Cinders Form From Silence.

1422 Post Celestial Dominion, Homeland, Equestria.

“Calling to order State Commander Colt Creed for the case 65231-Z.”

“Present.”

The judge slammed his gavel down to the pedestal and the crowd of Equines ran silent. The only ones still standing were Colt Creed, the Commander of Canterlot’s MHO Division, and the accused criminal. The Judge sighed as he took a peek at the time left.

“Case 65231-Z, the accused party is in violation of the Monster Hunter’s Organization, hereby referred to as the MHO, trade rules for engagement with Monsters, Demonic Entities, and Spectral Beings.” The Judge had to remove his glasses and rub the eyes underneath. “This includes 47 accounts of disobedience, 32 accounts of ruthless violence against MHO Alleged Members, 184 accounts of hunting Beasts without an active permit nor permission from your commanding officer, and 213 accounts of…”

The Judge had to re-read this one several times.

“... 213 accounts of sparing monsters with a Death Warrant placed onto their head?”

The defendant, a Pegasis of white fur and a single tired, burning cyan eye, said nothing. He just continued staring into the Judge’s soul. Suddenly, the chains and wraps that littered his body seemed less sturdy against his hardened frame.

The Judge wiped sweat from his forehead. “Regiment Commander, what is the stated punishment for the above crimes in the M.H.O Hunter’s Rulebook?”

Colt Creed stood up, surprisingly short for an Earth Pony General, his orange coat and soot-black mane shining with a sheet of sweat that soaked through his uniform. It was unbearably hot, the Judge thanking his ancestors for the creation of localized frost magic.

“For the crime of Disobedience, 24 hours community service per count. For attacking MHO Aligned organizations or members, Civil Arrest for up to 2 months per count. For hunting without an authorized license or permission, forced return to basic training, and permanent removal of official Hunter Status if the count exceeds 10 counts.” The commander adjusted his tie.

“On terms of sparing beasts, to be frank, there haven’t been any rules dedicated to this action, as nopony actually disobeys a Kill Order. This is a first for us, your Honor.”

The Judge sighed and returned his gaze to the defendant. “Flame Storm, do you have any defense for your actions?”

The pegasus was still silent, his freakishly tall frame only making the sounds of his left wing, the only one remaining, softly cracking and creaking echoing throughout the court. The Judge bit his lip. “In that case, Commander, what is your proposed action?”

Colt furrowed his brows and snarled. “Death. This bastard has put us back thousands upon thousands of bonds, not to mention the risks of letting those Werewolves go in the eastern Canterlot block.” His glare became toxic. “Thankfully, we caught them before they could escape. They’ll be executed once this little issue is dealt with. Shame about the filly, but the cursed cannot be allowed free, much as Rookie here wants to believe.”

The Accused finally made some form of motion, that being the straining against the chains binding his body. The Judge didn’t have any trust in metal, considering the notes he had on how the Accused had lifted an Earth Pony Juggernaut over his head. 500 pounds of pure muscle, and 60 pounds of armor, thrown around like a damn Pillow.

“I have to disagree, Commander.” The Judge sighed. “As you know, we are in the middle of a Monster Epidemic. Every day, there’s news of some new attack, or a town falling to those damnable beasts.”

He raised his gavel, and turned to the silent court beside him. Ever since Equiis had been drowned in monsters rising from the darkest depths of Tartarus, diplomacy and democracy had been thrown away. The Court was simply a group of Canterlot’s wise elders, those who had yet to fall to the Hoards, and they made every decision. One nodded, and the Judge brought his gavel down.

“Monster Hunter Sargent Flame Storm, you will be stripped of your rank, uniform, and title, and will be assigned to the Ponyville branch of the MHO. In all likelihood, you will die in a week’s time, but you will serve to the end. As Celestia Demands.”

“As Celestia Demands.” The Court mimicked.

Two guards flanked Flame Storm, and he was led away, the silence only broken by the heavy hooffalls of the three. The Judge sighed, and rubbed his eyes.

“I highly doubt this is a wise idea, your honor.” Colt growled. “He’s a danger to us all, he Cannot be allowed free reign.”

“I doubt you have a better idea.” The Judge scoffed. “If we ordered him to Death, he’d have an excuse to lash out. And I Know for a fact that you, nor any of your soldiers, have the gaul to attack him.”

Colt raised a brow. “He’s but a single Stallion, and there is three hundred and seventy two of us! I train my men day in, day out to be efficient killers, and that’s without mentioning the Unicorns. or the Pegasi we armed with bombs.”

To be honest, the Judge couldn’t help but Laugh. “Efficient? I took a walk just yesterday, Colt, and I saw one of your soldiers trying to bum a drink off of a barmaid by saying he was a, what was it…” He chuckled. “That’s right, a ‘Big Shot Soldier’. He got man-handled and thrown out by the same barmaid.”

Colt rolled his eyes. “That’s just one example.”

“Yes, and here’s a second. Last week, I saw a group trying to gang up on a Royal Guardswoman for her weekly salary. Turns out, I actually sent those punks to jail about 5 years ago for the same swindling scam.” The Judge leaned in close. “She laid them flat out on their asses without even trying. One of them started crying for his mama, Colt.”

Colt looked away from the Judge’s furrowed brow.

“You know how bad that looks, Colt. Eight Hunters get beaten half to Tartarus by one Guard, how do you think the Ponies you’re meant to protect feel? They see those sorry sacks of shit wander into every bar you can find just to get drunk and get some tail, and if they don’t get their way, they call for their rich parents. You aren’t operating a military operation, you’re running a Daycare.”

