the unicorn up. To do something normal and not driven by fear of death. Or maybe to simply relax both Ivory and herself. Feeling inspired by the cool water, Magpie drifted towards the unicorn mischievously. “Don’t,” Ivory had opened an eye to watch the approaching mare. Muse flashed a toothy grin, paddling closer. Wet cerulean locks fell in the mare’s face as she glanced at Ivory slyly. “Don’t what?” Muse asked innocently. The unicorn tipped her head to one side as she regarded Muse. “Whatever you’re thinking of, featherbrain.” Grinning, Muse replied, “I’m just makin’ sure my buddy Milky Spire is alright.” Ivory bristled, “Milky?” “I mean, we survived the desert, and a cave of eeeevil snakes,“ Muse rolled her eyes, stifling a smile. “Are you being funny? I’m not laughing,” The haughty unicorn sniffed. Muse gestured at Ivory. “Mare, you’re such an stiff little egghead. Know what I think you need?” Both of Ivory’s ruby eyes were fixated on the pegasus. “What?” Muse leaned closer to Ivory, “To cool off.” “Yeah?” Ivory’s eyes narrowed into a steely glare. Muse gave an affirmative nod. “Yup.” The two mares acted simultaneously. Muse spread her wings and sent a mighty splash of water towards the unicorn who ducked with a squeal and lit up her horn, magically splashing the pegasus. Muse laughed and chased after the unicorn, beating her wings to drench the unicorn. Ivory spluttered, looking even bonier after getting hit by Muse’s wave of water. She glared up at Muse who fluttered in the air. After a moment, a childish grin cracked over Ivory’s face. The next moment her magic splashed water at the pegasus who fell to the river bank and sprinted away from the unicorn. The pair continued taunting and splashing each other, their shouts and laughter the only sound for miles. For a few moments, the river washed away the nightmares of monsters, and legless stallions, and screams in a burning night. For a few moments, they were just two mares, who found life in the desert, and just wanted to laugh. > The Desert and a Pony With No Name > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Muse took a small drink of water from the river. She wanted to stick her whole head underwater and drink deep, but Ivory warned that drinking too much could make the ponies sick. Downstream, the unicorn was still washing the dirt, ash, blood and sweat from her coat and mane. Ivory was doing a much more thorough job than Muse had, the pegasus noted. Partly because she could levitate water to harder to reach areas; but also Ivory just seemed fussier than the other mare. Muse was content to scrub out the worst of the grime and then hope soaking in the water would get out more caked on stuff. There was no point in expending the energy to do anything more, Muse reasoned. They had water, but no food or medical supplies. Not to mention they still had no idea what was out there. She considered telling Ivory that, but the unicorn was in such a good mood, Muse didn't want to ruin it. Magpie Muse found a spot on the sand and stretched out, examining the injury to the fleshy center of her front hoof. It was still tender to touch, but at least it wasn’t infected. For now at least. Sighing, she lowered her hoof and stared out into the desert. She had to admit, there was a flicker of hope in her now, fighting to burn amidst the gnawing worry that plagued her. “So, we can get to Apploosa?” she turned her head to the unicorn. “The river runs right by it,” Ivory confirmed. She wrung her hair out with magic and trotted towards Muse. “We can just walk along the river.” The pegasus nodded, standing and stretching her wings. They were sore and stiff, unused to this amount of flying. Another thing to eat at the back of Muse's mind. The pony briefly imagined her wings failing to beat fast enough to evade some shadowy beast. She could see it snatching her from the air, and Muse could feel its massive hand begin to squeeze- constricting her until her bones shattered and drove themselves into her tender organs- "We should set off then.” Blinking, Muse trained her eyes on the horizon, adding, “Just in case.” “I’m telling you, Muse,” the creamy unicorn said walking along the shallows of the river. Muse followed after her, fluttering though the air. Ivory’s face took on a set, determined smile. “We’re going to get to Apploosa, and hear all about the Princesses taking on Tartarus.” “I bet,” Muse muttered, looking at the sky in concern. No stars. Strange light. Monsters. “Everything will be just fine.” It was becoming their manta. Muse wasn’t sure she liked that idea. They ambled along the river, enjoying the refreshing reminder that they weren't the only living thing in the desert. It was an anchor of normality, hearing the babbling current follow them as they trotted along the bank. Even Muse was lulled out of her hyper wariness by the presence of the river. The world was at least a little safe now that she knew they had water. Soon after they set out, however, Muse had begun eyeing the deeper, murkier parts of the river where cloudy silt and mud swirled around masking what may be swimming below. Anything could be done there, she had realized. It wasn't unreasonable to imagine an alien monster lurking, waiting for the ponies to split up. She cajoled and wheedled Ivory, insisting that the unicorn move further from the river. Finally Ivory Spire had had to stare the mare down, and simply wait for the flighty pegasus to grumble and take off again. Ivory's victory lasted for about an hour. “I just don’t want you to stumble into trouble while I’m in the air,” Muse complained the next time she landed for a break, her wings already begging for relief. She looked at the sky, judging the time to be mid afternoon. They wouldn’t make it to Apploosa by nightfall. Not unless they turned into a pair of Wonderbolts. Beside her, Ivory sighed, getting accustomed to the non sequitur conversation starters. “I understand that you’re worried, but reeeeally. We live in Equestria. Princess Twilight has spent the past, what, seventy years protecting all of ponykind. Sometimes things have slipped through. But really, have you ever felt unsafe?” “Yes,” Muse protested, “Last night!” “So, you were at the epicenter of one of the times things slipped through. The Princesses handle this stuff all the-“ “They weren’t from this world!” There, she had said it. Muse snorted, walking in silence. Those monsters. Those things, the way they just demolished that train, ripping ponies apart like they were irritating bugs. They weren’t right. Muse had felt it since she first saw them. She felt it when their afterimage burned in the back of Muse’s mind. They just weren’t right. “Of course they aren’t,” Ivory replied stubbornly. “They’re from Tartarus.” Muse made a very unpony-like sound, screwing her eyes shut. Exhaling as violently as she could, Muse stalked over to the river to get a drink. After a long drink, she ducked her head underwater, letting her frustration leak out into the water. Ivory nudged her. Muse blew a few angry bubbles and opened her eyes, looking at the little waving underwater plants. She smiled a little, seeing a fish dart by. It must be nice, she thought. Being a simple little fish. Ivory chose that moment to jab her hoof between Muse’s ribs. “What the buck was that for?” Muse growled, her head jerking out of the water. Ivory said nothing, and instead pointed at a distant cloud of dust. “Something is coming,” she said, blankly. The two stared at the dust cloud, Muse’s feathers all tensing and quivering. She took flight, her wings shaky and her heart beginning to erratically thump inside her chest. She shut her eyes, counting to ten. It will be alright, she told herself. We can still run, the pony reminded herself. Now, it was time to focus. The dust cloud was small, too small for the terrors by the train. It was still moving fast though. Muse doubted they could outrun whatever was headed towards them. She turned, trying to come up with a plan. A small outcrop of rocks stood out in Muse’s mind. They were close to Ivory. If the two could make it to the rocks and find a place to hide, maybe it would pass them by. Invigorated by the plan, Muse returned to the ground, where Ivory was waiting, her face a mask to whatever the unicorn was thinking. “It’s small, but fast,” Muse reported. “If we move, we can make it to some rocks-“ “What, you want to hide?” Ivory scoffed. “It could be a rescue squad.” Muse stared. “Are you bucking serious?” the pegasus stalked towards Ivory. “We are the only ponies out here who weren’t ripped to shreds by tentacles and monsters. Did you see anyone else escape that train?” “No, but-“ “We need to go,” Muse cut the unicorn off, heading towards the outcrop she had seen. Ivory didn’t budge, instead sitting down while shooting Muse a glare. Muse turned, whining in frustration. “Stop being so blind, Ivory. Do you want to die?” “You’re so worked up about the train, you aren’t thinking,” Ivory snapped. “What if it is somepony? You’d rather run around in a panic than group up with others. Maybe danger is over there, but maybe answers are too.” “Fine, you really think it’s a pony?” Muse shouted as her amber eyes narrowed into spiteful slits. “Why don’t I just go fly over to the harmless pony?” Ivory paused, only for a moment. Uncertainty and doubt flickered in her eyes in that moment. Then she tossed her mane back and huffed. “Go ahead. Prove yourself wrong then.” Muse let out a strangled cry of anger as she kicked off into the air and soared towards the dust cloud. Let Ivory eat her words, Muse thought bitterly. The pegasus hoped Ivory felt awful when the monster inevitably snatched Muse from the sky and plucked off her wings like an insect. Maybe then Ivory would learn about caution and stranger danger. The stupid unicorn would feel so guilty, getting Muse violently killed. The thought of Ivory’s mental torment consoled Muse as she flew towards certain doom. Below her, the dust cloud had stopped moving. Hovering in the air, Muse squinted, trying to make out a shape in the settling air. A dark, misshapen form sprawled on the sand, motionless. Probably a trap, Muse thought darkly. She looked back towards the river, where Ivory was undoubtedly squinting and struggling to see the action. Muse’s face contorted into a cantankerous scowl. Slowly, the pegasus flew lower, towards the shape. As she drew closer, the mare could smell burnt flesh and blood, making her stomach threaten to expel the precious water inside it. The pony coughed and covered her nose with a hoof, continuing on. Let Ivory get a taste of fear, the grey pegasus smirked to herself. Muse would just get close enough for the thing to notice her, and then Ivory had to see the monster. Her hooves found the ground, and Magpie blinked in surprise. That wasn’t supposed to happen. She looked at the still form, cautiously. Instead of a monster wriggling to consume her, there was a large, dirty looking stallion, covered in a slippery coat of sweat and lather. Muse stared at the new pony, stunned, taking her several moments to think of helping the stallion. She approached, crouching close to his face, listening to his labored gasps. His body was filthy, and coated in mud and blood. The mare eyed him for a moment, before reaching out and poking him. “Hey,” Muse whispered. “Are you alive?” Two green eyes opened, staring up at her. “W-Water,” the stallion rasped. That was enough for Muse. She wriggled beneath one of his forelegs and stood, trying to guide him to his hooves. Groggily, the stallion reacted, getting up and stumbling along. The small pegasus wobbled back to the river, her knees buckling occasionally at the weight. Each time they went down, Muse went back to shoving and prodding the stallion. There was a gnawing feeling in her gut each time he collapsed, terrified that he wouldn’t live. Whoever he was, he’d come so close to the river. He couldn’t die. If he did, it’d be Muse’s fault. Every time though, those green eyes would open, and he’d stagger back up, fighting for a few more steps. As the pair approached the river, Muse could feel Ivory’s huge eyes on them. “Shut up,” Muse growled. “Don’t say a thing.” Ivory took a few steps back, watching as Muse unceremoniously pushed the stallion into the water. He came to with a gasp and a snort, looking around wildly. He paused, looking around at the water and with a deep sigh just rested his head back against the water. Ivory and Muse glanced at each other as the stallion rolled over to drink. They had become three. The stallion was an earth pony, built tall and solid, with a deep chest and a strong muzzle. What Muse thought had been caked on patches of mud turned out to be dark reddish pinto spots over a dusty brown coat. His mane and tail were a dirty blond that fell in a long tousled mess. His cutie mark though… Ivory and Muse huddled together, watching the stallion drink and scrub the grime from his body. Muse’s bright eyes were fixated on the stallion’s flank, which might have once been fairly attractive and nice to look at. Now though, his rear was a mangled vision. The fur of his left side was burned away, and the angry red flesh beneath had a rippled, melted look. The stallion cringed whenever water touched the burns, but Muse imagined that the water had to relieve something of the pain. The other side was shredded, as though a cheese grater had been taken to it. Ragged strips of bloody flesh hung limply from shallow gouges that erased his cutie mark- his identity from existence. That flesh needed to be cut away, but neither Ivory or Muse had any idea how to go about it. For now, they just hung there, a gruesome mark of what the stallion had survived. “Ah was grabbed by…something. Some monster huge, with- it had tentacles stronger than a pony,” the stallion spoke, his green eyes resting on Muse. The pegasus blushed, looking away. Her expression must have been one of disgust, but the stallion seemed to take it in stride. “Ah was working on a train…in the conductor’s room, front of the train. The monsters- they, it struck there first. Busted right through the window. The conductor saved me- he shoved me to the side and then they snatched him up. Ah watched him-“ The stallion lost the ability to make words for a moment, standing and looking down into the swirling water. He shuffled his hooves, kicking up a cloud of mud from the bottom of the river. He cleared his throat and straightened, nodding to himself. “He was a good pony. A good pony.” The earth pony lost himself in thoughts again. Ivory and Muse glanced at each other again. Perhaps saving this pony was a bad idea. His injuries rang an alarm in Muse’s head; she had enough to worry about. How was she supposed to address those wounds? She could already smell the wounds festering. They needed to be properly cleaned and dressed. If he collapsed from the injuries, she wouldn’t be able to drag him for long. Then there was the misty-eyed look in his eyes, and the slow, depressed manner of his movements. Muse already had to deal with Ivory’s neurosis; how many other broken ponies could the mare handle? While Muse was busy evaluating how useful the stallion was to her, Ivory broke away. The light-coated mare approached the stallion, raising a hoof to touch his side. Ivory attempted to smile- though Muse suspected the mare was more used to scowling at ponies from behind books. “We were on the train too,” Ivory said, her voice strained somewhat. “We were sharing a cabin and…I was awake when it hit. I heard something slam the train off the tracks. I thought it was bandits, or buffalo-“ “An entire tribe of buffalo couldn’t hit a train that hard,” the stallion replied sharply. The pony shook his head, sighing. “No. Those things were bigger than a house. Ah saw’em rise up. They ripped the conductor carriage right off. The whole thing.” “How’d you escape?” Ivory asked, her bows furrowing together. Muse straightened, listening with active interest now. The stallion paused, his eyes getting distant, as he spoke slowly. “Ah was helping the conductor. He was an old pony, needed some help up front. Then, we noticed the sky. The stars, they were winking out. One by one. He thought it was the Night Princess up to somethin’ but…it was unnatural. Ah knew it wasn’t Luna. We didn’t know what to do, or who to call for, so we just sat there. Watching the last star go out. And then, They were there. They grabbed the conductor, gutted him and tossed his carcass away. That’s when they ripped the car off the rest of the train. Ah hit my head, was out for a minute. Next thing I know; is pain. Those barbs digging into my flank. Ah started kicking, biting, and fighting the damn things. Swung a lantern at'em, and the tentacle went up along with myself. Must have pissed them off, ‘cause they ripped me out of the train and tossed me away. Once Ah came to, Ah headed-“ the stallion paused. “Ah headed to Appleloosa.” The earth pony gave Muse a weary smile. “Ah wouldn’t have made it if it weren’t for you. Ah thank you. Both of you. Ah’ll do anything Ah can to get you both out of this desert safely.” There was an underlying sincerity in his promise that was a little scary in its intensity. His green eyes were round and grave as he looked at them both like a knight vowing his life for his maiden. Muse felt blood rise to her cheeks and a smile brightened her face. “Well then, I think we can all rest easier knowing there’s a gallant knight in our party now,” she teased, trotting towards her companions. The earth pony ducked his head, humbly. “Ah’m no knight, miss.” He answered. Muse laughed. “True knights come in all shapes and sizes,” the pegasus said, mocking his gravity. A smile quirked the stallion’s lips, in quiet exasperation. “Well then, what do Ah call my maidens fair?” he replied, playing up his new role. Muse offered her hoof. “Magpie Muse.” The stallion took it, nodding. He looked to Ivory next, taking her hoof. “Ivory Spire.” The stallion’s spotted face crinkled curiously. “Ivory?” He questioned, looking at Muse and back to the other mare. “Funny- Ah took you as more of a buttermilk-“ Ivory’s polite demeanor vanished with a scowl, and the unicorn glowered at the two as Muse struggled to hide her laughter. “Yeah,” Ivory huffed; finally speaking after the stallion’s worried expression softened her enough to stop her from snarling. “I get that, occasionally.” The unicorn fumed for a moment longer, before snapping out. “What do we call you?” “Dusty,” the stallion smiled, thought this time the sweetness didn’t reach his eyes. Muse thought his eyes for a moment flickered towards his mangled flank. “…Just Dusty, miss.” The pegasus hid her curiosity in a smile and a playful nudge to Dusty’s ribs. “Well Ser Dusty, let’s go to Appleloosa,” she gestured to the horizon. “I think we could all use a stronger drink than water.” “Ah’ll buy,” Dusty joked, smiling for real this time. Ivory shook her head. “I have a feeling that she would drink your pockets dry,” the unicorn quipped. Muse drifted in the air above them, grinning devilishly. “I could certainly drink more than your delicate unicorn senses could comprehend,” she retorted. Ivory’s horn lit up. “Come down here and say that, featherhead,” the unicorn taunted. Muse stuck out her tongue. “What are you going to do to me, revoke my library card?” Dusty chuckled lowly. The mares shared a smile, in higher spirits than they had been in since before the train. They weren’t alone anymore. They were going to Appleloosa. Everything was going to be just fine.   --- “Nah, my family isn’t a train family,” Dusty was saying as he and Ivory walked along. “But Ah wanted to experience things other than what the family business was all about. Ah wanted to see what was out there, see what work Ah could do other than what my cutie mark said Ah should do.” Muse flew above them, able to hear snippets of their conversation, though she found herself uninterested in joining the conversation. Instead she found herself thinking about mustangs. Mustangs were a very, very old type of earth pony- or so Muse thought. For some reason or another, they always claimed to be distinct from regular earth ponies, and much of their culture and beliefs were kept far from regular pony ears. And of course, because of this there were hundreds of ponylore tales about mustangs and why they were different, and why they weren't quite ponies. There were tales about their supposed lack of cutie marks, to tales about how they were a group of earth ponies that refused to come together in the founding of Equestria. Muse never quite believed them; they all seemed to be hellbent on displacing mustangs as 'something else'. Sometimes Muse suspected that Equestria was slightly...xenophobic. Below, Ivory had made some sort of reply. Muse caught Dusty's baritone reply. “It didn’t sit right with me- letting my cutie mark determine what work Ah could do. It might be my destiny, but it doesn’t mean Ah have to drop everything to do what my destiny says is best for me. Ah think we ponies take things too literally. Maybe the Creator wanted us to look deeper within ourselves to discover what our cutie marks mean; and more importantly, what else we have in us beyond that.” Ivory stopped walking, letting the stallion take a few steps before he paused to look at her expression. Muse smirked to herself, imagining the stricken horror of the unicorn briefly before her thoughts again began to drift. Most of the tales agreed that the desert was the land of the mustangs. The mustangs, and the buffalo- both outcasts even in their own rightful homes. A twinge of guilty sadness made Muse focus back on the desert. A black speck stood out from the golden wasteland. While Muse had been daydreaming, the three ponies had been steadily growing closer to it. The sight of it made Muse's wings lock for a moment, the pegasus scrambling as she fell before she recovered and began soaring down to her companions. “...cutie marks are a gift from Princess Celestia- a gift from the energies that surround us all and connect us. Why wouldn’t you do what your special talent is, what your passion is,“ Ivory was saying below. “Ah don’t believe my mark was what my passion is.” “What? Of course it was your passion. That’s what a cutie mark IS.” Ivory replied irritably. Dusty sighed in resignation, or perhaps exhaustion. “Look, Ah just don’t see why a pony can’t go off and be good at loads of things. It doesn’t have to be your special talent for you to be good at it.” He explained, trying a new angle. Ivory shook her head, and muttered something beneath her breath. An unreadable look crept over Dusty’s face for a moment. Muse landed between the two, before he could finish thinking up his retort. Her face was scrunched up, working through her strings of thought. When her expression cleared, her ears flattened as she glanced over at Dusty. "We have a problem." After Muse explained what she had seen above, the three ponies found themselves in the middle of a heated disagreement. Ivory Spire of course assumed the speck was an envoy sent by the Princesses to 'clean up the mess'. Dusty proposed that it was another wrecked train, and that survivors may be inside. Magpie thought they were both bucking idiots and that it was clearly a trap, or worse. While the two of them argued over the best way to approach it, Muse could only think about putting as much ground as possible between them and it. Occasionally, she darted back into the air to check that it hadn't begun to sneak up on the ponies. And each time she landed to report that it was still in the same place, the more determined Ivory and Dusty became. Soon, it wasn't even an argument. "You said that Dusty was a monster too," Ivory said with a pointed look. "Would you really rather risk passing by something that could help us because you're scared?" "Uh, yes, the odds aren't favorable that the huge black object is a friendly monolith," retorted Muse. She felt Dusty's eyes on her, and rather than force the argument further, she chewed on the inside of her lips and stared down at the dirt. "If you're so worried about it, just stay in the air and keep your eyes on it," Ivory said as she rolled her eyes. She had become much more self-assured now that they were on their way to what she was certain would have answers. So self assured, that she seemed convinced Muse would be able to summon cloud miracles. "In the air? With what cover?" Muse gestured to the cloudless sky. Ivory gave it a brief lookover, before tossing her mane back. "If something shoots you down, we'll just catch you," she replied in what was probably supposed to be a reassuring tone. Muse's face scrunched up in disgust. "If something shoots me? What if something eats me?" Ivory glanced over with a frown, "Is that your only concern?" "Ya don't have to if you're so opposed," Dusty said, stepping in to intercept the disagreement. His green gaze focused on Muse, worried and contemplative. "But it'd be mighty handy to have more to go on. An' you're still the fastest." Muse had no response to that. The off-colored sun had begun to dip down behind the swath of desert landscape ahead of them. The night sky started to peek through the sun’s final rays, inky and empty. The stars still refused to appear. Feeling naked and foolish, Muse hovered in the air, rising as quickly as she could muster as she kept her eyes trained on the massive sprawling thing. The three had spent the afternoon trekking after it, until Dusty decided that they were as close as they could get without risking being seen. Now, it was up to Muse to get an aerial view. Looking down, she saw Ivory and Dusty beginning to settle in beneath a formation of rocks that provided slight cover. She was almost certain she hated them. The stallion looked up, and watched Muse as she hovered in the air. Exhaling, Muse licked her chapped lips. Just one quick sweep, she told herself. Just enough to peek. Her wings burned with the effort to keep her in the air, but Muse pushed off, launching herself in the air until Ivory and Dusty were specks. Flying higher than she had in years, Muse turned and glided towards the silent monolith. Glittering lights were the first details Muse noticed. At first she thought they were campfires, then she feared they were eyes. Finally she realized they were indeed flames, but these ones were untamed. The wafting smoke hit her face, making the pony water at the eyes as she circled lower in an attempt to see what was on fire. When the smoke cleared, Magpie's heart sank. A zeppelin. The massive wreckage sprawled along the crater it made in the cracked desert ground. Flames still licked here and there, burning the remains of the gas bags as well as charred corpses of the passengers. The guts of the zeppelin spilled all over, metal twisted apart and wrenched away from the airship. Muse recognized the violent twisting of the metal. Her flank could still feel the sting of the things strong enough to pull apart an airship like this. The pegasus' chest tightened and her head swam as her eyes darted around, focusing on the horror of the corpses spilled all over the wreckage. Some looked like they had attempted to crawl away before being torn apart. One brightly colored pony dangled upside down, still buckled in to her seat. She looked untouched by the violent act surrounding her. Muse's eyes struggled to blink away the darkness edging her vision. These ponies hadn't done anything. Why did they deserve this? Muse's tired wings finally gave out, and flared behind her as she hurtled to the ground. The spinning slap of air hitting her face numbed her as old flight camp lessons took over. The exhausted pegaus did her best to roll with the fall as she contacted the hard ground - winded and bruised she tumbled end over end before she rolled to a stop and darkness overtook her senses. -- When she woke up, the pain rushed out to greet her. Her body felt stiff and rigid, and her head felt her brain was slithering and dripping out. Fuzzy shapes moved and paced in front of her, whispering in familiar voices. “So where do you call home when you aren’t blaspheming the Princesses?” “Oh. Ah say blasphemies at home too,” Ivory. Dusty. The pegasus moaned, trying to stand and shake her vision into focus. The ground veered back and forth beneath her shaking legs, and Muse felt a gentle shove pushing her back down. Ivory's blonde and lilac mane swam into focus. It had a few golden strands intermingled with the lilac, Muse noticed foggily. Then the voice accompanying Ivory's moving lips caught up to everything else. "You hit your head pretty hard, you need to relax," Ivory was saying. "Dusty cleared the ship out and made it habitable for tonight. We found some supplies while you were sleeping." Muse's eyes had cleared up, and she recognized now where they were. The airship. The mutilated corpses had been moved elsewhere, and the fires were put out. The air still smelled faintly of smoke and blood. The pegasus blinked a few times, staring up at the makeshift ceiling from the wreckage. Eventually her eyes found the spot where the candy colored mare had dangled lifelessly. "...bandaged your front hoof up. You should be able to walk on it now," Ivory continued. Muse laid there without response, and eventually the unicorn stammered to a stop. Her silent stare seemed to unsettle both of her companions. Dusty moved to her side, laying out a few tubers and roots and nudging her side. “Ah recognized these down by the river. Some-somepony showed them to me once,” He said, “It’s food.” The pegasus hesitated, swallowing the roots she had shoveled into her famished mouth. They were earthy and tart, but not the worst thing she had bitten into. She took another bite of the roots, this time chewing them slowly, as her mind rotated over her fragmented thoughts and truths. She had been on a train. It was destroyed by something evil. She was in a desert. She saved a unicorn named Ivory Spire. Then she saved an earth pony named Dusty. But then again, Muse didn't think he was an earth pony. “You’re part mustang, aren’t you?” Muse asked him. Dusty looked surprised. The pegasus smiled and nodded at his pinto coat. “Only ponies with mustang blood have spots, right?” she explained. Ivory shook her head. “Aren’t mustangs just earth ponies who lived in the desert?” She asked, in confusion. Muse and Dusty both shook their heads. “Mustang history is obscure, but there are a few legends about where they came from,” Dusty said. “All that is known for sure, is that they’re separated from the Creator’s energy.” The cogs in Ivory’s head clicked together. “…Meaning?” She asked, her nose wrinkling in thought. “They don’t always have cutie marks,” Muse interjected. “They’re…not pure pony. So, the connection they have to the Princesses and the Creator is diminished.” She glanced at Dusty. “... Sorry.” He shook his head. “Nah, no need to apologize. It’s been explained in crueler ways.” “I’ve never really heard much about mustangs,” Ivory admitted apologetically. “I’d only seen pictures of famous mustangs in history books. They don’t come to Trottingham often.” “Not since the murder of Pipsqueak,” Dusty said a tinge of bitterness in his voice. The mares looked at him, shocked. “It was ages ago. Still, mustangs remember.” He looked at the two mares, who still looked disconcerted and appalled. The stallion smiled softly. “The Princesses protect Equestria from evil, but still cannot fathom how to protect others from the evil lurking within their precious little ponies,” He quoted. Muse frowned, the quote niggling at her, though she couldn’t place it. The trio walked in silence for awhile, nopony quite sure of how to move past the unfortunate conversation and the idea that ponies could be villains. After a few minutes of silence, Muse took to the air again, and Ivory shrank back, eventually trailing behind Dusty. Dusty’s words continued to make Muse feel guilty somehow. Ponies weren’t evil, she thought. There weren’t hate groups. Whatever Dusty thought about Trottingham was biased and clearly slanted in favor of making it seem as though mustangs were prejudiced against. Muse argued against that notion; after all, Since the Zebra Proclamation, all non-ponies could own property and were considered citizens on the same level of ponykind. How could Dusty say mustangs were treated unfairly? It wasn’t ponies’ fault that mustangs had a bad reputation. Maybe if the ancient mustang tribes had been nicer- No. Muse shook her head clear of those thoughts. She didn’t think that was the right way to think. That was the concussion talking. But what was? The pegasus groaned internally, her head throbbing. She needed a break. Everything just needed to stop. "So where are you from?" Ivory asked. Muse lifted her head, confused. Had she already lost track of the conversation? Both Dusty and Ivory looked at her with frozen expressions of concern. The pegasus swallowed her mouthful of food. “Mine’s easy,” She dismissed. “I’m from Cloudsdale, originally. My dad was a factory repair-pony. My mom was in weather control. She was a quality inspector, so we traveled a lot. We’d go to local sites of weather control; and she’d inspect them, and make them more efficient. Bring them up to speed on changes made to protocol. I moved to Manehattan after finishing basic school. My folks weren’t too happy. I wouldn’t even agree to live in the local Cloudsdale branch of Manehattan that hovers above the city. I wanted to be in the city. Breathe in the dirt and grime and hardship. I thought that was how I could create the best stories...” Muse paused, sighing wistfully. “I suppose all this is a painful bit of irony.” Muse forced a laugh, before nodding to Ivory’s flank: her cutie mark depicting an opened book with a key fitting into it. In all the action since they first met on the train, Muse had never really considered the other mare's cutie mark. “I think it’s your turn now, egghead.” Muse could see a blush tinge Ivory’s pale cheeks in the night. “I can’t- I’m just a...librarian,” Ivory mourned, shaking her head. “Well, I bet you could catalog a hundred books before we finished a dozen,” Muse smiled encouragingly. Ivory laughed. “Oh yes, absolutely,” she said, shaking her head. "You wouldn’t believe the state I found some archives in." Dusty tipped his head with interest. “Archives?” he asked, politely. The mare nodded. “I help restore the historical records in various museums and libraries. There was one in Whinnipeg, the mess was dreadful. And some of the documents were left in conditions that made them crumble if you breathed near them. It was heartbreaking…” The mare continued to tell her story, growing more animated and excited at the state her books had been found in. Hair bristled along Muse’s spine and she found her eyes and attention pulled away. A large collection of clouds drifted idly towards the three, moving like a sluggish barge in the sky. It looked crafted, not something wild. Muse got to her hooves, a feeling of familiarity tugging at her senses. It drifted closer. The clouds brought something to the tip of her tongue, but a piece of the puzzle remained unfilled in her head. “Muse?” Ivory voice came from behind the pegasus. Muse shook her head in disbelief. “That’s my parent’s neighborhood,” she realized with a sharp inhale. Her amber eyes were wide, dilated in fear. “That’s Cloudsdale. Th-That’s part of Cloudsdale. It broke off…” The pony took a few steps towards the cloud formation. Her heart pounded in her ears, drowning out her thoughts. Cloudsdale. It was one of the greatest cities in Equestria. One of the oldest cities. Pegasi had used the nomadic city as a homebase since Commander Hurricane. It was built with pegasi magic to resist all sorts of weather. A typhoon couldn’t break the city up, not with all the ponies working up there, keeping it together. Her companions trailed after her in concern. “Muse, what are you doing?” Dusty asked in concern as the pegasus’ wings unfurled. She looked back at her companions briefly, brows furrowed together. “That’s my parent’s neighborhood,” she repeated as though that explained everything. “Muse, don’t you dare leave us,” Ivory demanded, stepping towards the pegasus nervously. “You can't.” “It’s my parents…” Muse whispered. And then she soared into the dark sky, hurling herself towards the clouds. Behind her, Muse heard her friends screaming at her, but she ignored them. Cloudsdale didn’t just break off. Neighborhoods didn’t wander off into the wild. > No Place Like Home > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Muse landed on the white, paved streets of the South Cloudsdale district. Looking around, the tall white buildings all looked vacant, and the streets were eerily empty. The only sound was wind whistling through the lonely clouds. As a filly, Muse had played in these streets. She had walked to school here. She had bought treats and drinks at a storefront that should be to her left… The pegasus looked, seeing only the black and starless sky where her home-city should have continued. Fear shook through the pony’s bones, rooting her to the spot. What was she doing here? Muse was not a fighter. Muse was not tough, or intimidating. Muse was one little pony with no idea of what she was doing. The mare closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. Her parents. A sharp pang stabbed her in the chest, full of fear and worry. That was enough to move her hooves, and carry the pegasus down the brightly lit and empty streets. Muse’s feathers stiffened as she passed under the lights, craning her head to look up at the yellow street lamps beaming down at her. The lights of Cloudsdale were built to react to the presence of the hundreds of pegasi living there. It was normal for them to be on. It wasn't normal for Muse to feel so painfully alone in those bright streets. Passing the cloud-built homes, Muse noticed several covered in a strange grey substance she had never seen before. Curiously, she approached a mass of grey sludge that stretched out over the street. It had an unhealthy, sticky sheen to it. Strings of the goo clung to the base of the street light. A few bubbles of air were still trapped beneath the ugly mire, struggling to pop free. Muse eyed the bubbles, her senses tingling uncomfortably. Her hoof raised, and the pegasus leaned in, considering giving the stuff a proper prod. Sniffing, she wrinkled her nose, smelling the corrosive, sickly sweet smell of vomit rising from the substance. “Uuagh,” coughing, Muse lowered her hoof, deciding against getting the muck on her hooves. The pony backed away, deciding to give the stuff a cautious berth. She sighed, looking around the vacant street. “Hello?” she called out. Muse waited, ears perked, listening for an answer. There was nothing, just wind passing between the buildings. She couldn't hear the laughter of fillies cloud hopping away from their little brothers. No echoing shouts from mothers summoning their children back home; or deep rumbling sounds of stallions laughing over sports and cider. This was supposed to be a homey neighborhood. Muse’s hooves clip-clopped down the street as memories of what should be penetrated her. An elderly mare used to live on the house to the right. She had kept doves, and knew them all by name and called them her babies. She babysat Muse as a filly and always made herbal teas that smelled like perfume. Shadows played across the cloud city, darting around in the corners of Muse’s eyes. The mare stopped, craning her neck to peer around in the dark parts where the street lights missed. She could have sworn there was something there, moving just beyond the light. In her peripheral, the pegasus could almost see what looked like movement, but every time she turned to look, it was just silent, empty streets. The clouds around her creaked and clacked. Muse’s feathers bristled and her hair stood on end. Clouds didn't creak. Her hooves flew down the street, carrying the spooked mare with them. A small whimper lodged itself in Muse’s throat as her heart tapped out an erratic rhythm. Her parent’s house came into view and she flew up the steps she remembered from years of playing on them. Muse burst through the door and in a burst of fear that had been building inside her shouted; “Mom! Dad!” her voice cracked a bit, strained from the weight pressing into her mind. The silence answering the pony made her knees buckle, threatening to collapse. There was nothing, except more of the grey slime bulging over the floor grotesquely, collected in piles over her mother's furniture. She flew to the second floor, calling again. Her resolve started to crumble with every door she burst through, only to be greeted by nothing. The house was a shell, everything exactly where it always was, other than the sinister absence of her family. Muse walked though the house, panic throbbing away into a disappointed numbness. Entering her parent’s room, she tipped her head, envisioning her parents welcoming her in. Collapsing onto their bed was like feeling their arms around her. She closed her eyes and breathed in their scent. Their laundry soap. Oil from her father’s saddlebags. Her mother’s perfume. They had been here. She crawled under their covers and snuggled into their pillows, pretending they were there with her, and not missing from their home. Her mother stroking her mane, and her father on the other side, telling her all about the neighborhood gossip. Who still has yet to return his borrowed cloud-cutters. Both of them reassuring her that