The Judge leaned back and rubbed his gray-lined mane. “Flame Storm was the only one with actual experience. No background, no bitching, no care about the pay. He came here to fight.” He took a long sip of his tea. “And now, you forced my hand, and he’s now being shipped off to a town where every new recruit we’ve sent has either died a horrible death, or has been shipped back for insubordination.”

Colt bit his lip and turned hoof, done with the insulting truths. The Judge just rubbed his eyes and leaned back.

“We might as well be hiring the Royal Guard for all the trouble you’ve gotten us into…”

The prison carrier Flame Storm had been saddled up into the back of was bumpy.

That’s all he really cared about. The chains binding his wrists and arms hardly bothered him, nor did the lingering summer heat, slowly fading into the fall’s cold biting air. Well, there was also the horrific smell of the guards outside the bars, leading the tamed Timberwolves, but it wasn’t any worse than the smell of an undead infested cavern, or most of Colt’s soldiers after a day of training, heh.

Frankly, he was more worried about accidentally breaking the chains. They skimped on the materials for them, clearly using any good metals on weapons and armor, leaving poor copper and aluminum to attempt holding prisoners. It was honestly quite embarrassing, as even a baby Cockatrice could break them, with their weak and flabby little beaks.

Outside, he could hear the guards caring more about paltry gossip than actually focusing on the road ahead of them.

“So, this guy, Fire Weather or whatever, he’s a hunter?”

“Flame Storm, but yeah. Disgraced one, too. The Judge up in Canterlot actually denied the death penalty in favor of shipping him to Ponyville.”

“Weird, dude. I mean, you see this guy? He’s friggin’ Blind in one eye, only got one wing, and his hand barely works, no way he’s as deadly as ponies are saying.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, rumor is this guy took on a Werebear solo, and came back wearing it’s hide as a coat.”

“Bulllllll-shit!”

“That’s what I said!”

Flame Storm rolled his eyes. They were right, in that he didn’t wear the Werebear’s pelt as a coat, but he did kill it solo. Of course, not without some consequences, namely the new scar across his side, the three claws that the Werebear had left made his platemail as effective as a wet tissue.

But hey, it made room for him to get it into a strangle-hold and bring it down with a neck snap, so it was worth the blood loss.

“Any other news from those rich assholes?”

“Well, a group of werewolves got caught in the Eastern section of Canterlot, apparently the guy back here fought off every damn soldier sent their way to make an escape route for them. Didn’t work, and I heard they’re planning on executing them tonight.”

“Oh, wait, I think I heard about that one! Yeah, I think Princess Celestia pardoned them.”

“What?!” The first guard balked at his buddy.

“Yeah. I might be wrong though, the news is still really sparse.”

“Crazy if she did, though. Why would she give freaks like that a passing chance?”

‘Because one of them was a child, and the other two were her parents,’ Flame Storm internally growled. ‘They only lashed out because ponies like You tried killing them with no regard.’

His annoyance finally made him move just so, and one of the chains holding his arms taught snapped like a frayed rope. The guards didn’t notice, too enraptured by their own gossip to even notice the time. However, to Flame Storm’s “joy”, he began to notice the barren forests and hills morph into houses and Equines, civilization at last.

“Finally at Ponyville, Prisoner.” One of the guards called out. “Remember, you’re being watched at all times. Won’t even be able to use the outhouse without somepony having an arrow pointed at you.” He chuckled. “Not that you’ll be alive long enough to use it. Nopony lasts more than a few days out here, other than the locals.”

The prison carriage came to a halt, just before a massive forest that simply poured out darkness. The guards hopped down, dropped the gate that kept Flame Storm inside, and pulled him out. Almost just as quickly, they hopped back on and ushered the Timberwolves forward.

They pulled away laughing. “Have fun in the Everfree, Traitor!”

Flame Storm flexed his arms, shattering the remaining chains. Everfree, the name lingered in the back of his throat. He recognized it, distantly, murmurs from young fillies and colts who heard whispers not meant for them. A forest that grew freely, away from the Magic that bled from Earth Ponies, cloud formations that moved without the interference of Pegasi, and a flow of Dark Magic that could shake even the most bolstered Unicorn Sorcerer.

His nose twitched, and he breathed in deep the miasma that the Everfree exuded.

Smelled like…

Flame Storm rose a hand to his eye, to the half of his face embraced in burned and twisted flesh. His remaining eye sharpened.

Smelled like Rotten Memories.

Pushing aside old memories, he gave the forest another look, this time spotting an old log cabin just a few meters beyond the mouth. With no other direction or goal, he made his way in.

The door was stuck in place by vines and odd blue moss, but both relented once he gave the door a soft kick. The inside was, just like the outside, old and musty, smelling like the oldest tomes Canterlot’s library held. In the corner was a wooden bed, no mattress, covers, or pillow, seated next to a bedside table, whose lone drawer had been ripped in half. What looked like blood splattered it, likely years old by now.

Whoever lived here last likely suffered at the hands, claws, or even hooves of those that called the Everfree home.

In the opposite corner was a sink, tap still dripping water, somehow, and a single mirror, covered in dust. In the center of the single room cabin was a couch, table, and fireplace. The wood was ashen and sooty, but could still be used.

And on the final wall, the one closest to the door, was a newer table, with a stripped down MHO Radio. Flame Storm recognized it from his years of working for the MHO, these things were used for Prisoners or untrustworthy soldiers. His brow furrowed and gave it a once-over.

There was a note on it. Plucking it free, it read;

‘To Prisoner 665021,

Welcome to your new home. Whenever you are needed for Hunting Operations, we will contact you on the radio. Do not attempt to leave this cabin at night, or we will activate the Kill Radius Spell outside of your cabin. Do Not leave unless given explicit orders.’

Flame Storm’s brow twitched. Kill Radius? He didn’t feel any magic in the area, nor any runes on the ground. He looked about, but saw nothing. Hm. Must have worn off years ago.

Now he was left with a little choice. Flame Storm could leave the cabin and fuck off, abandoning this foolish organization, or find a MHO operative to reinstate the Kill Radius.

Why would he do that, though? Simple. Running would lead to idiots following his trail for years on end in an attempt to kill him, which would make His duty difficult.

Simple as could be.

So, Flame Storm opened the door and left, looking out to the village, dusted in the Twilight’s fading embers. With a huff, he began his trek.

“Ponyville”, as it turned out, was a nosey place. The moment he had walked within town borders, ponies were looking at him in an instant. Some shied away into their homes, parents pulling their foals away from the road he walked, and a few guards gazing upon him in Shock.

Flame Storm was tempted to ask one of them where he could find any MHO members, but whenever he drew close, they scampered off, tails between their legs. It was really annoying, honestly. Honestly, living so close to a cursed forest, being accosted by Death every other week, and being the first line of defense between Canterlot and literally every militaristic threat possible, you’d think they’d have thicker skin.

So far, he thought he was somewhere in a market of sorts, silently missing his bag full of bits he stored at his old house, which was probably stolen by now, because some of the apples he saw on sale looked really good to his starved stomach. (Wasn’t it illegal to starve prisoners?)

To his surprise, something actually came up to him, that being a small brown and white dog, who ran head-first into his shin. She flopped over, looking up at him and sniffing the air. Flame Storm blinked at her, she blinked at him, and then jumped up with a bark, propping her legs up on his. Flame Storm couldn’t help but smile and kneel down to her level, letting him see her collar.

“Winona, huh? What are you doing here?” He muttered, flipping the collar over and scratching her chin.

“Winona, dagnabbit dog, where’dja go and get to now?!” A southern accent twitched Flame Storm’s ear, turning back and seeing a mare walking over. He waved to her.

“This your dog, ma’am?”

She sighed and notched her fists to her hips. “Yeah, she is.” Her brow furrowed. “Winona, ah’ done told you time an’ time again, not to run about all wild like that! I can’t stand seeing you end up getting’ hurt by some big ol’ mean freak!”

Winona barked and jumped up into the mare’s arms, and as Flame Storm stood, he took a better look at her.

The mare was almost as tall as he was, just standing under his chin, counting the ten-gallon hat she wore on top of a cream colored mane, combed over and tied down in a ponytail. Her orange fur was worn down with dirt and dust, but that, combined with the flannel and jeans, made it pretty clear she was a farmer of some sort.

She gave him a small smile, surprising Flame Storm with how green her eyes were. He’d seen perfectly carved and shined emeralds before, but even those failed to shimmer like hers.

“Well, I take it yer’ a newcomer, eh?” She stuck her hand out, lugging Winona under her arm. “Name’s Applejack, I’m the owner of the local farm, up north.”

He took her hand. “Flame Storm. Just got dropped off an hour ago.” He grumbled, his throat already growing irritated. Hopefully, being near a town like this can help him recover his voice from the Years of misuse it had taken.

“Hm, Flame Storm… I take it yer’ that prisoner that those shucks up in Canterlot were sendin’ to die?” Applejack eyed him up carefully, her grip becoming a lot tougher. Flame Storm simply nodded, and the mare chuckled. “Well, let me be the first to welcome you to Ponyville. I guess they didn’t give you any orders, or goals, or even a knife or something?”

“No, they did not.”

“Heh, Stallion of few words, huh? Guessin’ them scars on your neck are to blame. Shows you know what you’re doin’, I’d say. Hopefully, that means you can kill things better than those cowards in Town Hall.”

Flame Storm rose a brow.

“Ah, the Town Hall was converted into the Monster Hunter’s main base here in Ponyville. Good fat amount of luck that served! They never send anypony out to help with beasts, always just stay indoors and pray, or drink, depending on the week.” Applejack huffed. “Really, we’ve been holding out on our own for a while now. It’s a sad world when a big sister has to teach her baby sister how to kill.”

Flame Storm patted her back in understanding, distantly remembering his own sister teaching him how to swing a sword. Though, where he came from, death and violence from a young age was expected. Applejack sucked in a breath and righted her expression.

“Well, no point weeping over the necessary. I’m guessing you’re looking for Town Hall now, right?” Flame Storm nodded. “Well, screw dat’! Yer’ new in town, so yer’ gettin’ the whole nine mile tour. Those bumblefucks at the MHO can wait.”

The mare snorted. “Not like they can do anything. They might have taken our weapons away so they can swindle the mayor, but I’m down-right sure even mah’ sister can whip their keisters all the way down to New Reigno!” Applejack chortled. Flame Storm chuckled as well.

Applejack adjusted her hat and gave the stallion a bright smile. “Now then, let’s show you around. First things first, going somewhere to get some actual clothes on your back, those prison threadbear look like Big Mac’s mane in winter. Don’t worry, ah’ know a gal’ out to the east side of town, not too far from here.”

The walk over was filled with Applejack rambling on about the town, the ponies in it, businesses, but spent most of it yappin’ on about the pains in the ass that came with living here.

“You already know about the MHO suckers down in the town square, but there’s also a cursed burial ground about 20 minutes out of town, we gotta deal with a zombie apocalypse every other month, then we gotta deal with Cultists every other week, for some reason there’s some kinda, daemonic summoning stone, or something, underneath the local hospital. nopony’s ever seen it, but the crazies are always talking about it.”

“Sounds like a nightmare.” Flame Storm grumbled. “Why would anypony live here?”

Applejack tipped her hat. “Why, money, of course! Ponyville’s an absolute Nightmare to live in, but the soil is so impossibly rich, you can grow an apple orchard in a week.” She chuckled. “Heck, it’s why my family lives here in the first place, after my Granny founded the town way back when.” With a kick of her hoof, a small patch of grass formed underneath it, taking over the upturned path soil.