everything would be fine. A quiet sob tightened her throat, as Muse suddenly felt like a very small little filly playing in a very grownup game. She wanted her parents with her. After everything from the train to finding Dusty, she tried to stay collected, to stay sane. But just for a minute she wanted to be a little helpless filly that got to be doted on by her parents again. She wanted to cry, to scream out all her pent up emotion, to vent the anger she felt that when Muse needed them most: her parents were gone. But instead she just huddled in a small ball underneath the covers, soaking in what comfort she could from the ghostly echoes of her parents’ presence. --- It was well into the night when Muse found her way back to the spot where she had left her companions. Dusty had made a fire, or so Muse assumed. She somewhat doubted Ivory had much outdoorsy skill. The pegasus landed just inside the orange glow of the fire, barely nodding to the other two, who started at the arrival. Ivory rose to her hooves and stomped towards Muse furiously, the fire glinting off her rosey eyes. “How- how dare you!” she squeaked, her anger bottling up her voice into a high hiss. “You can’t just take off after a cloud out here. It’s not safe, we have to-“ “I thought the princesses were handling it,” Muse cut the unicorn off with a dull stare. Her retort lacked any luster or spunk. The pegasus just batted it out there automatically, without heart. Ivory huffed, rolling her eyes. “Forget it, you’re not even sorry,” she glared at the pegasus. Ivory started to turn away, but stopped, whipping back around to add; “There are things other than monsters from Tartarus that would love to gobble up a stupid pony like you.” Muse just stood there, Ivory’s angry snaps hardly registering to the pony. Muse tried to find some spark of indignation to throw back at the unicorn but, instead she just felt lethargic and defeated. What did it matter, letting Ivory have something to fume over? Muse couldn't bring herself to care. She was busy concentrating on the gnawing pit in her stomach that was threatening to empty the rest of her. Dusty’s shadow fell over the patch of sand she was fixated on. “Sorry,” she said listlessly. “You find your folks?” the stallion asked. “No,” Muse’s voice shrank along with her body. Mentally she chewed over that answer again and again. What did ‘no’ mean? Was it hopeful, or was it terribly foreboding? The mare suspected that somehow it was both, and that duality made Muse feel even worse. She looked up at the pinto stallion, biting her lip. His eyes were narrowed in concern, but an arm wrapped around her when Muse’s watery eyes met his. She cringed at the embrace for an instant, before letting herself melt into it. It felt good to be touched by someone else after the ghost town of her neighborhood. With a nudge, Dusty led Muse to the fire and sat her down. “What did you find?” he asked, sitting beside her. Across the fire, Muse saw Ivory glaring at the two. “Nothing,” Muse said. Her voice was much steadier than the rest of her. “It’s completely abandoned but… I don’t know, I think the cloud’s magic might be broken.” “Why do you think that?” Dusty asked. Muse lowered her head, resting it in the sand. “All the lights were still on,” she muttered, staring at the orange flames. “They shouldn't be…” “Oh good. So she took off and abandoned us for nothing?” Ivory’s voice snarked darkly from the other side of the fire, fresh with bitterness. Muse’s head snapped up. “For nothing?” she repeated, the empty hole inside her filling up with outrage. All the exhaustion and fear and worry drained from the mare’s body as she stood, blood pounding in her ears. It felt good to be afire with anger; better than having empty anxieties echoing off each other lethargically. Muse fed it happily, using her worry and fear and thoughts of her parents as fuel for a beam of rage directed at Ivory Spire. “Hundreds of ponies have vanished. Thousands more could be dead. Cloudsdale has only been broken up when disaster and death have destroyed pegasi abilities to keep the city together. There was sludge all over the clouds that I’ve never seen before, my parents are missing, and there are things out there that shred ponies like cheese.” “There’s a reasonable explanation for everything,” Ivory shot back. “There was probably just a cloud factory meltdown, which caused your sludge and required ponies to evacuate. I'm sure everything is under control. Ponies are probably rounding up your stupid neighborhood as we speak.” The unicorn sniffed, looking proud of herself for her logical sense. Dusty got to his hooves, standing between the two mares, one of whom looked ready to attack. He stared down at Muse until the pegasus looked away and sat back down. Then the stallion looked at Ivory exasperatedly. “Are you listening to yourself?” he asked her quietly. “Ah don’t care if you think all this will be solved and dandy by the time we reach Appleloosa. If Cloudsdale has broken up, you worry. You know what’s in Cloudsdale besides weatherponies?” Ivory shook her head, quieted by the steady stare Dusty gave her. “Over a third of the reserves for the Royal Army. If disaster hasn't struck Cloudsdale, then it’s been emptied out by a call from the Princesses. And they never, ever use military force unless it’s something those three goddesses can’t handle without manpower,” his green eyes bored into the unicorn. “We clear?” Ivory made two short nods, her eyes averted from the stallion. She settled back down and curled up, staring off into the middle distance, her ears flat against her skull. Dusty sighed and shook his head, sitting back beside Muse, looking somewhat distressed with himself. Muse eyed him suspiciously. For a pony who worked on a train a couple days ago, he knew a lot about the military’s procedures, and Cloudsdale’s part in them. “Who are you?” she asked. Dusty’s lips quirked into a smile. “Even the simplest pony can learn a lot about the world simply by paying attention and looking around,” he answered cryptically. Muse rolled her eyes and sighed. “You’re the worst,” the mare complained, stretching out. “I can’t write ballads about you if you don’t give me answers.” Yawning, Muse looked up, noticing the stallion still sitting up and looking around. “Looking for something?” she asked. “Keeping watch,” Dusty replied with a smile. “I’ll wake you two up if I see anything suspicious. You go on and sleep some.” “Really?” Muse murmured, curling up in a ball. “Sleep well, Muse,” Dusty’s voice echoed in her ears as she let her eyes shut and her mind wash itself away. She was back in her parent’s house, and she was a young filly. Bouncing around, pleading for one more story, until her parents swept in and carried her into bed. Snuggling into the warm comfort of her bed. Her dreams were broken by a quiet sob. Blearily, Muse’s eyes opened, and she saw Dusty’s large figure across the fire, sitting beside Ivory’s smaller one. Briefly, she toyed with the thought of picking herself up, of approaching the two, of consoling the cries.The grey mare’s head dropped back down into the sand and her eyes shut. Then she was back in Cloudsdale as she remembered it. Bright and colorful and full of lively ponies flying through the air... --- As she dreamed, an old folklore wound its way through her mind and shimmered into life. When Equestria was still young, and ponykind still infants to the world, great beasts of myth and monsters of Tartarus ruled the lands. The weather was wild and uncontrolled, and the sun and the moon fought each other in the sky, leaving no room for night or day. One of the greatest creatures from that time was the windigo stallion, Sleipnir. He was a gleaming stallion with sinewy legs and golden hooves that outpaced the speed of thought and the stretch of time. He was the whistling wind that rustled through trees, and was so swift he could travel the world in a breath. Sleipnir was boastful of his speed. He would often trot through the manes of ponies, his words wafting in the wind. ‘I am truly greatest of creation.’ He bragged. ‘Find a pony who can outpace me once and I’ll give him my golden hooves. Find a pony that can outpace my twice, I’ll teach him how to reach the land of the dead and if he outpaces me thrice, I’ll teach him how to return.’ Word came to Sleipnir one day as he was tickling the hairs of foals that a pony had taken up his challenge. Sleipnir laughed, hearing that it was a simple earth pony. ‘I expected a unicorn to try to trick me with their magic, or a pegasus to challenge me through the air. But a mud pony? What can he do?’ So Sleipnir invited the pony to his home, and made a feast to honor the challenger. The mud pony arrived, covered in garb. ‘To hide his shame upon defeat’ crowed Sleipnir. The pony said nothing in return. The next morning, Sleipnir awoke to find the pony waiting in the fields. ‘The ocean is to the east,’ The windigo challenged. “Beat me to it and back, and the first of my prizes will be yours.” The pony, still covered in cloth, said nothing. Sleipnir smiled, confident of his victory over this mute mudpony. ‘Why don’t you have a headstart?” The stallion offered. The pony bowed. And then began to run, long legs skirting over the grass and hardly touching the green blades. Sleipnir watched the pony disappear in the distant and noted that truly, he was the fastest mudpony Sleipnir had espied. The windigo felt uneasy, and without further pause, raced after the pony. He reached the salty air of the ocean in a heartbeat, and galloped back to his home, cackling with confidence. As he approached his home, his servants raced towards him, trembling with fear. ‘Do not fret,’ Sleipnir assured them ‘I’ll go find the brave fool and save him from exhaustion.’ Wordlessly, the servants pointed, and there was the hooded pony, kneeling respectfully at Sleipnir’s arrival. ‘He cheated! He double-backed when my back was to him!’ cried Sleipnir. The servants all protested, and pointed to the mudpony again. The mysterious pony withdrew a pink shell from his folds of cloth and dropped in before Sleipnir. It still smelled of the sea. Fuming, and foaming with rage, Sleipnir relinquished his golden hooves. The next morning, Sleipnir awoke and again the pony waited for him. ‘You cannot trick me today!’ snarled the great stallion. ‘You will have no headstart today.’ The pony bowed. ‘Bring a snowflake fresh from the peak of the mountains to the north back to this spot before me, and you’ll have the second of my prizes.’ The windigo hardly finished his sentence before bolting off, leaving the pony behind. Sleipnir reached the mountaintop and plucked a snowflake from the air, and headed back to his abode. ‘There’s no trace of the oafish pony. He must have tuckered out and quit long ago.’ He laughed all the way to his home. There was silence greeting him at the gate. ‘Where are my servants?’ the stallion bellowed. ‘Why are they not serving me drink and praise for finally ridding myself of that mute oaf?” He entered his hall, and the windigo found the cloaked pony waiting for him, kneeling respectfully. A glistening snowflake was in the mudpony’s hooves. This strange pony had already taken Sleipnir’s magic hooves. The windigo suddenly feared the loss of all his secrets that made him mighty. Hastily, he spoke: ‘You can have your promised gift if you like. Or- or, beat me one last time, and I’ll give you anything you desire.’ The pony bowed, in agreement. The third morning, Sleipnir was up before the mysterious pony, having spent the night scheming. ‘Without my hooves, I have been handicapped.’ He complained. ‘It is only fair that you too have a handicap.’ He produced a long, heavy chain. ‘You are a mudpony, how about you pull something? Are you as strong as you are fast?’ The masked pony nodded, silently. ‘Then pull the sun.’ Sleipnir challenged. ‘Pull the sun around the world before I can, and I will give you anything in your heart you desire. But! If I win, I too get to have anything I want.’ This pony’s head on a pike danced in the windigo’s eyes. The mudpony bowed, lowering his head. The heavy chains wrapped around the pony’s chest, and the pony’s muscles strained against them, the weight of the sun holding him back. Finally, Sleipnir felt that he would best this irritating pony. The race began and Sleipnir bolted though the air, looking back to see the pony’s hooves digging into the dirt and he pulled against the sun. Partway around the world, with no sign of the cloaked pony, Sleipnir relaxed, letting the current of the air carry him. He imagined returning to his castle to see the pony having failed to take a single step. Sleipnir would kick the damnable pony’s head clean off, and never again would mortal ponies dare challenge the greatest stallion in creation. As he dreamed, Sleipnir felt a ripple of heat prickle over his skin. He looked behind him and started at the sight: Muscles pulsing, rippling beneath the bindings, the cloaked pony galloped across the sea, the sun soaring in the sky behind him. The sun’s heat burned at the cloth covering the mudpony, and it caught fire; making the pony look fiercesome as he bore down upon Sleipnir. The two sprinted neck and neck across sea and plains, The wind chasing the sun across the world. Sleipnir strained, trying to keep his pace with the blazing pony. He turned, looking at the mudpony as the final stretch came upon them. The mortal pony dug in, and with long legs that kissed the ground, pulled ahead of the great windigo. He watched as the sun disappeared ahead of him, helpless to stop the impossible pony. When he finally arrived to his domain, Sleipnir stared at his conqueror. ‘I knew no stallion could best me.’ He said weakly. Still aflame from the glorious sun, a tall and lean mare with a flowing golden mane stood before him. ‘I am Aesif.’ She said, shrugging off the chains. He bowed before her. ‘I will give you anything.’ Sleipnir said, honor bound. Her eyes blazed. ‘I want your fealty.’ She demanded. ‘Unwaveringly.’ He answered. Aesif stepped closer. ‘I want the sun.’ She commanded. ‘To give my ponies night and day.’ ‘Only you are beautiful and fleet enough to guide the sun through the sky.’ Sleipnir agreed. Aesif drew closer, and he could smell her sun-kissed scent. ‘You.’ She whispered. Sleipnir looked up in fear and wonder. ‘I want you.’ ‘I’m yours,’ The windigo vowed, his eyes unable to move from the pony. ‘Forever’ And so the fleetest of ponies captured the wind and made him love her. Every day they chased each other across the sky, yearning for one another. Every night they found each other, and Aesif made Sleipnir hers again, and again, until she birthed their offspring: the fleetest and most untamable ponies to roam Equestria. She named her children Mustangs, and let them run free with their father dancing in their manes and their mother guiding the sun to nourish them. --- The morning came, and again Celestia‘s glory was muted so that the warm yellow sun was diminished, dull and brownish. The ponies below the sun ignored the foreboding sign, and kicked out their fire, rubbing sleep from their eyes. The three didn't speak to one another, and sullenly headed out towards their destination. The sun was starting to fall past the horizon line, when Muse swung by the river for a drink. Her wings were burning from constant usage. It felt good to be able to put weight on her bandaged hoof. As she lowered her head to drink, her ears twitched, hearing someone approach. She sighed, feeling his worried stare at her back. “Mind if we walk together?” Dusty’s query seemed more like a statement of what was about to happen rather than a question. Muse straightened and forced a smile together. The stallion fell in step with her and they walked along the river. “You’re not talking to Ivory,” he noted. “Well, she’s not talking to me,” Muse scoffed. Dusty made a pained expression. “Holding grudges doesn’t help anyone out here,” he said, frowning. “It’s helping me,” Muse retorted, tossing her mane out of her face. Dusty gave her an exasperated look. “You can’t-“ Muse cut him off, “You’ve heard her talk. She won’t listen to anything we say. So what’s the point? I might as well just let her flounder around thinking a princess is going to swoop in and save her. Maybe halfway through dying horribly she’ll realize that’s a stupid thing to think.” “You’re being a bratty little filly,” Dusty said, his voice surprising Muse with its harshness. “She’s scared out of her mind. You can’t just drop her because she annoys your sense of practicality in the face of danger.” “Well I don’t want to be responsible for her. Why don’t you take it? You’re the gallant one,” Muse fired back. “Ah think it’s too late for that.” Dusty muttered quietly with a wry smile. “I thought you were on my side! You defended me going to Cloudsdale,” the mare glared up at the stallion. He sighed, “Ah defended the reasons you had for going, and disagreed with her attitude. It was still reckless, and inconsiderate.” “It was my parents!” defended Muse with a shout. His green eyes fixated on her. “We all have parents," he replied shortly. Muse turned her head away from his eyes. The stallion continued in his soft drawl, "Ah know. And Ah’m sorry. But you need to look around. You have friends depending on you-“ “She isn’t my friend,” the pegasus snorted, stamping her good hoof. Her wings unfolded, flapping angrily. “And neither are you. You’re just a pair of ponies I saved and got stuck with.” Dusty stopped walking, a look of genuine hurt crossing his face. The look in his eyes made Muse feel like a monster, like there was something evil and tarlike crawling under her skin, making her say those things. But there they were. She couldn’t take them back. “Who do you think you are, anyway?” Muse demanded, letting her suspicions fall out of her mouth like angry bolts aimed at him. She avoided the stallion's eyes, feeling compelled to continue down this hurtful path stubbornly, until she could escape the conversation. “Why are you so gung-ho about turning a file-organizer, a writer and a trainpony into an unbreakable fellowship?” Dusty sighed, ears drooping. Muse glared at him. The stallion averted his gaze. “Ah love my family well enough. They’re mostly good ponies. Ah’m not proud to be one of them though. Ah’ve avoided them for years. But there is one thing they taught me that Ah consider worthwhile,” his eyes lifted to check on Muse’s attentiveness. “Friendship. Even in the worst storm life can hurl down, friendship can protect ponies. It can save them. Ah believe that. So when monsters from beyond Equestria flay my flank and send me running to the desert; when Ah collapse and prepare to die and instead some little pegasus shows up to lead me to the river…Ah know that friendship is there, protecting me.” Dusty dropped his gaze, walking past Muse. The pegasus stood still, wind ruffling her hair. Guilt gnawed at the empty spot inside her gut. What were they to her? Could she really call them friends? The pegasus snorted. What did it matter? Right now, all that mattered was getting to Appleloosa. All that mattered was ponies getting to safety. Friendship didn’t make Muse feel safer. She trotted after the others who had stopped at the top of a hill. As she approached she could hear Ivory say; “Ugh, what smells?” Joining them, Muse looked down at the desert town of Appleloosa. The dull orange light from the setting sun cast long shadows of the buildings across the ground, as though the town was reaching out towards the weary three. Her excitement grew at the sight of the orchard in the distance and her stomach growled loudly. Ivory gave her an odd look. “What?” Muse replied defensively. “Where is everypony?” Dusty asked himself lowly. The stallion seemed tense, and his rock-steady aura had vanished. Without pause he headed towards the town, leaving the two mares scrambling to follow after his quick canter. His ears strained forward trying to hear any signs of life in the growing darkness. They passed an overturned barrel of apples, abandoned by the side of the path going into the town. Muse and Ivory both stopped to grab a mouthful of apple, but Dusty only quickened his pace. As they approached the town, there were more signs of the Appleloosians suddenly abandoning various tasks. Laundry scattered on the ground. Wheelbarrows and their goods dumped by the road. At the front of the town, there was a large stone statue of a pony in a Stetson hat. The stallion wore a vest with a star pinned to it. She walked closer, reading the plaque: ‘Braeburn Apples: Founder of Appleloosa. Creator of the Buffalo Treaties. Loved by pony, respected by buffalo, missed by all.’ In smaller print, Muse read: ‘DED by HRH. Twilight Sparkle’ Muse touched the statue, trying to find some comfort in knowing that once, a princess was here. If Ivory read that plaque, she’d be filled with serenity, finding safety in the reminder that the princesses walked amongst common ponies. For Muse, there was nothing. Who cared where the princesses walked in the past? They weren’t in Appleloosa now. Sighing, Muse looked up at the desert town and, Muse’s mouth opened in shock. “Oh no,” She whispered, realizing what Ivory could smell on the wind earlier. Hanging in familiar clumps and creeping along the ground was the same grisly and sickly grey sludge that had overtaken Cloudsdale... > Sloughing Nightmares and Clicks > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Muse quickened, running to catch up with Dusty. “Hey, wait! Those mounds everywhere. That’s the stuff that was in Cloudsdale,” she said, pointing to the greyish muck which covered the buildings and streets of Appleloosa. Dusty eyed the nearest one hesitantly. Muse followed his gaze, the fear from last night growing inside her. “What are they?” “I dunno. Let’s find out,” Dusty said. He walked over to a house with a little fenced in garden and unceremoniously bucked down the fence. The stallion made a sharp grunt of pain, stifling it quickly. Muse’s eyes went to his injured flank, catching sight of yellow pus and blood leaking from his wounds. Before she could say anything, he picked a piece of the fence up and walked towards the sick-smelling sludge. His eyes narrowed, and the two mares took a step back fearfully. Then he raised his head, aiming. And poked the sludge, piercing the outer membrane and penetrating the thick, squishy substance inside.The stake made contact with something buried within the goop, and Dusty twisted his head, trying to open up the clump. A noxious cloud smelling of bile rose in the air, burning Muse’s nostrils. Something moved inside the sludge. Muse called out, “Dusty, look out!” The stallion dropped the stake and hopped back warily. And all three stared in shocked, as rasping and shaking, a mare stumbled out of the sludge. Legs shaking like an unsteady infant, the mare collapsed in the dirt, head lolling to the side. Beneath the slime that matted down her coat, the mare was a golden yellow, with a long green mane that covered her face. Her cutie mark was a pink and white bloom. Dusty let out a sharp inhale. “Lotus Blossom?” he said with a pained strain to his voice that Muse’s ears recognized as heartache. He moved to the mare, trying to help her up frantically. “Lottie, do you hear me?” Muse’s ears went flat. “You. You’re from here?” Dusty gave Muse a guilty look, opening his mouth to speak, but was cut off when the mare slowly got to her hooves. Dusty smiled broadly and he brushed her mane back. “Lottie, what happened to you? Do you know where everypony is?” He asked. The mare, Lottie, let her head drop, as she coughed and rasped. Dusty looked worried. Finally, she straightened and jerked her hoof clumsily towards a large building Muse assumed was a town hall. “This...way,” Lottie whispered hoarsely. “They are all this way.” Dusty walked beside her, his attention entirely on the mare beside him. Ivory and Muse glanced at each other and then back at the sludge. “What is it?” Muse wondered, approaching it. Her snout wrinkled at the pungent smell still rising from it. “Ugh, that stuff is vile.” Ivory frowned. “It could be like a Changeling chrysalis,” the unicorn purported. ”They incapacitate their victims in pods so they can become them…but it doesn’t explain the smell.” “Muse! Ivory!” Dusty called them over. The two left the sludge and ran after the stallion. He stood in front of the town hall. Lottie was beside him, her mane still covering her face. Dusty’s face was bright and relieved and he was practically prancing in eagerness. “Lottie says everypony is safe. Creatures attacked, but they holed up in the town hall.” Muse frowned, “What happened to her?” “She was knocked out and coated in the slime by the creatures- to eat her after she suffocated,” Dusty explained quickly, his eyes going to Lottie who jerked her head in an affirmative nod. Muse shook her head. “Creatures? What creatures?" Ivory inquired in alarm, her eyes squinting as she looked around the buildings. "If she was knocked out, then how does she know where everypony is?” Muse asked as she eyed Lottie suspiciously. The mare’s head twitched in Muse’s direction and the pegasus’ skin crawled. Dusty frowned. “It’s not that hard to guess where ponies would find shelter.“ “But you said-“ Ivory mumbled beside Muse, “The cocoon smelled like bile. Bile is-“ “Please,” Lottie rasped. She coughed dryly and took an unsteady step towards Muse. “Please come and help. We need your help.” “Help with what-“ Muse started to ask. Then Lottie coughed again, her mane falling away. A strange bulge moved across the mare’s neck. The pegasus shouted in alarm, shoving the mare away. Lottie stumbled back, her long mane flying in the air, over her shoulder. Ivory and Muse both made sounds of horror, gaping at the pretty pony who stared at them with filmy, dead eyes. A lump moved from her cheek down to her throat. “Please, help us,” Lottie repeated, walking towards the mares. Dusty followed the mare, worriedly. “Lottie, Lottie, sweetheart, what’s wrong with your eyes?” he asked her, his voice shaking with doubt. The mare jerked towards the two frightened mares, her mouth dropping open. A hiss emanated from the maw. Then a stick slammed into her face. Muse looked back at Ivory who stood, eyes wide and horn glowing with magic. “O-O-Oh god,” Ivory began trembling. Muse looked back at Lottie. The stick had ripped open her cheek and embedded itself into the mare’s eyesocket. Dusty moaned in pain, staring at Lottie in shock. The goldenrod mare jerked away, head lolling to the side. The ponies watch as the mare’s face stretched and rippled unnaturally and the stick twisted out and fell to the ground with bits of bone clinging to it. Lottie's head lolled to one side to regard the three ponies, milky white fluid dribbling out of the empty socket. Something wriggled inside the recess of her socket, and with a plop a round, fat, grey larva fell to the ground. The larva wriggled around angrily, until Dusty’s hoof slammed down onto it, squishing it into the dirt. The larva didn’t stand a chance, and exploded on contact with the stallion’s powerful hoof. Inky blood pooled from the ragged remains, and stained Dusty’s fetlocks. The earth pony looked like he was about to be sick. “I’m so sorry, Dusty,” Ivory whimpered, cowering slightly. Dusty looked dazed, and unfocused. He turned back to the mare, heartbreak etched in every movement. “Lottie,” he breathed, unable to finish processing his thought. The stallion took a few steps away from her, his mouth opening and closing in an attempt to speak. Finding nothing, he just repeated her name. “Lottie…” Muse’s mind had caught up to the events, and looked at the mare in concern. “Why was she leading us here?” Muse voiced, taking a step back just in time for Lottie’s head to jerk back, and let out a loud, high pitched shriek. In answer, a new nightmare to haunt Muse came crawling out of the town hall. They were almost pony-sized, and walked on six spiderlike legs, and had insectoid wings along their grey backs and two angry pincers on their underside. Its entire body was covered in tiny black hairs that quivered slightly. The creatures had a long, reptilian snout filled with ugly, needle like teeth. Multiple black eyes blinked at the ponies hungrily. Several of the creatures poured out of the town hall and clicked back and forth to each other. Then at once, they jumped towards the living ponies. One of the creatures lunged towards Muse, who shot into the air, dodging out of the way. Several buzzed after her, taking to the air in pursuit of the pegasus. The thought of the others tore Muse from soaring as fast as she could from the town,and instead she flew towards the ground, hitting it with her hooves running. She couldn’t leave the others. Not this time. “Dusty!” She screamed. To her left, Ivory scrambled beneath a porch screaming as the pincers of a couple creatures wriggled and struggled to ensnare her. Dusty blinked, still shocked. He stared at Lottie as more larva fell out of her distorted, wriggling body as the dead pony jerked her hooves up and slammed into the stallion. A creature slammed into Muse and the pegasus fell back, squealing and bucking at the pincers, trying to avoid getting caught by them. “Dusty, help!” The pincers snapped at Muse and the creature snarled, twisting around to bite at the pony. Muse punched the snout away, screaming in fright. The bristling black hairs on the creature’s body were rough, and poked at Muse’s skin. A pincer cut the pony’s cheek, hot blood spilling into Muse's eye and blinding her. Muse wriggled desperately, flapping her wings in a blind panic, beating at the monster with them ineffectively. Muse heard the creature make a few growling clicks and its head twisted back to snap at her wings. A couple feathers were caught by the long maw and Muse screamed as they were ripped out. The creature crumpled suddenly, flying off the trapped pony. Dusty’s face appeared above Muse. His eyes were red from tears. “Come on, we have to run,” he said. The stallion grabbed her and hoisted her up. The pair ran towards Ivory, dodging and bucking creatures out of the way. Dusty shouldered Muse to the ground and she slid into the dust as the stallion bucked a monster out of the air and kicked it into another. The tangled monsters snarled and fought against each other behind Muse as she hopped to her feet and ran after Dusty. Muse glanced towards the town hall, where a couple creatures were whistling and clicking over a crushed, trampled stain on the steps of the town hall. She caught a glimpse of green and goldenrod, before Dusty directed Muse to scurry under the porch and shove the shaking unicorn out of hiding. Muse crouched and crawled towards Ivory, squeezing through the splintering wooden beams. Overhead the hissing beasts were chewing through the wooden stairs, ripping out chunks of wood as their pincers grabbed at the creamy pony who was sniffling and crying pathetically. Muse reached out a hoof and prodded the unicorn into opening her eyes. Ivory’s rose eyes widened and she threw her long arms around the pegasus. “You came back,” Ivory whimpered in relief. Above the two, Dusty kicked and trampled the creatures by the porch until there was a satisfying crack. Then the two mares squirmed out of the porch and the three ran down the streets, Dusty leading them through the town. He flew up a set of stairs and threw open a door. The mares dived in and he slammed it shut, the powerful stallion effortlessly shoving a nearby dresser in front of the door. There was silence, other than the panting and gasping of three frightened ponies. There was a low buzz of creatures flying towards the house and the ponies pressed against the walls, listening. Ivory bit her foreleg to stifle her whimpers. Time edged on. The creatures passed the house by, and after several minutes of silence, Muse let herself exhale. The tension in the room relaxed and the three stood, surveying their surroundings. It was a very rustic house. Wood beams went across the ceiling. The floor was decorated with homey rugs laid out over wood flooring. The walls were covered with pictures and framed dried flowers laid out decoratively. Muse glanced over and saw Dusty looking around the house sadly, and suddenly remembered she was annoyed at him. “So is this a neighbor’s house?” Muse shot, glaring over at Dusty, who cringed. He said nothing, walking further into the house. His back legs limped slightly, trading the weight back and forth.Dusty limped back to the mares, tossing a saddlebag on the ground, alongside a small square first aid kit. The saddlebags were a soft, well-worn brown material, emblazoned with a red apple that had a star cut out of it. The box was covered in red fabric, a set of snaps keeping it shut. The top of the box had a white cross with a red heart inside it. “We need to grab everything we can carry,” Dusty was saying, as he peered out the window. “And then we need to get out of this town. Everypony here is gone, or worse.” “Not before we bandage you up,” Ivory protested. Muse glanced back at the two. The unicorn had a point. Dusty’s crusted over scabs had broken, and more blood and pus was leaking from them. The wounds were red and angry and looked puffy with infection. Muse felt the bandages wrapped so carefully around her own injuries and realized that whatever medical supplied Ivory and Dusty had found in the zeppelin wreck, they had saved it all for her. Guilt festered within her and she eyed the two with new eyes. “Ivory’s right,” Muse agreed forcefully, “you need attention.” Dusty’s face hardened into a mulish look of protest, but before he could argue, Ivory’s horn lit up and began lifting things out of the kit. She opened a bottle of clear fluid and drizzled it on the wound. Dusty’s eyes shut and he hissed in pain as the liquid fizzed over his wounds. “Don’t…Don’t use it all on me,” he muttered to the unicorn, grumpily. Ivory didn’t respond, her mouth set into a concentrated frown as she magically sifted through tubes and bottles. Muse turned away from the pair, feeling nauseated by the smell of blood and chemicals mixing together. Instead she began examining the house, her eyes drifting over the framed pictures idly. After a moment she noticed something odd about the photos, or rather, something special. She stared at the flanks for a moment, before turning her head. “This is an Apple family house!” she exclaimed, grabbing a photo and trotting over to the others. “Look, it’s a picture with Apple...Applesnack...or-” Muse stared at the orange mare in the photo, trying to remember the name. “Applejack?” Ivory’s voice rose with excitement. The mare stopped looking at her work to peer at the photo. “One of the heroes of Equestria that fought with Princess Twilight? Isn’t she still alive somewhere?” “Oh right,” Muse remembered. “Yeah, I think she’s the one still alive.” “You’re from here- have you ever met her?” Ivory asked Dusty curiously. The stallion cringed, trying to look back at Ivory to supervise her attempt at nursing. Ivory glanced back at her ministrations, which had become her inattentively jabbing an ointment-covered cotton ball onto Dusty’s wounds. She blushed slightly, and refocused her attention. Muse continued to watch Dusty, waiting for an answer inquisitively. The stallion’s ears flattened as he spoke, his voice carrying a slight edge to it. “Er, yeah, maybe once or twice,” his eyes glanced back at Muse. “Go put that back, will you? Stop nosing around somepony’s home.” Muse sighed, moving to replace the photo on the table. She looked at it, the smiling blonde pony cheek-to-cheek with a green-eyed stallion holding a hammer in his mouth. Braeburn, she realized, recalling the statue in the town. The vest and hat were the same, minus the sheriff’s star. The pegasus hesitated, staring at the stallion. Something about those green eyes seemed familiar. Her senses buzzing, Muse looked at the photos on the wall more closely, watching the generations of Apples grow up and grow old through the wooden frames. Then she came across a photo with a brown earth pony with a blond mane. His cutie mark was an apple with a star cut into it. Beside him was a colt, and a mare, who was unmistakably a mustang. Her white body was covered with rust-colored spots and her braided mane was a deep red. The colt beaming between them had a dusty colored coat with mud colored spots, and huge green eyes. Muse gasped. Grabbing the photo, Muse flew back to the two just as Ivory was tying off fresh bandages around Dusty’s flank. The pegasus dutifully ignored the two faintly embarrassed looking ponies and displayed the photo. “Are you an Apple?” she demanded, shoving the photo at the stallion. He looked at the photo for a moment, smiling a little in nostalgia. The smile drooped however, and his eyes filled with sorrow the longer he looked at it. Dusty pushed the photo away. “I don’t like talking about my family,” he sighed. Ivory and Muse watched him incredulously. “Why the buck not?” Muse probed further, “your family is-“ Something clicked together in Muse’s mind, making a hollow and metal ‘thunk’ like a lock snapping shut. Family. Cloudsdale. Muse saw in her mind two clumps of sludge in her parent's house last night that suddenly seemed horrifically pony shaped. A hundred realizations swarmed her mind, overloading her until the mare felt flushed and her blood pumped loudly in her ears. Muse scrambled towards the window, knees buckling, and eyes staring out at the empty night sky. “Those things could fly,” she whispered. “They took Cloudsdale." Her mouth opened and closed, though nothing managed to squeeze past the knot lodged in her throat. Her body feeling like lead, she slowly sunk to the ground. Her parents had been in the house. Right under her nose. She could have saved them. The moan started from her heart, then ripped its way out of her choking out a sob. Her cheek rubbed against the ground, tears blurring her eyes and visions of her parents drowning out the frantic shouts of her companions or their hooves on her shoulder. She could only see her father, and his bristling, ticklish mustache. And her mother crawling into bed with Muse late at night to read stories and eat honey oat ice cream. Behind her, there was a shattering sound of glass breaking and clinking to the floor. Ivory screamed. Muse could hear the buzz of angry wings. Ivory was suddenly wrenched away from Muse, and the mare fell to the ground, twisting to stand. As she turned, she could see several of the creatures swarming over her friends. Ivory’s milky limbs disappeared as the creatures pulled her out of the window they broke through. Ivory clung to the windowsill, screaming out, her eyes locked on Muse. Then she slipped, and lost her grip, and the hissing and clicking monsters carried her away. “Muse!” Dusty commanded the mare’s attention as he bucked and fought off the beasts. “Run, Muse!” The creatures he had just bucked off all pounced on him at once, a splash of blood staining the wooden floor. Muse trembled, watching Dusty fall to the ground. Then she turned, and ran. Up the stairs and down the hall she flew, running into a bedroom and wrenching open the closet. Muse buried herself deep inside the closet, shaking like a leaf in the darkness. The mare shoved a hoof into her mouth as she tried to stifle her ragged breaths, choked out by sobs. She left them. She left them. Over and over again, Muse saw Ivory’s disappearing face, full of terror. Dusty collapsing. Muse’s hooves running. She left them to die. The only friends she had. Magpie Muse was a coward. She had failed. Muse had sworn to keep Ivory safe. She had made the deal with herself to look out for her companions. And Muse, in the end, let them die so that she could have a few minutes more to life. Tears stained her cheeks as the pony rocked back and forth. She should go after them. Muse should try to save them. Or at least, Muse should die with them. But she couldn’t. The pony was frozen in the enclosed, dark space of the closet. She couldn’t bring herself to leave. “I’m so sorry. I’m so…” Muse sniffled to herself, eyes closing. Then she paused, and sniffed the air carefully. Filling the air, was the sweet, and noxious smell of vomit. Her heart stopped. Above her, Muse heard a quiet hiss. > Of Ponies and Monsters > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- A sharp whistle of air sounded, ruffling Muse’s blue mane before she heard the heavy thunk of claws embedding into the door frame above her head. The pony squealed in fright, wriggling away from the claws. Her heart accelerated as the panic from earlier rushing back into her head. With a grunt of effort, Muse slammed her body against the closet door and tumbled out into the bedroom. She scrambled to her feet, hearing the monster behind her growl and thrash in the dark of the closet. Her ears twitched, hearing the splintering of wood. Seeing a temporary hiding spot, Muse scrambled behind the bed, her hooves tripping over a thick woven rug in her hurry. Painfully, she fell on her shoulder. Hearing the monster behind her, she looked around wildly, the world blurring as Muse searched for a means of defense. Her eyes landed on a belt half-kicked under the bed, just within reach. A recognizable glint of metal shone in the dim light, and Muse stretched out a hoof, pulling the belt out. Two weapons clunked against the wood floor, made of heavy black metal. Muse stared at the odd shape for a moment, before