“Just a lil’ bit of Magic, and anything can grow here. Probably thanks to the Everfree’s dark magic, and all the cult shenanigans. Helps that we’re also dead center in Equestria, you can get dadgum anywhere just by taking the train here and hoofing it out.”

“Huh.” Flame Storm murmured. His ear twitched. “Wait, your Grandmother founded the town?”

Applejack smiled. “Eyup. A loooong while back, she and the rest of the Apples went and moved here to find habitable land to thrive off of, and she done gone and discovered a new kind of apple, the Zapapple, and from there, a town sprouted on up! Of course, then we discovered it was all kinds of cursed, but- Oh, hey, we’re here.”

Flame Storm looked upon the building Applejack had led him too, and raised a brow. “Rather… bright.”

“Heheh, yeah, that’s Rarity for ya’. We’re not quite Friends, but I’ve known her an’ her sister for a while now. Heck, Applebloom became good friends with the kid.” She adjusted her shirt collar to be a little more straight. “Now, Rarity is pretty… obsessive when it comes to lookin’ all fancy like. Thankfully, she’s got this deal going on with the MHO, free clothes or whatnot for defending the town, so you won’t have to worry about paying. Though, from what I’ve heard, nopony’s taken advantage of the deal.”

She blew a lock of hair out of her eye. “Darn Canterlot air musta gotten to their heads, heh.” And with one last straightening of her clothes, she pulled the door open.

Entering the room with a bell’s chime, a white furred mare was distracted from the preening she was giving her royal purple mane. She was dressed in an ornate blue dress, though going off of the messy stitches and loose straps, it wasn’t quite finished. “Ah, Applejack! Oh, and who might… you… be?”

Rarity had to careen her neck back a bit to stare into the white Stallion’s eye. Fair, considering the height difference of 5’5 to 6’6.

She coughed into her hand and shook her head slightly. “My apologies, I don’t seem to recognize you, mister…?”

“Flame Storm.”

“Heh, he’s not much of a talker, Rarity.” Applejack spoke up from the wall she decided to lean against. “He’s that MHO Prisoner all them soldier boys were yappin’ about yesterday. Course, they didn’t actually prepare for his arrival, so I’m showing him around town.” She left the wall and patted Flame Storm’s shoulder. “They’re probably gonna throw him to the woods damn near buck-naked, so I decided to drag him over here to make use of that deal you made.”

Rarity tapped her chin, before snapping her fingers. “Ah, yes, the clothing deal! You’ll have to excuse me, nopony has taken the deal yet, though they have made a deal about me helping with the wounded…” She trailed off. She shook her head just as fast, quickly turning away and to a rack of clothes her magic had pulled up instinctively once the door had rang. “You’re a lot taller than most clients I see, so I might have to stitch some things together. I’m going to guess you’re looking for a more Roughneck Style, something that won’t come apart easily, but also nothing too eye-catching?”

Flame Storm blinked a few times silently, before hesitantly nodding. Applejack chuckled from beside him, while Rarity simply smiled.

“Good, I’ll be riiight back!” She hummed, making her way to the second floor, followed by the sounds of doors and shelves being opened and closed. After only a few minutes, she returned bearing a bundle of clothes and cloth. “Here, I found a few shirts that should be large enough for somepony your stature, though the pants will need a little adjusting. Here,” Rarity shoved the shirts into Flame Storm’s hands and turned him to another room. “There’s a changing room just over there, see which shirt fits best.”

Flame Storm was ushered off, and Rarity took a seat with her tools. Applejack sat down on a nearby sofa, normally used for Rarity’s fainting spells. “Y’sure they’re gonna fit? Accounting for his wing, and all that.”

“I’m quite sure. It’s one of the plus sized shirts I had left over from last year’s parade led by Cold Stone, a shame the line never went anywhere, but they’ve been gathering dust in the closet.” She explained, gutting the pair of lavender pants she had sourced and readjusting its waistband with spare materials. “I’d have gone with darker tones, but I’m fresh out of black cloth, don’t even have a single flat of navy blue… Hmph, this will do.”

The fashionista reached over and grabbed ahold of a black vest, one with a large red pin stuck into it, and began looking over it. “This was going to be a parting gift, but the client never paid up, so I guess it can serve a new purpose. Let’s see here…”

A few minutes later, Flame Storm walked out of the changing room, now wearing one of the tan long sleeve shirts Rarity had given him. It fit surprisingly well, and the series of buttons around his wing made taking it off and putting it on actually quite easy, for once. For most times, he simply wore the same shirt for days on end to avoid the impossible amounts of agony that came with moving his wing. “It fits well, Rarity.”

“That’s grand, Darling! Here, I’ve finished the pants, and I’ll have a vest ready in juuuust a moment!”

“You don’t have to-”

“Oh shush Darling, it won’t just serve as a fashion piece. The prior commissioner hand delivered me absolutely exquisite materials, including some Dragon’s Hide Leather.” She giggled behind her hand. “It’s not as effective as platemail, but it will help.” With that, she shoved both articles into his hands and pushed him off into the changing room once more.

“Didn’t you just say the vest wasn’t done?”

Rarity giggled. “Magic, my dear friend. You would not believe how fast you can make a cross stitch when you aren’t actually holding the needle.”

Applejack rolled her eyes. “Dadgum magic…”

Flame Storm returned, now dressed in the firm vest. Its collar was loose, showing off a good part of his new shirt, however his line of work wasn't usually concerned with stabbing, so it was enough. Really, more than enough, considering that he rarely wore much armor on hunts, sans a plate of steel armor over his chest, a result of his more fast-set and volatile fighting style.