she recognized them as griffon-made guns. The handle and trigger were built to fit in a griffon’s claws. The curiosity of finding a foreign weapon in the home of a pony didn’t occur to Muse. All that mattered was the power she found in her hooves. During the start of the Griffon Wars, ponies had found a way to work these guns, and so could Muse. The pegasus had a weapon, and with that weapon she felt energized, jittery with the desire to survive. All she had to do was figure out how to use it. Clumsily she sat back on her rump, using her front hooves to hold the gun, her wings poking at the trigger. Somehow she could get the weapon to fire, she just needed to- BOOM. The gun’s explosion echoed its way down the pony’s eardrum, as the gun kicked back from the force, slamming into Muse’s unsuspecting face. The pony wrinkled her snout, feeling a cut and blossoming bruise form on her cheek. A faint ringing remained in her ears as she examined the dark bullet hole blasted into the wall of the closet. Gunshots were not at all whisper-y, soft, or pleasant noises, she thought to herself, shaking her head. The grey pony quickly decided that guns were not her favorite. The ringing in her ears dulled, and Muse suddenly became aware of a snarling, rough voice snapping at her: “Take your filthy pony hooves off those damn guns, and stop shooting at me,” The gruff voice snarled. The sound of another voice filled the small pony with brief elation and hope. The monsters of Appleloosa had clicked and hissed, but never spoke from what Muse had seen. A voice meant somepony alive, that she wasn’t alone, and danger was temporarily at bay. Ears perking, she moved towards the closet a bit, staying close to the edge of the bed. Who was hiding in the dark though? Curiosity melded in with caution as she remembered the brief struggle. Those claws. Thinking about it, Muse thought she could sense an accent in the voice. It wasn’t a pony. There were plenty of things in the world that could speak and still wanted to kill ponies. Hair bristling, Muse fumbled to aim the gun, her eyes narrowing. “I’m an expert shot, you know,” she growled, trying to mimic the speaker's intensity. “The next one is at your head.” “Is that so, Cupcake? How are you pulling the trigger? Your teeth?” jeered the voice. Muse glared at the dark expanse of the closet, her jaw tightening in dislike. Her wings stiffened in annoyance and again the gun’s end exploded, and the weapon slammed into her face. The pony cursed in pain as the being in the closet continued to yell out; “Stop wasting ammo, you fracking herbivore.” Muse scoffed, rubbing her sore cheek, “what kind of insult is that?” “The last polite one you’re getting if you don’t drop the gun, Cupcake.” “My name isn’t Cupcake,” the pony argued. “Oh sorry,” Drawled the voice. “I always mess up how you Ass-Tats name each other. Glitterfloof, is it?” Muse stood still for a moment, regarding the closet with irate disdain. The entire conversation felt wrong and surreal. Her heart was still pounding from the attack minutes ago, and sweat drenched her coat. Blood was still wet and sticky on her cheek and her body was aching from the tussle with the monsters in the streets. She should be running, escaping this city. Instead she was arguing with an unknown voice. And yet, all her fear and panic drained away in the face of this strange, unknown thing. The same strange thing that called her names and made her feel…a new and exhilarating form of rage. “I’m going to shoot you this time,” Muse decided, toying with the gun again. This time she gripped it with her teeth. “Oooh, I’m shaking, Sparklebutt. Why don’t you do us both a favor and come into the closet.” Suspicion rippled over the pegasus and she eyed the closet. Muse ceased playing with the gun, deciding that by fiddling with the gun she was more dangerous to herself than to the monster. The pony edged away from the source of the voice, ears lowering as she spoke warily. “Why? So you can eat me?” Muse could hear a smirk in the voice's reply, “no, so you can pry me loose. Eating you comes after I kill you for wasting bullets.” “Tsh; I don’t have to bucking deal with this,” the mare muttered. If she wasn't going to hide, the mare needed to get out of town. Muse took a step back as her eyes roved over the room, looking for a way out. “No, you don’t,” the voice agreed as Muse eyed the bedroom door, wondering how likely she was to get jumped by monsters. The voice continued, drawling out its words in a way that sounded like the voice was enjoying the taste and shape of each word connecting together, “You can leave and go get your insides fisted by a bunch of worms. I’m happy to wait here for a less dense grass-grazer to stumble by.” “You know what; I’m going to do just that,” Muse snarled, her temper agitated by the snarky collection of shadows. Her eyes lit onto the window. Flying would have to do, Muse wasn't sure she could handle the infuriating voice much longer. Still. she tossed back as scathing an insult as she could muster. “I hope you get eaten by one of those spider things.” The pony stomped towards the window and began fiddling with the lock before she was stopped by the voice. Dripping with insincerity, she could hear the eyeroll accompanying the stranger’s words. “No, stop, don’t, mercy,” it said, making Muse snort. “You wouldn’t let me die, would you, Twinkleflank?” “Yeah, I think I would, Mister Shadowsnark,” Muse said immediately, unlocking the window with a heavy click of the lock. She began nosing it open, feeling the cold rush of night air against her face. “Wow.” The low voice- Muse was certain it belonged to a male- drawled on, gushing over the pony in an impressive display of sarcasm. “How noble. Wow. Such a statement. What would your princesses think of your friendship and harmony-spreading ways?” That comment managed to sting, planting a tiny, festering seed of guilt within the pegasus. She imagined one of the princesses looking down, watching her. Not just any of the princesses, but Celestia, the elegant, beautiful and intimidating goddess. All the other princesses were important too, but somehow Celestia's approval was just so much more important. She exuded a presence that gracefully demanded ponies to do better, to be better. Isn’t that what the grownups always said when she was a filly? That Celestia could see within the hearts of all ponies? At this point, the mare didn't think there was much inside her to be impressed about. Leaving her friends to die didn't score many points on the harmony scale. Then again, Muse thought, buck the princesses. They clearly weren't watching, or Muse wouldn't be in this miserable mire. Dusty and Ivory would be safe, and Muse wouldn't be leaving them to their certain doom. If the princesses were even remotely interested in helping out, Appleloosa and Cloudsdale wouldn't be destroyed. “You must be one of Celestia’s favoritest ponies. Do you guys sip tea and titter over the magic of rainbows and-“ “Commander Hurricane's dandruff, fine, shut up,” Muse snorted impatiently, acquiescing the stranger if only to stop him from talking about the Princesses. She glared at the closet, willing it to be set on fire. If only she were a unicorn. She’d set a lot of things on fire. Muse suspected that would solve a lot of her problems in a short term way. Though solving life problems with arson would probably lead to more severe long term issues. Muse reflected on the thought, pitying unicorns. All the magic, none of the legal right to arson away their problems. Unless I were a Princess, Muse supposed. Princess Twilight had certainly stretched the possibilities of violent magic during the Griffon War. The pony stepped closer to the closet, trying to see into the growing darkness. “If you aren’t a monster, what do you want with me?” she asked, curiosity rising within her enough to delay departure. Though the window was open, the starless night cast little extra light into the room. She wasn't sure she was ready to blindly trust a voice so sardonic and annoying. Glancing around, she found a candle and matches sitting on a nightstand, rings of wax formed on the table from years of use and neglect. Muse fumbled with the matches a bit, struggling to light them. Finally she heard the crackle of a spark, and the orange glow of a flame lit up the area around Muse. She gently lifted the candleholder, stepping into the closet. She could see clawmarks gouging the walls and the door of the closet. In the corner, Muse spied a large, bulky carcass bristling with coarse black hair and too many legs. She gasped, jolting back as she registered it as one of the hideous things the town seemed to be infested with. “Relax, Cupcake,” the voice said. “I killed that one.” “Where are you?” she asked. Something soft grazed her cheek. Muse looked to see a long tawny tail white a white tip. She followed it, the light illuminating the top shelf of the closet. A griffon watched her, lazily perched on the shelf despite a mass of familiar grey gunk covering his hindlegs and a wing. “Boo,” he said, his beak twisting into a smug grin. Muse’s eyes narrowed. “Of course you’re a griffon,” she growled, stepping away. “Nothing but a murderous overgrown crow.” “Wow, racism from a pony,” the griffon said, his golden eyes rolling. “That’s so unexpected.” “You eagle-headed egg-layers murdered one of the greatest heroes of Equestria,” Muse spoke, looking up at the griffon in disgust. The pony snorted, backing away. A cold wash settled over her body, cementing in her heart as she glared at the creature. “Your kind deserves everything it gets.” Muse turned, heading towards the window again. “You know, Cupcake. After all you ponies and your genocidal Princesses have done to griffons, you could learn to tell us apart,” he growled lowly, almost petulantly. “I’m not a Roc.” “No, you’re a griffon.” In the closet she could hear a strangled snarl of frustration and rage. The pony smiled a bit, feeling titillated that she had provoked such an intense response from the snarky monster. The griffon thrashed around, and wood splintered in the closet. It sounded like he had ripped a hole in the wall. “You know what, fine. Leave me. I don’t want to be saved by a grass-grazer anyway,” the griffon huffed. “Frack off, pony.” Muse waited, listening for the griffon to start up a new wave of insults and jeers. To her disappointment, the pony only picked up silence. She stared out the window, chewing the inside of her cheek as she considered the dark, desolate town. A thought niggled its way to the forefront of her mind. As far as she knew, as far as anypony knew, a griffon was a griffon. They were just big, meat-eating barbarians that lived in the mountains and started wars. What was a 'Roc', anyway? Curious, she picked up the candleholder and crept back to the closet, peering up at the griffon. He was slumped over, staring deeply into the wood of the closet. Muse’s head tipped to the side, examining him. He didn’t look like most griffons she had seen in books. He was far smaller, for one. Most griffons she read about were easily triple the size of ponies. This one seemed only a bit higher in the shoulders than Dusty. His beak was smaller, and his frame more lithe and less bulky. The crest of feathers on his head were a dark brown, mottled with gold and white. His face and chest were lighter, other than the dark marks around his eyes. If she thought about it, Muse supposed he looked more like a hawk than an eagle. The idea intrigued her. Were there different kinds of griffons like he implied? “So what are you?” she asked. “Frack off.” “If ‘Rocks’ are most griffons….What are you? A pebble?” Muse grinned. The griffon turned his head to glare at her. She felt herself get lighter, feeling happier than the moment she dived into the river. The pegasus laughed as the griffon turned away, and she crept further into the closet feeling bold. “So what are stone griffons like?” “Drop it, horse,” the griffon said dangerously. His gold eyes glinted in a way that promised to shred Muses into pieces. “All you deserve, is that I’m not a Roc,” he spat the clarification out in disgust. Muse nodded, her eyes going wide in mock gravity. "Oh yes, I don’t see any moss growing on your flank,” she confirmed, hiding her smile. “Sorry Cupcake, you’ll have to go elsewhere for your ponyrific ass kinks,” the griffon replied, narrowing his eyes. “My flank is perfectly blank.” “You know, that explains your emotionally stunted behavior,” Muse commented slyly, watching the griffon glower down at her. He regarded her for a moment, a smirk quirking his beak. The griffon leaned down towards her. “Cut me down, Sassafras, and I’ll show you how special I am,” his voice purred lowly. Muse fluffed her feathers out uneasily, tossing her mane from her eyes. Out of the corner of her vision she glimpsed the guns, lying on the floor abandoned. Guns, which without their owner were far less useful in the hooves of ponies. It was a pity. Muse had enjoyed the brief power that holding such a weapon gave her. The sense of protection and destruction sitting in her hooves. It made her feel like the problems surrounding her were fixable. That there was a way that everything could turn out just fine. Cogs whirred and clicked solidly into place as an idea came together in her head. She could fix everything. The pony beamed silently, before looking back at the griffon. All she needed was him. Muse stretched her wings out and looked up at the griffon, trying her best to appear interested and impressed with the mighty griffon. Her eyes wandered back to the guns, and the pony bit her lip as if in thought. “Are you any good with those guns?” she asked, glancing back at him, holding her face in a look of indifference. The griffon’s head tipped to one side quixotically, eyeing the pony suspiciously. “Why are you asking?” he asked slowly. “I might be in the market for somepony who can handle big guns.” The griffon sneered, “Well, Cupcake, they aren’t decoration, if that’s what you’re asking.” “My name isn’t Cupcake,” Muse grumbled hotly, scowling at the griffon, who grinned in response. “Well what is it, then?” he asked. The mare froze, her ears twitching. The way he asked, his velvety, coarse voice made the pony shiver a little. She wasn’t sure if it was fear or something worse. Either way, Muse had a distinct feeling that telling him her name wasn’t a good idea. Her mind went back to the guns, and inwardly she groaned, her desire for firepower outweighing her suspicions. “Muse,” she answered hesitantly, hoping that would be enough. The griffon made a disbelieving sound. “Muse what? Pony names are way more preposterous than that. Cupcake Muse? Dazzledust Muse? Muse Glitterfloof?” “Magpie,” Muse wrinkled her nose in distaste, grinding her teeth to bite back her angry thoughts sure to silence the griffon’s mocking. “It’s Magpie Muse.” “I liked Cupcake better,” sniffed the griffon. “I’ll be sure to tell my parents.” The pegasus retorted with an eyeroll. No I won’t, the realization dropped with a heavy thump in her heart. Her parents were gone. The pony froze, her mind fixated on the fading memory of her parent’s house. On the grey mounds that sprawled in the living room. Images of them looking like Lottie, with milky eyes and sagging skin invaded her mind. Inside, she felt a quiver of the same panic-driven urge to chase down Cloudsdale, and find a way to save her parents. This time though, it was tempered with shame. It had been foalish to think she could have save her family, Muse realized with a heavy heart. She knew nothing about these creatures, or their grey sludge. Who knew how long her parents had been dead. Muse’s throat tightened. Her whole neighborhood was gone. There was nothing Muse could have done. By the time she had gotten there, it had been too late. Instead, her stupid moment of weakness had gotten her only companions caught. Dusty, Ivory, they were the only ponies Muse had, and the foolish pegasus had discarded and forgotten them. The pegasus swallowed the lump in her throat and blinked away the wetness in her eyes. This mess was her fault, and it was up to her to fix it. It would be wrong to just leave them, not without trying to recover them. She needed to get back the only ponies that she had. And along her way, Muse vowed to smash and burn every monster she found. One for her mother, one for her father, one for the old mare who smelled like lavender perfume… The pegasus felt an invisible weight lift, as her creeping sorrow ebbed away. In its place, something new smoldered, angry and intense, and aimed at the things that took her friends. Her eyes darted up to the griffon, and the pegasus straightened. “So who are you, Pebbles?” She asked, her face flushed and hot. “Striker,” the griffon introduced himself, watching Muse with catlike yellow eyes that no longer unnerved the small mare. His talons dug into the shelf a little, creating little shavings of wood as he spoke. “So tell me Magpie, what caused a little cupcake like you to be in the market for gunsmen?” “My friends,” Muse licked her lips, tasting the idea of this plan. Letting it float out in the open was frightening. It was one thing to consider doing the right thing, and another matter entirely letting the air hear her intentions. Saying it felt like binding her to this plan. It was blatantly stupid and defied her senses of survival and practicality. But it was the right thing to do. She owed them. Or else she’d just become a sniveling coward, dying alone. “They were taken by those creatures-“ “Nope,” the griffon promptly did his best to turn his back to her as he cut her off. “It’s not too late-“ Striker crossed his forelegs and rested his head against them, coolly talking over the mare. “I’m happy dying here, here is comfier than your alternative.” Muse frowned, her voice rising in protest, “But they’re my friends.” “Get new friends, pony. None are worth dying for.” “I have to save them!” Muse insisted. “Why?” Striker challenged, his voice scornful in its disbelief. “Give me one reason why I should leave my incredibly comfy perch to do something incredibly stupid.” “I left them,” Muse said. Her resolve wavered and she looked away, feeding her guilt with flashes of Ivory’s scream and Dusty’s blood splattered on the floor. “They were taken because of me. I…I have to try. It's the right thing to do.” The pegasus lifted her head, looking at Striker. He was unfortunately necessary to her now. There was no room for him to refuse. Muse glared at him, thinking her way around the griffon-shaped problem. Finally, she smirked, eyes landing on the sludge. “How long have you been trapped in that?” she asked. Before he could answer she continued. “A few hours? Do you have any idea what that stuff is? Because I don’t. But I’ve seen what the ponies who come out of it look like. You could take a gamble, and stay put in your little closet here. Cross your claws that nothing happens.” The griffon didn’t say anything. Muse smirked, leaning against the door frame. “I bet if you really tried you might wriggle out.” She judged, eyeing the sludge covering his wing and back legs. “You’d lose some flight feathers, maybe a bit of that hide. But you’d escape. Injured. Unable to fly. But hey, you’re a big, tough griffon. You might fight your way out of this place.” Muse’s eyes hardened, and she lifted the candle up, letting the flame illuminate her face. “But see, Striker, I really need your help. And unless you promise to help me save my friends, I might just slip, and drop this candle on the floor,” the pony faked a concerned pout as she blinked her eyes at the griffon. “Do you think you’d get out of your mess before the room burned down?” The griffon’s beak twisted into a snarl, his eyes narrowing to calculating slits, “you wouldn’t dare.” “Try me, Pebbles,” Muse stared at the griffon steadily. Was it wrong to make this threat? Probably. It was probably even worse that Muse suspected she was just spiteful enough to do it. But there were no ponies or princesses around to chide her for her moral irregularities. The pair held one another’s gaze silently, waiting and hoping for the other to crack. Muse let her hoof waver slightly, the candle tipping towards the floor. Wax splattered on the wood. “Fine,” Striker said quickly. Muse smiled in victory and set the candle down. She left the closet to forage through the house. She came back, holding a kitchen knife in her mouth. With a few flaps, she hovered in the air, and narrowed her eyes in concentration. Carefully, she inserted the knife and began sawing through the oozing slime. It took time, and several instances of the griffon snapping as she slipped or nicked his flank. Finally though, the last of the membrane and sludge was cut through, and chunks sloughed off the griffon and splattered on the floor. Striker’s feathers and fur were still matted in grey slime, but with a groan of relief, he stretched, flexing his wings. Muse could hear something pop as the griffon arched his back. She tossed the knife to the floor, her jaw aching from holding the knife so tightly. With a hoof, she rubbed her jaw, her wings guiding her to the floor. “Finally,” Striker rumbled. He sprang at her, faster than Muse would have suspected. They dropped out of the air and collided on the ground. The pony briefly glimpsed the guns and thrashed towards them, before Striker’s hindleg kicked them away, the griffon focused on dragging the pony back into the scuffle. Muse kicked and bit at the griffon as he pinned her down. A hoof smashed into his face, and the griffon recoiled in pain. “You promised!” Muse squealed, squirming to free herself. Striker recovered from her blow and grappled her, his claws scratching at Muse’s tender hide. Striker pushed a taloned hand against Muse’s throat, and the griffon smirked. “I did no such thing,” he replied. His eyes, shining a bit in the darkness, glinted venomously. Muse felt the tips of his sharp talons prick at her throat. Striker’s head tipped to one side, regarding her coldly. “So tell me, little pony, what was that about leaving me to die?” Muse wriggled a little, straining her neck in an attempt to alleviate the pressure, “all I have to do is scream.” The mare smirked, as the griffon paused a moment, considering the odds of him fighting off any of the monsters attracted by her screams. Then she choked, as Striker bore down on her, his beak set into a firm line, “how much screaming can you do before I rip out your throat?” The griffon posed. He would kill her, Muse took in the deadly creature pinning her. Underneath his dark feathers, she could see hard muscles ripple, poised to kill her with a fluid ease. The pony bit the inside of her cheek, weighing her options. She was surprised to find herself more infuriated by the betrayal than afraid of the talons scraping her throat. “Enough,” Muse spat, her eyes burning holes into Striker. She had never threatened to kill somepony before. But now these threats were slipping from her lips as though she were some hardened criminal. Even more troubling, Muse was fairly sure she’d at least try to make those vows happen. The mare tried her best to look intimidating as the griffon studied her. Miraculously, she felt the talons lift from her neck and Striker moved away. “You have guts, Cupcake,” he observed. Striker sighed, sitting back and flicking his tail in defeat. “I like you.” “You promise to help?” Muse asked suspiciously. The mare edged her way backwards, her side bushing against the smooth footboard of the bed. The griffon rolled his eyes. “On my honor, I promise to help you in your endeavor to escape Appleloosa,” he drawled. Muse’s face scrunched up, judging Striker. He didn’t seem like he had much honor. “You know what happens if you break a promise in Equestria?” Muse tested, taking another step back. “No, do enlighten me,” Striker said, his eyes beginning to rove over the floor. Muse’s breathe increased as she fumbled around, using her back hoof to poke around in search. “They say the Ghost of Laughter rises from her grave and haunts you… Forever,” the pegasus felt something with her back leg, and she heard the scrape of metal against wood. Striker eyed her, stiffening at the sound. He took a step towards the pony as Muse turned and grabbed the gun belt in her mouth, “what are you doing with that?” Quickly, before Striker could protest, she shimmied herself into the belt, holstering the gun she had used before. “It’s my insurance policy.” “You don’t trust me?” Striker almost looked offended. “I’ll trust you more when we’re both surrounded by monsters and you have no choice but to do what I say,” Muse quipped, nodding towards the door. “You first, Pebbles.” > Finding a Spark > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Muse eyed the dark streets of Appleloosa, which were thankfully as empty as the sky above. Her ears strained to pick up any sound of approaching monsters. Hearing a pair of crickets singing in the night but nothing else, Muse sighed and glanced back at Striker as he pushed a heavy grey door open. The griffon gestured for the pony to follow as he disappeared in the building. Muse made her way towards the building, glancing at the hanging sign depicting a star within a circle. The sheriff’s office, Muse wondered, what were they doing there? The pony squeezed through the doorway and waddled into the room. The guns hung at her hips, a cold and unfamiliar weight that bumped into her back legs as she walked. In addition to the guns, Muse’s small frame was further encumbered by the bulky saddlebags Dusty had dropped in the living room of the Apple home. The saddlebags were well-loved and soft, but made for a stallion much larger than she. When she and Striker had left the bedroom and headed out, Muse had seen the saddlebag with the first aid kit lying on the floor. Dusty’s intent to grab the bags and escape resurfaced, and Muse had insisted on taking the time to pack the bags and bring them along. Striker had consented, though when the pegasus had suggested he carry the bags (being the larger of the two) the griffon’s yellow eyes just stared at Muse, before pointedly lowering to stare at his guns. The message was clear: the griffon wouldn’t be helping Muse any more than he had to until his guns were given to him. “What are we doing here?” Muse asked, looking around the sheriff’s office. The walls were painted a modest, unoffensive white, and the wooden floors were dusty and coated in a fine layer of sand blown in by the wind. Behind the large desk that sat towards the back of the office, there was a large corkboard covered in pictures and papers. A similar board which hung on the opposite wall was filled with local advertisements, yard sale announcements and an aggressively lettered memo warning someone to “keep their stupid grey cat” away from the writer’s flower garden. Striker ignored all this and headed for the desk, rifling through the contents. Muse flinched, hearing the sound of the griffon breaking something, and looked over to see him wrenching open a locked drawer. For a moment she felt compelled to say something. Whoever worked at that desk probably wouldn’t take kindly to the sight of their desk being wrecked. Then again, the mare nodded to herself, they were probably dead. A jingle of keys sounded as Striker produced a ring of small keys. He huffed in relief, and headed toward the back door, which Muse presumed led to the jailhouse. “What are we-” Striker cut off Muse’s inquiry briskly. “The Sheriff had some valuables of mine locked away,” the griffon said shortly. The pair walked into the jailhouse, and the griffon led the way to a plain door with a sign that said in bold, black letters: ‘Evidence and Holdings’. He began fiddling with the door and keys, as Muse peeked around. The room would have seemed innocuous and standard for a jail, except for one cell. The cell’s door hung open limply, the bars bent and dented. Inside, a creature lay on the ground surrounded in a pool of black ichor. “Were you in jail?” Muse asked, a note of incredulity lifting her voice. Her new companion sighed, making the exhalation as loud and irritated as he could before responding: “Yep,” Striker said opening the door with a sharp click of the lock. “What happened?” Muse looked the griffon over in suspicion. “Why were you in jail?” “The sheriff did what any good little pony would do and arrested the big scary griffon that came to town,” Striker grumbled, his voice echoing slightly as he wandered further into the evidence room. Muse crept after him, passing by tall shelves filled with boxes all labeled in nondescript black lettering. “He thought I was up to no good.” “Were you?” Striker stopped and let his gaze glance over Muse, a sly smile curving the edge of his beak. For a griffon, he almost looked attractive when he wasn’t scowling. “Maybe,” the smile faded as Striker locked onto a particular box. He headed towards it, fiddling with the keys as he compared them to the lock. “Either way, he tossed me in here for the night, and meant to have a chat the next morning. He started processing my valuables, when some pony with curlers dangling in her hair came in, hollerin’ for the sheriff. Other ponies outside started screaming, and I could hear those fracking bugs fly in…” “Wait,” Muse interrupted suddenly, “was this two nights ago?” “Yeah.” Striker glanced at her curiously. “At midnight? They came at midnight?” she asked, moving closer to the griffon as her voice rose. The griffon tipped his head to the side, judging the pony. Slowly, he nodded his head, brow furrowing together when Muse slumped against a shelf, her eyes wide and limbs limp. “Why?” his attention was torn away from the box, and the dark feathered griffon looked Muse over carefully, his yellow eyes hiding any concern with an unnerving blankness. A cold chill ran through Muse as she processed the information. The pieces of the puzzle were clearly saying something. But she didn’t know what. “It happened at the same time,” Muse breathed. “Whatever happened…happened at the same time, in more than one place.” “What happened to you?” Striker asked, his eyes sharp and calculating. A note of worry touched his voice, as the griffon reconsidered his position in this new, more dangerous Equestria. Muse shook her head, her face paling as her thoughts raced past her lips. “Our train was attacked. By something bigger. But…The stars went out. And then they came for us…They did something to the sun…” she looked at Striker, imploring for him to offer up some unknown Griffon myth that would explain away the starless sky and the monsters lurking everywhere. “Do you know what would do that?” “Your princesses.” His quiet remark drew forth an angry, spitting retort from Muse as she rounded on the griffon, “the princesses wouldn’t needlessly murder ponies. They aren’t evil.” The griffon frowned, focusing on the locked box. The mare watched as the doors shut in Striker’s eyes, blocking the pony from whatever the griffon was thinking. Muse made a noise of disgust and left Striker alone. The griffon blinked, his face kept carefully impassive as the pony’s hooves clip-clopped away. Muse’s head turned to look out the door, imagining the echoes of ponies crying out. What else was happening outside of this desert, Muse wondered. How many ponies were being consumed by nightmares? What was happening to poor, innocent Equestria? She felt her chest tighten, as though her heart had begun to wither and crack in heartache. What was happening in Manehatten? In Trottingham? Muse’s lips trembled a little and the mare closed her eyes, fighting back the tears that threatened to fall down her cheeks. Where ARE you Princesses? A plaintive voice whimpered in her mind. It was the frightened, quivering part of her that earnestly believed that the Princesses would come. The part that still thought that Equestria was functioning like normal. Taking a deep breath, Muse shook away the thoughts. There would be time later to cry, she told herself, letting the breath out shakily. Muse’s honey-colored eyes opened and landed on the beat-up cell door and the dead monster. “Did the sheriff leave you here?” she exclaimed, whipping around to look at Striker in horror. A wry smile brightened the griffon’s face as he set the box down. “You sound upset. I’m touched,” the griffon fastened a bandolier across his chest, his talons fiddling with an ammunition pocket. At his feet there was a smaller bandolier full of bulging pockets. Muse stepped towards him, shaking her head in disbelief. “That’s, that’s cruel, you could have died-” “Wow, you sound like you care. How unpony of you-“ Muse’s mouth twisted back into an angry grimace, “why do you have to be such a jerk?” “Because it’s what I was born to do,” Striker tossed the empty box, and it clanged hollowly against the floor. The griffon let out an impatient snarl and his eartufts twitched slightly. With an abrupt shove he passed Muse. Jostled, but undeterred, she followed after him, making a small noise as though preparing to retort. Before she could, Striker’s wings snapped open, smacking the mare in the nose. Muse spat out the brown and gold feathers and pushed the griffon forward, scrunching her face in annoyance. She could feel the griffon's smug grin even though he wasn't even looking at her. “So, Twinkleshine. Tell me your plan. How are you planning to save your cute pony friends from certain death? Do you even know where they are?” the griffon flicked his tail and turned to look at her. Muse frowned nervously. She hadn’t actually considered a plan. The pair fell into silence as Muse chewed her cheek, a blush rising to her cheeks under the griffon’s increasingly smug stare. “Come on, Cupcake, impress me.” “I’m thinking, you bucking thorn,” Muse snarled. Her nerves frazzled the longer the cocky griffon watched her as though he were enjoying a transcript of her frantic thoughts. He raised a claw, signaling his retreat. The pegasus sat back, staring at the ground. Her hoof pushed a loose piece of paper around idly. After several minutes, Muse squinted, and glanced at Striker. “So, we couldn’t just…go into every building and look around?” She asked. Striker stared at her as though she were a constant disappointment that had managed to stoop even lower. Flinching, Muse looked back to the floor for answers. How could she make a plan, when she had no clue what they were up against? Let alone how her friends could possibly still be alive. Her brows furrowed together as the pony dug her hoof into the wood floor, trying to recall everything she knew about the beasts. They were big; she nodded, and could at least vaguely communicate. They laid larvae in ponies wrapped in a grey sludge. They had a lot of legs, and teeth. They could fly. Outside, crickets chirped in blissful ignorance. Muse’s ear twitched. "It smells like bile," Ivory had said "Bile is-". Her eyes widened, recalling the moment before the droning buzz of the flying creatures filled the air. “Making an educated guess,” hopping to her feet, Muse began to speak, concentrating on her words. “These things are kind of like big, horrible insects from Tartarus. They have lots of legs…they definitely have insect-y wings, and they have larvae which they lay in ponies after they are wrapped up in sludge…So…So we can guess they might act kinda like a colony of bugs. And if we add up all their behavior, we can assume they might act a certain way.” The griffon kept his beak shut, but tipped his head for Muse to continue. Emboldened, Muse began to smile a little, continuing to think aloud, “they jumped us in the Town Hall building. It’s the biggest building around, and if I were a colony of bugs looking for a hideout, I’d want a nice, big building to be my hive. A place to gather food, and to gather all the…the…larvae cocoons. That’s where they’ll be. It’s the only thing that makes sense.” Muse felt herself want to bounce in excitement. Instead she vibrated towards the griffon, looking at him for confirmation. “If you think they’ll act like insects, then there’s one thing we can use against them-” Striker added slowly, closing the gap between Muse and him in thought. The pair looked at each other, and Muse widened her eyes in realization. And then, silently, the mare and the griffon had a plan. Was this what confidence felt like? The mare felt flushed and out of breath in her thrill. Striker watched the excited pegasus, and smiled. “Alright, little Magpie,” he said, nodding in affirmation. “I can work with that.” Muse blinked in surprise, “yo-you used my name.” Striker looked at her a moment, squinting his eyes a little. “I still like Cupcake better,” he replied with a swish of his tail. --- The grey sludge quivered as the rope tightened against it. Muse stopped, eyeing the cocoon warily. The small pony remained afraid of the consequences opening another up might hold for her while she was alone. While the gelatinous mounds seemed strong enough to be dragged along, Muse was afraid one rough tug going up stairs would ruin everything. She waited a moment, before carefully pulling on the rope. The cocoon stayed together. With a grunt, Muse clenched the rope and pulled, dragging the heavy sludge up another stair and into the house. Sighing, she positioned the cocoon with the three others, gathered in a tight group. Trotting to a table, Muse nudged open the apple emblazoned saddlebag waiting for her there. She lifted out a glass jar a little less than half filled with black powder. Somewhere, there were two other houses with similar piles of cocoons sprinkled with all the gunpowder Striker could find between his stash and the locked cabinet in the sheriff’s office. The pony and griffon had worked together on the first house, still concocting their plan, before splitting off to finish. Striker undoubtedly was already done, and was hiding in a cloud, or a tree, waiting to spy Muse’s signal, his guns returned to his hips. Or maybe he had abandoned her the moment he slipped from view. The mare unscrewed the jar and began encircling the cocoons in the black powder, ignoring the dark voice in her head. Working slowly, using a hoof to try spreading out the powder in a thin line to ensure it lasted, Muse made a straggly trail of the explosive material lead towards the door. She tossed away the empty jar, and ran back to the saddlebag, hefting out another jar filled with oil Striker looted from the town’s diner. Muse hovered above the sludge and began dousing it in the flammable liquid. Satisfied, Muse dropped the jar and returned to the saddlebags. After some exploration of the Apple home, Striker and Muse had discovered an impressive collection of ciders. Muse had excitedly thought of sharing the bottle with her companions after their escape plan ended with the group far away from Appleloosa. ‘Ah’ll buy’ Dusty had promised the two mares. It felt like eons ago. Muse had wanted to keep the cider, as an apology. Striker however, had insisted on using the cider as accelerant. Muse opened the bottle, inhaling the strong, heady scent and sighing wistfully. It was a shame to completely waste the cider. With a guilty glance around for spying griffons, Muse quickly tossed back a swig of aged cider. The burning, tart flavor exploded its way down her throat, and the mare moaned slightly. Celestia’s Maker, it was a good year, she thought to herself. Smacking her lips together, Muse briefly considered keeping it. “Stupid griffon.” Muse sighed, pouring the cider on the cocoons and the floor of the house. The bottle clunked onto the floor and rolled away. Cracking her neck, Muse moved to the table, and began strapping on the saddlebags. With her mouth, she grabbed a matchbook, making her way to the door unsteadily as she clumsily worked to light a match. The acrid smell of sulfur filled her nose as the match sparked and blossomed into flame. Wings unfurling, she tossed the match to the ground, where it connected with the gunpowder. The fire sparked, and steadily moved along the fuse towards the sludge in the center of the house. Striker had assured the pegasus that she would have enough time to get out of the house, but Muse still decided it was best not to stick around. Booking it out of the house she galloped down the empty streets toward the back of the Town Hall. Her front hoof still twinged a bit, but the pony pushed forward, her tiny legs carrying her past the empty, solemn houses whose darkened windows watched her pass. KA BOOM. Muse jumped at the noise, even though she knew it was supposed to happen. Looking over her shoulder, she saw smoke begin curling at the air. The pegasus stopped, pressing herself up against a house with weathered, green siding. She stared up at the sky above the Town Hall, her body tensed to run. Come on, she begged the sky, let this work. Silence stretched on painfully, until the roof of the Town Hall exploded, a buzzing cloud of monsters streaming forth. They darkened the sky as they flew en masse towards the flaming house. Muse stifled a cheer, allowing herself the briefest of hoofpumps. So, she and Striker had been right. They could be drawn out with their young. One of the creatures landed on the roof of the green house, and fluttered its wings. Muse froze, feeling the panic swelling in her chest. Why did she stay out in the open? She should have found cover the moment the explosion happened. The pony cursed herself as her eyes darted around, looking for a way out. BOOM. The sound of a distant explosion shook the house. A