“Oh, Darling, you look absolutely Dashing! Have you thought about pulling your mane back?” Rarity gushed, but her question was met with the stallion’s eye darting away. For a moment, his hand flexed, as if he wanted to reach up to his messy mane, but he held it still.

“... I’d rather not.”

Rarity pouted at the response. “I think you’d look quite refined, but everypony’s got their limits.” She waved him off and returned to her mirror, picking up the brush she had dropped. “Now then, off you go. I’m quite sure you and Applejack still have quite a lot to go over, hm?”

Applejack raised a brow, surprised at Rarity simply letting go of an opportunity to make somepony ‘beautiful’, but didn’t lean on it. She waved to Flame Storm, instead, heading out the door. “She’s got a point. C’mon now, ah’ still gotta show ya’ the hospital, then town hall.”

Ponyville was… odd, Flame Storm decided. Small, yet gigantic. A town, yet also a city. Loud, yet deafeningly silent. Though, only when he was near. Ponies seemed to jump at the opportunity to talk to Applejack, but the instant they saw even a flash of Flame’s hair, they vanished, like fire to water.

It was almost unnerving. According to Applejack, the town had a couple hundred residents, but it was as crowded as an empty grave.

From there, the short tour ended at Town Hall, where the MHO’s banner, a pony skull highlighted by a Hoof, was placed at the very top. Normally where the Canterlot Battleflag was flown… How pretentious. Applejack shoved her hands into her pockets.

“Well, here we are. Kinda concerned about what they might do to ya’, seeing as you’ve been out all day, but that’s what they get for droppin’ you off in the ass end of nowhere.” With a tip of her hat, she gave Flame one last curt nod. “See you around, Flame. Don’t go dying anytime soon. And hey, if you got the free time, we could always use help around Sweet Apple Acres.”

Flame Storm returned the curt nod and turned to the lantern lit doors. With little fanfare, he pushed them open, exposing the innards of this operation.

Flame Storm blinked twice.

It was… empty? No, there was somepony in uniform sleeping at the desk that once likely belonged to the secretary, and some cots about. Whoever was at the front desk wasn’t having a good go about it, her sleep interrupted by twitches and spasms, nervous murmurs stumbling out of her mouth like a broken staircase. Flame Storm reached over, and lightly tapped the desk with his knuckle.

The mare shot up like a gun’s recoil, rubbing her eyes and looking around in a panic. “Who-what-where-how-... oh.” Her hands landed on the desk, and her brow furrowed. “Off drinking, I suppose. Uhm, who might you be, Mr…?” She stuck her hand out. Flame grasped it.

“Flame Storm. I’m the prisoner from Canterlot.”

The Secretary froze, coughed, and nodded. “A-Ah, yes, C-c-corporal Cobalt was waiting for you. He is, um…” She quickly stood up and opened the doors that likely led to the stairs that led to the main office upstairs. “He is… not here.”

Flame Storm looked down to the name tag that had fallen off due to her sudden awakening. ‘Marian Mare, Secretary.’

The Secretary part was new, though, shakely written over something starting with an M. ‘She’s likely the Mayor, before this Corporal Cobalt showed up, going off of what Applejack told me. Hm, doesn’t seem too happy with her demotion.’

“Um, Corporal Cobalt told me to give you this mission statement as soon as you got here, I put it… Ah, here.” Mayor Mare opened one of the drawers and pulled out a single sheet of paper, which she handed over. Flame looked it over.

‘FLAME STORM. PROCEDE INTO THE EVERFREE FOREST AND COLLECT One (1) ARIANDEL FLOWER.’

Flame Storm rose a brow. “Ariandel Flowers? Those only bloom in winter, and only in the far north. Mother used to collect them to make Kala Tea…” He murmured. “Ofstopi víg Logi…”

“Uh, what?” Marian muttered, passing back over from a momentary lapse into exhaustion induced slumber.

“Nothing, Ma’am.” Flame Storm placed the note back down onto her desk. “I must ask, however, would you happen to know any flower shops in town?”

“Oh, yeah, there’s, um, Roseluck’s shop on the other side of town, the stall covered in flowers. She should be closing up by now.”

Flame Storm hummed under his breath. “Thanks. You can go back to sleep now, Mayor.” Without further word, he left, a target in mind.

Marian Mare blinked, looked around, and returned to her desk, finally able to get back to sleep.

Thankfully, Miss Roseluck sold packets of a certain breed of flower seeds, though, only needing one seed was free. Thankfully, Flame Storm only needed one. Helped that it was stated on the sign, as Roseluck had looked up at his face, and then passed out, thankfully onto a carpeted floor.

The seed he had taken was of the Lalen family, a breed of flowers that only grew during the summer months, and this particular one, a Long-Day Lilly, vaguely resembled an Ariandel. The only difference was the faint glow that came from Ariandel petals, ones that cause an odd feeling of cold exhaustion within those who view it.

The only thing Flame Storm had to do now was to plant the seed and cultivate it.

In one night.

Frankly, less than one night. About 3 hours, actually.

He could totally do that, sure. He just needed to… Wait a minute, Applejack said Ponyville had an interesting effect on plant life. And the Everfree was chock-full of Dark Magic, and despite its name, Darker Magics were the best for cultivating Life of all sorts, largely by perversing the natural life forces in the world to over indulge in Expanding.

So, if he measured out the range between the Everfree’s corrupting influence, and Ponyville’s stable aura, and found the central line between Stable and Unstable, he should be able to make the seed grow and bloom in time. Theoretically.

Of course, Flame Storm considered the issues this could cause as he sprinted across town towards his new home. He could incite a mutation that makes the flower lash out and eat his face, or turn sentient and begin speaking in a language long dead, making his brain melt out of his ears, or a billion other things that can go wrong when fucking around with Dark Magic. However, Flame Storm was not one to care. If it went bad, he’d kill it, and then probably hide in the Everfree until the Corporal got bored of him and went back to drinking himself under the table.

Shouldn’t be too hard, and hey, another 17 years in another haunted forest doesn’t sound too bad either. Better than dealing with bureaucratic bullshit.

In a matter of minutes, he had found a point where the acrid stench of the Everfree was weakest, but the overwhelming grass-like scent of pure Earth Magic of Ponyville was weakest as well, easily a good 10 minutes from his new cabin. Flame Storm’s knee hit the dirt, and he produced the seed from his pocket. Using as much care as his hands could muster, he slowly carved out a hole, dropped the seed in, and covered it back up. With that done, all that was left was to wait. And to pass the time, Flame Storm let himself slump back onto his back, staring up at the dark night’s sky, right up at the Full Moon.

Two hours later, the stalk finally broke out of the dirt, pulling Flame Storm’s attention from pulling random words out of the Stars. “Huh, it actually worked.” He murmured. “I fully expected to be eaten alive tonight, this is a pleasant surprise.”

He stood up and reached down. The stem reacted to his presence, as Long-Days were sensitive to latent magic, and bloomed in full, the white petals gleaming off of the moonlight. Flame Storm smiled.

“Unless this Corporal Cobalt is a herbalist, he won’t notice the difference, now will he? Come here, little one. It’s time to tell a lie.”

Flame Storm frowned. The town hall was still empty, the former Mayor still passed out at her desk, now snoring like a Ursa Major trying to find a mate. This would be… annoying, even more so than it already was.

Hm, Marian Mare mumbled something about a bar, but where would it be? Applejack never mentioned a bar, and he hadn't seen one during their tour. He could wake Marian up, but that mare looked drop-dead exhausted, so he felt bad considering it. So, he went to Plan B:

Smell.

It was something he had learned to enhance during his years living in the woods alone, having to learn how to tell the difference between what was safe to eat or not, to determine if the sour smell in the air was Hydra’s Blood or a wet bear, and most importantly, Tracking.

Looking over to make sure Marian was still out cold, Flame Storm carefully made his way past her and into the staircase up to the main office, the doors to it being unlocked. Carefully opening it, he was surprised to see maps, tables filled with notes and booklets, and walls covered in weaponry. However…

Flame Storm took a step forward and let his hand run across the blade of an axe, and his brow furrowed. He wasn’t much of a master smith, but he had enough experience to tell cheap metal from good metal, and this axe was… rubbish. The edge was almost an inch thick, and there was already some cracking along the core. Either it was improperly treated, or some idiot has been trying to fight a Stone Golem with it.

Either way, it didn’t fill him with much confidence. He made an internal note to never take a weapon from this little armory. Aside from all that, he found the Corporal’s desk, noted by the metal slat with Cobalt Carousel's name engraved into it. Next to it was also a vase, with a wilted lily inside.

“Hmph, how fortunate.” Flame Storm muttered. He grabbed the dead flowers and tossed them into the trash bin next to the desk, and roused out a pad of paper and a pen.

“One (1) Ariandel Flower. I’m going to sleep. ~ Flame Storm.”

He penned it down to the table with a knife from the floor and turned tail to leave, exiting the building without a single noise, and returned to the forest.

The silence of the town was slowly breaking as the sun’s rays began to pierce the horizon. Flame Storm stared off at it with a solemn expression on his face, the beams striking his face. He softly remembered distant memories of a home that was long gone, the splash of saltwater on his face, and the faint smell of a burn pit.

Flame Storm shook his head. ‘Keep remembering things and you’ll lose it again, Flame. Keep yourself focused, just get to the cabin and bed.’

Heh, “bed”. A firm plank of wood, cold burrows, and a hollow room, with only a fireplace to keep him warm. With his luck, it’ll catch the floor on fire and take him down to Hell… Oh well, it’s a risk he’ll take.

Flame Storm finally arrived and pulled the door open, the forest’s darkness crawling over his skin as he entered the room. With a deep sigh, he looked down at himself. The slow crawling desolate feeling that had been haunting him since he got here paused when he saw the clothes that were generously handed to him. Slowly, that unbridled feeling of drowning faded.

Instead, a hollow numbness came forth in its stead. Better nothing than suffering, honestly.

He moved to the mirror, testing the faucet to see if it could actually work, and as expected, the dripping was all he could get. Which would be annoying in the future, but in the future, he can get it fixed, however the hell this pipe got water in the first place. With a disappointed sigh, he looked into the mirror and stopped.

Flame Storm looked… better. Even with his mane and fur all tattered, and his tail cut so short it might as well have been missing, the shirt and vest made him feel.

Clean. Something he hadn’t felt in a long, long, Long time. His hand slowly raised up to his face, and carefully pulled his mane back. The mirror flickered as his mane moved past his eyes, and Flame Storm held back a wince.

Half of his face was a mangled mass of burned flesh, his left eye clouded and molten after years upon years of healing over as a scar. Even in its sad sorry state, the teal iris still managed to peek through, even if it looked disgusting. But the scar didn’t stop at his eye. It kept going back, to below his ear, pain piercing his mind with every twitch. With a solemn stare, he let his mane fall back, ideas of pining it back with a band which he had found in the pocket of his vest vanishing.

Flame Storm let his hands fall, instead turning to the fireplace. With a flick, Magic came through his veins, the feathers of his wing twitching to life. From his hand came a soft red light, and then a flame, his name sake, fluttering down from the tips of his fingers. Despite its miniscule size, the dried logs immediately went up, bathing the cabin in warmth and light. Flame Storm sighed as it bathed him, his muscles loosening. Being so close to his element, his nature, his Talent, it rejuvenated him. Not enough to replace sleep, however.