second column of smoke rose in the air. Striker. He had stayed. The creature turned towards the new explosion and took off to investigate it. Muse ducked around the corner of the house and slipped to the next house over, finding cover under its porch. She watched through the cracks in the wood as more alien creatures flew in the air. Muse held her breath, ears perked as she waited for the third explosion. After the third explosion, the creatures would surely empty out enough for Muse and Striker to be able to get into the Town Hall. Over a minute passed by, and no mighty boom had sounded. Muse began to worry that her newest companion had been killed, when she heard the crack of gunfire in the distance. He was alive, but had clearly become too occupied to help the pony any further. She hesitated only once, listening to the pop of gunfire, before the pony crept out from under the porch. The sky above her was clear. But one lone griffon couldn’t last long against these things. Muse had to go on alone. Going as quickly as she could without making noise, Muse approached the back door of the Town Hall. She tried not to think of Striker, or of the bullets she wasted earlier, and instead pushed the door open. > The Death of Appleloosa > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Hot, muggy air hit Muse full on as she opened the door. The pony’s stomach lurched at the uncomfortable combination of heat and sickly sweet. It smelled like a particularly desecrated toilet after a night of intense cider indulging and subsequent upheaval of said cider. She took a moment to recover, pausing to rifle through the apple saddlebags to produce a red bandanna which she tied around her face, hoping to stifle some of the obtrusive smell. It didn’t work perfectly, but at least now with the cloth around her neck she could pretend it worked. Moving quickly, she eased the door shut and headed further into the building. The ground beneath her hooves squished and squelched, covered in the grey sludge. Muse grimaced. Sneaking would be impossible without flying. Reluctantly she found a relatively untouched alcove and unbuckled the saddlebags. Just until I find the others, she told herself. Then she stretched her wings, still sore from overuse, and began gliding through the air. Muse soon discovered that Striker and she had in fact not managed to draw out every bug. She pressed against a wall, peeking around the corner at a pair of the creatures as they scuttled aimlessly in the hall. She had already checked everywhere else accessible in the building. She needed to get by. But how? She watched them hopelessly. A broken pipe beside them dripped water. The sound of the louder drops made the creatures occasionally jump and skitter back in surprise before exploring the sound. They were hideous, terrifying creatures, but Muse was fairly certain they weren’t terribly smart. Not like the tentacles that had coldly hunted for her and had enjoyed doing it back on the train. An idea slowly forming, Muse backtracked, entering a nearby office. She found a globe, still pristinely sitting on the desk. Struggling a bit, she pried the globe off of its stand, set it on the floor, watching it roll. She moved it around the room a few times, checking the way it rolled, until she was satisfied and while holding the globe, flew over to the closet door, opening it and propping it open. After arranging the room slightly, the pony edged back into the hallway and eyed the shot. This would be way less stressful if she had a bowling cutie mark, Muse thought to herself. Then she flew into the air and tossed the globe. It thunked heavily onto the ground and rolled along the slanted floor, bouncing against the door frame of the closet. Muse darted inside the room and hid under the desk just as the creatures thundered into the room. Pressing her face to the ground, she could see their spidery legs clicking on the ground as they wandered into the room, chattering back and forth. Slowly, Muse stuffed a hoof into her mouth, stifling her breathing as she watched the sliver of the room she could see. In dismay, she noticed the globe still spinning harmlessly. It had not gone into the closet. The first creature approached the globe, clicking in aggravation. The second seemed to be more interested in the room itself. She heard its buzzing wings, then a terrifying thud as it landed on the desk above her. The first creature nudged the globe, clicking wildly as it rolled a few inches. It skittered after the globe, poking at it again with a feeler. The other creature knocked several things off the desk as it crawled around, nudging the wheeled desk chair curiously. Muse was sure it could hear her heart pounding, but could do nothing but lay there as stiffly and quietly as she could. It buzzed off the desk, seeming to go after the desk chair, when it stopped. Something tugged lightly on her tail. Muse froze. Her tail was sticking out. The creature tugged again at her tail, and Muse felt certain its next step would be to walk around to her hiding spot. Running would be useless. She was trapped there. Muse wildly tried to think of any way this didn't end in her being disemboweled, when a loud crash sounded. The first bug had attempted to crawl onto the globe, and the globe had spun out from under the creature, tripping it into the closet. Now it clicked and shrieked angrily, legs waving in the air. Startled, Muse’s bug rushed over to the closet to investigate. Adrenaline coursing through her, Muse acted with more deftness and strength than she thought within her. Wings fluttering to help, Muse heaved against the desk and slammed it into the closet door. The second bug screeched and scrambled around, now stuck between the door frame and the door. Muse scooted the desk back slightly, only to slam it into the door and the bug again and again. The keratin of the bug’s shell cracked and black blood splattered onto Muse’s hair as the bug was crushed beneath her onslaught. The closet door shut, and Muse jumped up, bolted the door locked, and then ran, shutting the office door behind her. Panting, Muse forced open the mahogany doors at the end of the guarded hall and stumbled into the chambers. As she stepped into the room, she heard a gross and wet popping sound and felt a cold slime creep up her leg. Her hoof had stepped into one of the cocoons, and was knee-deep in bile and slime. Recoiling, Muse jerked her hoof back and shook it off in disgust. Lavender hair showed in the cocoon’s torn membrane, a lump darting around beneath the skin. Disgusted, Muse reared back and smashed her hooves into the sludge, intent on smushing all of the larvae before they could alert the other, more dangerous monsters. She felt the host pony’s bones crack and break under her hooves, the sensation disturbing and unnatural. This pony died way before now, Muse told herself. Still, her knees buckled beneath her and she barely had time to pull the bandanna from her muzzle before her shriveled stomach gave up its meager contents. At least it already reeks in here, her internal dialogue continued as the pony spat out the taste in her mouth. She stood shakily and glanced around the room she found herself in, eyes widening a fraction. Jackpot. The meeting chamber had been filled with well over a hundred grey cocoons. Her relief quickly turned to despair as the pony realized that with so many cocoons in here, it was unlikely that anypony had escaped Appleloosa. Just like Cloudsdale, Muse thought, her ears drooping. The thought felt incredibly isolating. How many other ponies could be out there? Nothing survived these assaults. Was there even a point to surviving? If she had anything left inside her, Muse felt like she would throw up again. Instead, she pressed on, looking at all the slimy tombs as though somehow expecting a solution to be stapled to them. She had been right. They were moving all the cocoons to a single location. But now that Muse was there, she realized how stupid it had been to think she’d be able to find her friends. What was her plan? To open every cocoon here and fight every larva-puppeted pony? To kill every pony here without weapons or skill? No, her friends were hayseeds in a haystack. They would die slowly, either by suffocation, the bile breaking them down, or the larva growing inside them. It was all her fault. She thought of the griffon, cringing with guilt. She still hadn’t heard the third explosion, and inside she couldn’t hear anymore gunfire. He had likely run out of ammo and fallen victim to the bugs. Muse imagined the griffon’s screams as he was torn apart, his wings being ripped from his contorted, bloodied body. She clenched her jaw, ears flattening. She should have freed him and let him fly far away from her disastrous suicide mission. Instead, she had acted like a monster in her own right. Threatening and extorting the griffon to die for her...what sort of pony WAS Magpie Muse? That wasn't what the princesses expected from their ponies. It wasn't the pony way. And now, in this dark, terrifying hovel, Muse knew she would meet her own, justified end. The pegasus couldn't live on knowing that she had caused the deaths around her. She had led and abandoned these ponies and griffon to die. Though however much she deserved it, Muse glanced over at a nearby cocoon, feeling a cold wash of fear flood her. It was a terrifying way to die. An axe blade gleamed at her on the floor, offering its own unique solution to her despair. It would be so easy, she told herself, picking it up. She studied her reflection in it. Her once bouncy and fluffy hair laid in sweaty locks against her grey face, smeared with mud and blood. Her orange eyes were bloodshot and wild, with huge bags of exhaustion beneath them. They stared back at Muse, warped and unreal. The end was as futile as the fight. There wasn't a point, Muse realized. There was no Equestria to survive for. All she could do was choose how to die. Unless...Muse raised her head slowly. She looked around the room, ignoring the murals of buffalo and ponies dancing and feasting, instead focusing on the wooden beams acting as pillars. She could make Striker’s sacrifice, and her own idiotic selfishness mean something, ending the torment of the ponies of Appleloosa. Her eyes took in the distribution of the weight on the ceiling, noticing the little cracks spreading to the pillars, and the slight sag further from the beams. Her scalp itched faintly as the gears clicked together: they were load bearing. Fluttering to action, Muse went to work. Taking the axe in her mouth, Muse began to clumsily hack at the wooden beams. Trying to work as quickly as possible, she alternated between chopping and bucking at the beams with her hindlegs. If little earth fillies could buck apples out of a tree, she could bring a few beams down. Her hooves however, were not tough and hardened from a lifetime of kicking things. They quickly grew sore from the pain, and one hoof cracked slightly. But her plan was working, as several beams splintered and bent. The ceiling groaned in adjustment. Muse rushed to the next beam, her coat working up a lather. Out of the corner of her eye, something sparkled and glowed dimly. She stopped, turning to look at the distraction. A small pile of cocoons were glowing a faint green. Muse tried to think of why the cocoons might be glowing, her panic rising slightly as she realized that she had yet to actually see the larvae hatch properly. The Maker couldn’t let this last act go wrong- not when it would right so much pain. Muse looked around at the other piles of cocoons fearfully. None of them glowed. Frowning, Muse looked back just as the light finally flickered and went out. The pegasus gasped audibly with realization: of course! Ivory! She ran to the pile, no longer minding the thick squelch as her hooves dug through the membrane. The smell of bile hit her face and the acid stung at the wounds on her front hooves, but it only quickened her movements. She uncovered a slimy pony flank and wiped at the fluids, looking for a mark. Joy knotted up her throat as she saw a familiar open book and key. She wrapped her arms around the thin pony’s middle and yanked, hard. A slightly acid burned and bloodied Ivory Spire slid out from the pile, her head lolling and her horn sparking. “Ivory!” Muse shouted, shaking her friend. Not thinking, Muse began roughly shaking the unicorn her only focus on seeing the blonde mare’s eyes open. With a hacking gasp, Ivory’s rose eyes opened and Muse threw her hooves around the unicorn, unable to make sounds more intelligible than a squeal. “Others…” the unicorn breathed. "Need...save...the parasites" Her eyes closed and she pointed her horn at the pile and tried to concentrate. The horn sparked again, and the unicorn spasmed in pain. Muse however understood the unicorn. Somehow, Ivory had been protecting the last survivors of Appleloosa. Not needing confirmation, Muse quickly dove back into the pile, feeling Ivory’s eyes on her. ` “How many, Ivory?” the pegasus asked, glancing back at the slumped over pony. She heard an indistinct mumble, and Muse glanced back at Ivory desperately. “Come on Ivory, you need to tell me! How many ponies did you save?” “...six.” In awe, Muse unearthed four ponies and a young buffalo filly, all missing patches of hair from the stomach acid, but all alive. One of the ponies, a stallion, helped Muse dig for the last survivor. The other adult, a pregnant mare sat with a teenage filly, a colt, and the buffalo. Muse searched for the sixth pony, not daring to breath or think too deeply about who she hoped was buried somewhere within. The stallion called her over, tugging at a hoof, and Muse rushed over searching for the sign she was looking for. Her heart swelled and the pegasus’ eyes watered in relief at the pinto coat. All her aches and pain vanished as she helped the stallion pull Dusty from the sludge. He looked battered and worse for the wear but smiled thinly as Muse wrapped her hooves around him in a hug. “I’m so sorry,” she repeated over and over. Another pair of hooves joined the hug, and Muse opened her eyes to see the unicorn rest her head against Muse’s shoulder. The three friends held each other for a moment, before Muse glanced over to look at the five Appleloosans. There were survivors, Muse felt hope flicker inside her. She had not planned on surviving this cave in, but now she had found a purpose and with it, life. She needed to save these ponies. She needed to find whatever remained of Equestria. It gave her the strength to stand and know exactly what to say. “We’re going to get out of here, “ she told the survivors. “ And then we’re going to Princess Twilight’s castle. Hoof in hoof, together. But I need you to be strong for just a little bit longer. Celestia is protecting you. All of you,” Muse added, placing a hoof on the buffalo’s shoulders. Muse glanced at Ivory and Dusty. “I have a plan.” Ivory and the purple stallion who called himself Harvest Berry had gathered at the door with the others. They watched as Dusty and Muse each lifted an end of one fallen beam. “You sure you can handle this?” asked Muse. Dusty looked exhausted, but nodded as he shouldered the beam. Muse glanced at the last beam. She was pretty sure that the second it went down, the room would collapse. They just had to hit it once with as much force as possible. Between the two of them. Muse lifted the beam, flapping her wings as she strained to aim the battering ram. “Let me help,” Harvest Berry was suddenly beside her, shouldering the beam. Muse opened her mouth to tell the stallion to get back to the door, but the pony cut her off, “If he can help you, so can I. Appleloosans share.” Muse closed her mouth. The three of them. The teenage filly suddenly broke off, inspired, and joined the others at the beam. She glared at Muse, daring the pegasus to argue. Muse raised an eyebrow, but just shook her head and focused on the job. “Ready?” she called to the others, squaring her shoulders. They answered by getting in position, faces grave and focused. “CHARGE!” The four ponies galloped with their makeshift battering ram and slammed it against the loadbearing beam with all their combined might. The pillar snapped, and the ceiling splintered and cracked. Muse held her legs tight against her body as she spun away from a falling chunk of ceiling and streamlined her body to zoom towards the exit. She dashed through and skidded to a landing behind Ivory. The three earth ponies galloped to safety as the ceiling gave way and collapsed, filling the room with debris. The ponies cheered and Muse hovered back in the air, rallying them forward. “Come on! To the back exit!” she shouted, leading the way. The group galloped down the halls, hearing other parts of the Town Hall beginning to collapse, Muse flying above them to lead the way. As they turned the last corner, Muse felt her heart sink, the pony slowing slightly as everything went wrong. As though in slow motion, Muse watched Harvest Berry galloping slightly ahead of the group, his head turned to check on the foals. Then a fully grown parasite appeared from the darkness, its long reptilian maw opening to flash the rows of jagged teeth before burying them in Harvest Berry’s neck. The purple stallion’s eyes widened in shock, as blood spurted from the wound and sprayed across his flesh. The creature jerked its head and tore a chunk of ragged, stringy flesh and sinew from the pony’s neck. Muse glimpsed Harvest’s pale trachea and the ruptured artery as it sprayed blood over the faces of the terrified foals. Before Harvest could even hit the floor, a second monster buzzed through the air and clamped its jaws over Harvest’s face, ripping it off before the stallion even had a chance to scream. The creatures were returning from Muse and Striker’s distraction. And they were mad. Screams pierced the air as the ponies gathered in a tight group. A third monster charged at Muse as she flew backwards, trying to twist away from its clicking teeth. It snatched her by the tail and slammed her into a wall, stunning the pegasus. Muse struggled to blink away the stars as the buglike monster reared back and poised to finish her off. Then its head exploded. A brown blur entered the fray through a window, showering the ponies in glass and slamming one of the creatures into a wall. The tawny, brown feathered thing dove to the ground and stopped beside Muse. “Come on, Cupcake. This is your rescue mission,” Striker smirked at the stunned pegasus. Then he spun back into the fight, pouncing onto a monster as it snapped at the colt. His back paws pierced the creature’s skull as he took aim and fired at another. The griffon took off into the air, taking the dead creature at his paws with him, to throw at a pair of creatures as they scuttled into the room. “Get your ponies out of here,” Striker was barking orders at Muse. “We need to make a quick exit.” Muse shook off the shock and hurried to the others. “Let’s go,” she said, scooping up the colt. Dusty took her example and nudged the buffalo filly. She happily jumped onto his back and wrapped her spindly legs around him. With that, the ponies ran to the exit, dodging the aerial battle happening around them. Muse headbutted the door open and the ponies poured outside, feeling the fresh air cleanse them. A wooden carriage sat right outside, its doors opened purposefully. Muse helped the colt into the carriage and was helping the pregnant mare, when her nose scrunched up. She had forgotten something. The saddlebags. Cursing, Muse scrambled back towards the door. She heard Dusty and Ivory shout, but ignored them and dove back inside. She ran to the alcove, and her hoof managed to scrape the straps when a shock of ripping, searing pain struck her back leg. Muse looked back to see one of the monsters had clamped onto her hindleg and was tearing at her skin. Her blood sprayed through the air in a pretty arc as the world went foggy and lost its clarity. The pony tried to kick at the monster, though she could feel her muscles slowing, failing to listen to her earnest attempts to live. Her gaze slid back to the saddlebags, and she reached for them again, longingly. She had been so stupid… A loud crack shot off in the air, and the monster flipped into the air and tumbled onto the ground yards away, its legs twitching in death. Muse stared at the mottled brown feathers as the griffon landed beside her. “Damn it, you stupid pony,” she could hear him swearing. His talons touched her flank, and she heard more swears and the sound of gunfire. Then Muse and the saddlebags lifted in the air. The dingy light of the world outside hit her face, and then the comforting smell of oak and leather. She could hear the wind and the clattering of