Flame Storm let the fire bathe his wing as he turned to the bed, carefully sitting down onto the old wood. Shit, that hurt. His back felt like an old spear being used ruthlessly to parry a sword, never works…

Nonetheless, he laid down, ready to end his first night in Ponyville. Though, he wasn’t fully in mind for the next day. Or the day after.

‘This was going to be an experience’ His mind murmured, as he fell into the silent void of Dreams. The silent, abandoned, but welcoming realm of Dreams.

A Hunter's Duty Burns.

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1423 Post Celestial Dominion, Ponyville, Equestria.

Flame Storm growled as he swung his fist again right into the sap-slobbering maw of a Timberwolf. Its face didn’t fare quite well, exploding out into a wave of splinters, sending the many twigs and sticks that consisted of its body flying. He waved his hand to flick out the splinters, glaring sharply at the remaining Timber.

“I know plucking flowers for medicinal purposes takes time, Doctor Evergreen…” Flame Storm grumbled to the dark blue furred Unicorn behind him. “But would you be so kind as to hurry up?!”

The Doctor fumbled his scissors for a moment. “Yes, yes, I’m trying! Thimblethump is a very difficult flower to harvest, it’s far too important to waste even one! Just keep fighting, I- I’ll pay you 100 Bits extra!”

Flame Storm’s fists faltered, his eye wondering at the prospect, before smiling softly and raising his fists properly once more. “Fair enough, Doctor. Mind the splinters.”

“Mind the wha- Good Celestia!”

Flame Storm had launched himself forward, rearing a leg back to deliver a devastating kick to one, which managed to turn into a bowling event as its wooden viscera collided with its siblings, sending wood flying. With another twist, he used the momentum to slam his arm into a leaping Timberwolf, shattering its skull. With one last twist, Flame Storm practically flung himself onto another, grabbing ahold of its neck and, once his hooves hit solid ground, throwing the entire beast forward, snapping its spine across one of the thick dark oaks of the Everfree.

Doctor Evergreen stared in silent shock. “That- Um, Wha-” Flame Storm just tossed a stick at the blinking stallion.

“Just get the damn flowers so we can leave. These splinters are killing me.” The pale Stallion growled, plucking wood chiplets from his knuckles while the doctor got back to work. Internally, Flame Storm sighed.

In the year he had been in Ponyville, he had found the occasionally decent pay escorting ponies through the Everfree, guarding important events, or hauling supplies to and fro. All the while, he’d been paid in dirt by the MHO, Cobalt not too pleased with him actually succeeding in his mission, even if it was a white lie. So, Flame Storm had to turn to off the books jobs to be able to wake up warm and eat well. Though, he could do with less apples in his diet.

“Alright, I-I got the flowers! Let us leave, y-yes?” The doctor stuttered, quickly stuffing the bright red flowers into his bag.

“Finally. Haul ass, it’s nearly noon and Cobalt likely wants me back to do some idiotic chore to get me killed. Hmph, good amount of luck he’s had so far, hm?”

“Uh, no?”

Flame Storm shook his head. Cobalt wouldn’t wait, he knew, and he could feel in the strings of life that something big was coming.

It gave him a headache, but he would manage. He always had. Enough internal murmuring, Ponyville won’t wait.

1423 Post Lunar Fall, Canterlot, Equestria.

The great halls of Canterlot Castle were breath taking, no matter how many times Twilight Sparkle walked them. The dark purple dress she wore stood out like a bald spot on a pony’s face, but it was special to the lavender unicorn.

It was one of the many gifts Celestia had given her over the years, specifically her last birthday’s final gift, something she cared for almost obsessively. But today was a special day, an Important day! Under her arms was an old tome, practically an heirloom. It was an old fairy tales book, but something Celestia had taught her was that all tales had truth behind them.

One tale was important to her. The Mare In The Moon.

It told the story of Celestia’ sister, who’s name had been forgotten, or redacted, who drowned in jealousy and tried attacking Celestia. Thankfully, the Princess had an ancient weapon that struck the dark sister down, sealing her away for one thousand years, the fabled Elements Of Harmony. Five parts, and a Sixth that would appear when they were finally reunited.

If Twilight’s math was correct, one thousand years exact was a week away, and she had been in a panic about it for days on end. Her little brother, Spike, had considered it nothing but an old mare’s tale, but something as major as an ancient She-Demon returning from the abyss was too important to just relegate to just some fillie’s tale!

She had finally gotten a day out of her busy schedule of training herself in multitudes of spells, mostly offensive ones now that she understood what was soon arriving, to meet with her mentor. Not that any of them would work, this Nightmare Moon the books spoke of was likely as powerful as Celestia, so they needed the Elements Of Harmony Celestia had used to seal her away all those years ago. The issue…

Twilight stepped into the throne room, a bright, glamorous area meant to hold Hundreds of ponies at once, Gold lined the walls, connecting the grand windows that touched the roof, letting beams of the Sun’s light into the room. And at the end of it all, was Celestia.

Twilight flinched at the sight of her mentor. The Alicorn’s horn was alight with golden light, but that was quickly dimming, her towering spear of a horn slowly turning black with overuse. Her fur was slowly losing its luster with her dying magic, eyes overcast as her mind witnessed the hallowed roads of Equestria, protecting the streets however she could. That lavender color her eyes once held had faded into a dark purple, deepened by the sunken sockets she called eyes.

The mare Twilight had accidentally called Mother more than once looked more like a walking corpse than a regal princess, guardian of Equiis, and mover of the Sun itself. It took one of Celestia’s advisors carefully patting her arm to draw her attention, distant eyes finally falling upon Twilight. Her dead gaze was broken by a wobbly smile, her eyes lighting up, as if her heart gave one last kick.