the carriage and worried voices as something put pressure on Muse’s leg. Faces swam in and out of her vision, the only one really coming into focus being Dusty’s spotted face with his striking green eyes. “I got the supplies,” Muse slurred, her hooves weakly grasping at the bags. She fumbled with them for what felt like hours, before managing to slide out the now slightly creased photo of Dusty and his family. “We all have family,” Muse mumbled, before giving in to the pain and the exhaustion and the deep darkness. > Into The Woods > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Shock- Muse’s heart throbbing angrily in her ears as if screaming for survival. Prickling air rushing to slap the opened flesh somewhere on her body. Smell of blood, sweat and apples. Hooves rushing to touch Muse everywhere. Speech sloshed in and out of intelligible language. Her head lolling back and forth like a ragged, sad doll. As everything swirled and blurred into nothingness. Appleloosa sank into the distance, smoke from the smoldering fires adding a hazy dreariness to the rising morning... Muse’s woke to a stomach twisting lurch as though her gut had abruptly bottomed out. Then it was pain, hot and searing like millions of needles digging along her flank. Her cheek scraped along a wool cushion which felt uncomfortably warm. She groaned, the feeling of the fast drop pushing bile up her throat. She needed to feel the cold air against her flushed face- the stuffy warmth here was too stifling. As if in answer to her silent pleas, the carriage (she was in a carriage?) smashed to the ground, rattling the already dizzying world around her. The jolting motion was finally too much, and the pegasus began heaving, though nothing came out. A door opened, sending in a cool rush of evening air that caressed her cheeks. Nervous hooves trampled out of the carriage, carrying equally nervous voices with them. “It’s okay Mornin’ Blossom. Just breathe now. Ah got you, Ah got you,” a deep drawling voice was saying. Dusty. The image of the spotted pony in a photograph from long ago briefly entered Muse’s mind as she struggled to make sense of her surroundings. “Ah cain’t Dusty, Ah cain’t. Ah can feel’em! Ah-Ah-Ah-” a nervous mare’s voice began hyperventilating in between wet whimpering sobs. “Please Blossom, sit down and breathe. We’ll get you some water,” Muse recognized Ivory’s voice as it shook slightly. Muse could hear some commotion, and the hyperventilating mare quieted down. “Thank you Flitting Hoof,” Ivory said quietly. “We can’t stop here,” a familiar growl chimed in. Muse could imagine the slithering prowl of the griffon matching the annoyance in his voice. “We gotta tend to Blossom here,” Dusty replied stoically, and perhaps a bit rudely. “We’ll get along just as soon as we make sure she’s fine.” “You can do that in the carriage, buckaroo,” Striker replied. The two voices did not sound like tolerant pals. Muse’s head cleared enough for her to squint around at her surroundings. Through the carriage door she saw the dark shapes of Striker and Dusty standing off. She pushed herself up with her front hooves, attempting to drag herself out the door to intervene. This was not how their first impressions of each other was supposed to go. “Ah don’t appreciate being called ‘buckaroo’, griffon.” “Get back in the carriage, buddy.” “Ah ain’t your buddy, pal.” “It’s getting worse, Mister Striker,” Ivory cut in timidly. Muse could see the griffon stop, looking over at the blonde mare in stunned disbelief at the honorific. Despite the tension in the air, Muse giggled to herself at the absurdity of calling the griffon a ‘Mister’. “How is stopping out in the open going to help?” Striker asked, ear tufts twitching slightly. “We need to rethink the best course to take,” Ivory pushed out, clearly trying to make a show of not being intimidated by the griffon. Her voice still quavered slightly. Striker made an aggravated predatory noise, “I’m not going to that stupid fracking forest. You have five minutes before I take off again.” The tawny griffon brushed by the carriage door as he made his exit. His yellow eyes peered down at Muse slumped in the carriage’s opening. The griffon paused for a moment to survey her curiously, before he said, “I hope you can pound some sense into these ass-tats, Cupcake.” All eyes went to Muse, who had managed to haphazardly drag herself into the doorway of the carriage. She squinted at the ragged looking group. Dusty busied himself with searching inside the Apple family saddlebags. The others stared at Muse with a strange, hopeful alertness. The pegasus did not like the feel of their eyes on her, searching for something. Muse was missing something, some piece of context to explain why their eyes were so fixated on her. She looked at the pregnant mare, the buffalo filly standing protectively beside her, and the colt and teenage filly huddled together. Feeling a prickling embarrassment creeping over her, Muse opened her mouth to speak. Before she could say anything, Dusty was beside her, his shadow falling over her. He ignored her, glancing back at the blonde unicorn. “Ivory,” he called before nosing Muse into an upright position. Muse made a small squeak of protest, squirming back onto the stuffy compartment as Dusty squeezed in behind her. The pale unicorn hopped into the carriage and leaning her head out to grip the door handle pulled it shut. The carriage’s confined space closed in on the three, dim and stifling to Muse’s sensitive stomach. “We need to talk, Muse,” Ivory whispered. The suddenness of this meeting cast aside, Muse’s head was flooded with all the bubbling questions inside her. “How are you alive?” There was relief in the question, but also a baffled confusion.The two glanced at each other. “A shield spell,” Ivory said. “I read about it once- the old Crystal Empire’s king was well known for them.” “Ivory figured it all out right when...as they took us,” Dusty’s voice came out oddly stilted. The stallion glanced at Ivory briefly before dropping his gaze, adding, “Somethin’ about bile an’ such.” “It was less ‘figured out’ and more of a guess,” Muse could hear a blush in Ivory’s voice before she continued hurriedly. “But after...Lottie, there was enough evidence to suggest that the parasites’ reproductive cycle requires larva to grow within a cocoon that supplies them with...well...food.” Muse wrinkled her nose in disgust. Food was officially ruined by these things. “So, the bile smell was acid softening up the victims for the larvae to feast on?” The pegasus asked, nodding slowly as she connected the dots. “What a delightful potluck.” “Exactly. The parasites grouped us with the others, and began making the cocoons...I figured, if I could wrap us all in a shield strong enough...as long as we were protected from the acid and the larvae we could survive long enough for…” Ivory’s rose colored eyes flickered up to meet Muse’s gaze. “Long enough for you to come back.” Muse felt the air escape her lungs as a leaden weight struck her in the chest and settled in the pit of her gut. The memory of Ivory, clinging to the windowsill, her hair slick with sweat and her eyes wide with pure terror. Her screams drowned out by buzzing wings. The sight of Dusty beaten and dragged away by those things- those parasites. Muse had lost it. Muse had failed. “You still trusted me?” She asked thickly, eyes fixated on the green and orange threads making up the cushion beneath her hooves. The leaden weight pushed up into her lungs, making it hard to breathe. It was hard to wrap around this level of unassuming responsibility and trust, and the pressure of it made the pony’s mind choke and bluster internally. “But I’m...a terrible pony.” Ivory’s spindly legs wrapped Muse into a hug. The unicorn rested her head against Muse’s as she contemplated an answer. “Well,” she began. “You aren’t the worst pony.” Muse leaned back from the embrace stiffly, cringing at the pain on her flank. She glanced back at her injured leg, its wound, and her cutie mark, hidden by blood crusted bandages. A morbid curiosity gripped her, begging her to take a peek beneath the bandages- to see the shredded flesh for herself. At the same time, the pegasus dreaded seeing it, knowing that the sight very well might steal her consciousness from her. Shaking the thoughts out if her head, she glanced back at Ivory and Dusty. “So then, the shield worked? Everypony is okay?” The two others glanced at each other again, and Muse’s leaden weight sunk once more. “No,” Dusty said flatly. “My shield wasn’t exactly royalty level,” Ivory said, her voice dropping into a low, mournful tone. “It was enough to keep us from dying immediately. But… well. You saw us when we got out.” Muse blinked, recalling the extraction of the ponies. “You looked pretty gruesome.” “Exactly,” Ivory said fearfully. “The acid was able to get in.” “An’ we’re worried about what else got in,” Dusty finally spoke up. “You’re joking,” Muse said, staring at the two. Their grim expressions said otherwise. Dusty took out a stethoscope from his saddlebags and gave them to Muse. “Take a listen,” he said simply, adjusting to expose his stomach. No, her brain told Muse firmly, this is insane. She put the earpieces in and pressed the chest piece against his stomach. She moved it around slightly, straining her ears for something. Then, a low, pulsing, churning noise, the sound of things that didn't belong wriggling and moving en mass. Her hoof brushed against Dusty’s stomach, and underneath it his flesh moved unnaturally. Muse jerked back in horror, for a moment thinking that she saw a lump press against Dusty’s stomach before vanishing. “No,” She hissed, ears flattening. It wasn’t fair. This wasn’t supposed to happen. She had come back. She had saved them. Everything was supposed to be fine. Muse looked between them in shock. “Both of you?” “Most likely,” Ivory answered, her gaze dropping away from Muse out of some strange guilt. “And Morning Blossom.” “The little’uns haven’t shown any signs yet. We’re hoping…” Dusty let silence finish his sentence as he sat up. Muse returned his stethoscope, a hoof running through her mane. “What. What do we do,” she asked. “Is there a plan?” “Everfree,” said the pinto pony. “Ivory and Blossom think some plants there can make a brew to expel the larvae before they...age.” “Everfree?” Muse inhaled sharply. “But Everfree is-” “The Equestrian hotspot for magically enhanced flora,” Ivory answered. Muse shook her head slowly. “But we’re heading to Ponyville. Princess Twilight’s castle is there,” She protested. “Somepony there can help.” “If anypony is there instead of out handling this Tartarus situation,” Ivory replied. “But even if ponies ARE there, it’s still at least a couple days away assuming your griffon friend can keep this pace up.” The unicorn locked eyes with Muse, an urgent expression etched across her long face. “We have no idea how quickly these parasites mature. We don’t know how bad the symptoms will get. Everfree forest is right beside us. Cutting through Everfree might save our lives.” “Going into that place might cost us our lives,” Muse retorted angrily. Ivory sighed deeply, her head lowering. Then, she straightened back up, looking at Muse in the dark, her eyes squinting slightly to compensate for her long lost glasses. “Don’t we deserve the chance to try to save ourselves?” she asked simply. Ivory was different, Muse realized, studying the unicorn closely. The terrified, falling apart unicorn from their first night together was gone. She had come out of that cocoon stronger, more confident in the face of this new obstacle. Maybe it was Muse’s turn to blindly trust somepony. “You’re sure?” Muse asked. The blonde pony blinked once, then glanced out the carriage window where the survivors of Appleloosa were huddled. “I have to be,” Ivory intoned. Muse sighed. There was only one other member of their brigade to convince. --- “It’s a stupid decision, Cupcake,” the griffon said, tossing a stick to the side as though it had immensely disappointed him somehow. Muse limped alongside him, her legs shaking beneath her. Finding Striker had not been as hard as she had feared. After she left the company of Ivory and Dusty, he had swooped down from the clouds and began walking briskly beside her. His appearance was nearly silent and ghostlike- something she suspected he did on purpose to unsettle her. It worked, but Muse was doing her best to pretend otherwise while walking with the predator. “Cutting through Everfree gets to Ponyville faster than going around,” Muse pointed out. Striker snorted at that offering, the griffon’s tail swatting the air. “Everfree was a terrible fracking place before the stars went out. Now? I imagine it’s filled with monsters happy to nosh on idiot ponies who skip on in,” He snipped out a reply before finally jumping up to the top of the carriage and laying down. “Don’t be such a drama queen,” Muse rolled her eyes. The pony eased herself in a sitting position, wincing at the pain. Above her the griffon huffed. “You have your gun back!” “Ammo runs out eventually, Cupcake,” Striker almost sounded sulky. Muse unfolded her wings, ready to fly up and approach the seemingly upset griffon, when he added: “Especially when I’ve been forced to babysit a group of useless herbivores.” “You can leave if you want to, Striker,” Muse growled in frustrated exasperation. “I’m not going to bucking stop you. After all, you did so well on your own last time.” That seemed to catch Striker's ire, as he leaned over the edge, looking at her sharply with his narrowed golden eyes. The two held each other’s gaze silently, waiting for the other to fold. Striker’s tufts pulled back and his talons flexed, scratching at the air. Muse’s ear twitched slightly, but her own eyes narrowed slightly. Finally, Striker hopped off the carriage, and began examining the leads and harness. “Get them inside then,” the griffon said, looking at the darkening sky darkly. “I’m not staying in the open any longer.” --- Liftoff was awkward and strained- the griffon clearly needing to work to get the unwieldy carriage in the air. Eventually though, the ground rolled away, and the dark mass of Everfree forest became their new compass point. Inside the carriage it was crowded. Muse was squished between the pregnant mare named Morning Blossom and Ivory, and she desperately tried to think of a distraction from her longing for their window seats. She looked over the Appleloosans and realized suddenly that they were complete strangers to her. “I guess introductions are in order,” she said lamely. Morning Blossom wiped away any trace of wetness from her cheeks, and put on a weak, strained smile. “Ah’m yer nurse,” the pretty pink earth mare said as her eyes studied Muse’s flank, the smile dropping into a worried, pursed expression. Muse’s ears flattened anxiously, more than a small part of her trying to avoid following the mare’s eyes. Whatever was happening back there, it had to be better to simply deny anything was wrong rather than actually look at it. Muse refocused her attention on the three younger ones. The little seafoam green colt huddled between the legs of the purple teenager, watching Muse with baleful round eyes. “Is he your brother?” Muse asked the teenager. The filly flicked her mane out of her eyes. “Quarter Pint here? Nah. Ah was his foalsitter,” she wrapped the colt in a one legged hug. Her eyes were blank and hollow as she stared into the vacant distance. “His folks were out square dancin’.” The filly grew silent for a moment. Finally, not raising her eyes, “My name is Honey Harvest.” Muse’s stomach dropped, recognizing the deep purple of the filly’s coat. The image of her father’s head being wrenched from his body burned against Muse’s eyes. For the second time, she felt as though her insides had been scraped empty, and Muse was lost. She wondered if the filly blamed her, and in wondering that, realized that it wasn’t a terribly outrageous thing to think. Muse had been loud and clumsy in the town hall. She hadn’t been on the lookout for the creatures, even though she knew they would inevitably return. She had promised to get them all out. Blinking away the memory, Muse noticed the splatter of blood stained in the filly’s hair. Honey’s head lowered, looking away from Muse. “Ah know,” she said before Muse could form the thousands of apologies she wanted to spill. Silence settled back over the carriage, and Muse found herself too tired and embarrassed to fight when Ivory and Morning Blossom asked to check Muse’s wounds. She rested her head on the backboard of the carriage and stared at the ceiling as they peeled off the bandages and began whispering. Though Morning Blossom was an earth pony, apparently the Appleloosa doctor had been a unicorn. She began describing certain medical spells to Ivory in a murmured conversation as they attempted to clean and salvage Muse’s flank. Somehow, Muse managed to tune out the world, lost in her own silent musings about parasites and larvae and the looming sense that perhaps nothing was going to be alright. How could it, when the best option they had was going into a forest of cockatrice and manticore and timberwolves? Her insides rattled against one another uncertainly, as the pony struggled to avoid thinking too hard about the very real threat of the parasites inside her only companions. All she could muster was a plaintive echo that it just wasn’t fair. Finally, night firmly settled over everything, she felt the carriage hit the ground and roll to a halt. Everyone staggered out of the carriage, relieved to no longer be rocking back and forth in the air. Quarter Pint was fast asleep on Honey Harvest’s back. The buffalo filly, who Muse vaguely recalled being called Flitting Hoof, walked beside Morning Blossom, her brown eyes widening at the sight of the huge, ominous forest. The group of seven equines clustered together, staring at the gnarled faces of the weathered trees and their knobbly roots. The silent wilderness looked down upon the ponies and the end of the gentle plains; an impassive, invincible force waiting to swallow the ponies whole. Too tired to contemplate the forest much more, the ponies- joined by a drained looking Striker all stumbled towards a particularly large tree, and crawled inside its hollowed out roots. The foals almost immediately fell into a heap in a way that only children can, pressed up against Morning Blossom as she eased herself down. Muse, Ivory and Dusty were left standing, surveying the area nervously, avoiding one another’s gaze. Not helping, was the silence that had been surrounding Dusty ever since Muse had woken up. His occasional glances toward her continually felt less like a check up, and more like a consideration happening somewhere behind his neutral expression. She felt like she had to say something to him, to both of them. Words struggled to trip past Muse’s tongue. Then, out of the corner of Muse’s eyes she saw Striker tense and stand, his ear tufts perked as he emerged from his shadowy corner, staring out into the dark forest. The other three didn’t hear whatever the griffon could, but after a moment, they all felt it: deep reverberations in the earth. Then the groaning crack of trees, and the heavy thud of something on the move. It moved with the careless and languid gait of a god surveying its throne room. Walking on all fours, the top of its back rose above the tops of the ancient trees which bent before its presence. Dappled moonlight slid over the black, leathery wrinkles of its legs as thick as tree trunks. It groaned as it moved, a low, grinding croon that sent paranoid whispers running through the back of Muse’s mind as it moved past. The pegasus craned to see the top of it, to find any identifiable head or anatomy. Despite not seeing any glimmer of eyes, she felt it observing her, as if simply passing by her it knew her with a strange offhanded intimacy. She felt violated and exposed, but if it did truly know she was there, the things was immensely unconcerned as it groaned its way past. Her legs trembled, wanting to flee, to bolt far from this impossibly large thing. A harsh yank on her tail shook her from the bubbling panic for her to realize that she had unconsciously begun walking out of their little haven. She looked back to see Striker holding her by her tail. His eyes were focused on the thing as it passed, and for the first time she did not see contempt or disdain across the griffon’s face; but pure terror. They huddled together in the dark, all four of them, watching and listening to It as It passed them by. Its indifferent disregard to their existence lingered on her mind as the vibrations of its steps slowly faded. She fell asleep with tears rolling down her cheeks.