“Twilight!” Her aged voice cut through the silence of the hall with a warmth that fit the bearer of the Sun, a voice that blanketed those who heard it like a loving embrace. Tired, burnt out, and aged as she was, Celestia was still a breath’s distance of a Goddess, and as she stood to her full height of 10’5, all felt just a little better in Twilight’s mind. The Sun Mover carefully stepped down the throne to the floor, her steps unbalanced and wobbly, but she still made her way to Twilight.

Celestia lowered herself to a knee and pulled her student into a tight hug, which the purple unicorn joined in force. “It feels like too long since we last had a moment to talk, my dearest student.” Celestia sighed as she relinquished the hug, letting Twilight find her footing again.

“It’s only been a week, Princess.” Twilight hummed, before shaking her head. “But I’m not here for a visit. I’ve been doing some reading, and I think I’ve found something concerning-”

“The Tale Of Nightmare Moon, yes?” Celestia interrupted her. “I know, the One Thousandth year is approaching quite quickly, but there’s nothing to be worried about, my dear student.” Twilight opened her mouth to object, but was once again silenced by Celestia’s smile. “I know I taught you that all fairy tales have their place somewhere in truth, but Nightmare Moon is one of the few exceptions. However, it does bring me to a concern I wanted to bring to your attention some time ago, but never came around to it…” The Alicorn’s eyes looked away with shame. “Something that has to do with your habit of self-isolation.”

“Wh-what habit?” Twilight stuttered. “And we can’t just glance over Nightmare Moon, you’ve put too much work into writing It away to just be-”

“Twilight, please…” Celestia sighed. “My issue is that you’ve been interacting with ponies less and less over the years, and I’m concerned it might prove to be detrimental to your future studies.”

Twilight couldn’t pause her glare. “Detrimental? Ponies are the detrimental part, they keep distracting me from my studies!”

Celestia stopped herself from frowning. “Twilight, please, that’s not true at all. Listen, if you truly want to help me protect Equestria, one of the most important lessons you can learn is dealing with other ponies. I’m sending you to a nearby town to help organize the Summer Sun Festival, both to teach you how to deal with ponies you don’t like, and organizing an event like this.”

In spite of Twilight’s blood-curling stare, Celestia smiled. “You’ve been studying how to do that for years, I’m sure you’ll do fine. Plus, the country air is quite good for one’s complexion.” A bold lie, Twilight could tell she was trying to make it sound better than it actually was. But, in the end, it was Celestia’s call, something she couldn’t deny.

By the end of the afternoon, Twilight was packing up, a carriage of Pegasi prepared to take her down the mountain in the coming morning.

Flame Storm looked over the supplies he had before him.

Wood Axe, nothing special. Had a hell of a time getting it from a traveling merchant, and like hell he’d use it as a weapon. The rotting wood and rusted metal made him sure that a single swing against even the most gaunt of Timberwolf would result in the axe exploding.

Three gallons of… some kind of liquor in a sealed canister. Water was hard to come across down in the Everfree, so he had to resort to the classic Get-Drunk-Rather-Than-Die-Of-Thirst method his ancestors pioneered.

A bow and three arrows, hand made, and probably about to shatter at any moment. Flame Storm was better at making Instruments than weapons from wood, really…

And finally, his journal, a leather thing with a red ribbon serving as a lock. It was full of all the jobs he had taken since getting to Ponyville, both MHO approved and off the books.

All of it amounted to one thing:

Flame Storm needed a better job.

The pegasus leaned back and sighed, rubbing his eye. He already had no food left, and as it turns out, ponies don’t go out into the Everfree every day, so of course he’d end up with no Bits, no food, a massive headache because he was hungry, and the deep feeling that every inch of his body was trying to actively kill him.

So, he needed to get a better job. How? Flame Storm knew nopony in Ponyville would hire him, they were still unnerved by him, and he couldn’t just go Out and ask, MHO was watching him like a piece of meat. He had to be smart, sneaky, he had to be-

A loud bang hit his door, knocking him out of his thoughts. He quickly walked over and opened his door slowly, his other fist clenched in case he had to use his door as an emergency shield.

As it opened, Flame Storm’s eye fell upon a Pegasus Mare of grey fur and blond mane, dressed in shorts and a button-up. Beside her was a pile of letters and packages, fallen out of a bag that was now in the mud. She rubbed her head and looked up at Flame Storm, revealing golden eyes, one that looked quite misaligned. The mare shook her head and quickly grabbed the papers and bag, rising up on wobbly hooves.

“Howdy!” She greeted Flame Storm, who was now blankly staring at her. “Mail for ya’ mister!” She quickly waved the dirt off of the pile of papers and handed them over, affixing the bag to her shoulder again, and quickly taking off from the ground. Though, her flight pattern was a little uneven…

Flame Storm looked down to the papers in his hands and blinked, before returning to his cabin’s dark interior. A flick of his finger ignited the wood once more, and he took a seat on the beaten-in couch.

“Advertisements, local news, when the hell did I sign up for any of this…” Flame Storm mumbled. “Wait, isn’t that the Apple Family mark?”

Lo and Behold, in his hand was a dark brown envelope stamped with a single apple. He carefully broke it open, and pulled out a letter. Flame Storm’s brow raised. Been a long while since he last talked to Applejack, quite a few months now, actually.

“To Flame Storm,

Howdy Partner! Been a long while since we last talked, but I felt like you’re one of the few folk in Ponyville I could grab for this.

My big brother, Big Mac, recently broke his leg hauling apples and I’m up the creek on the harvest. Applebloom’s too young and small to help with the pluckin’, Granny’s too old, and ol’ Granpear is too much of a sourpuss to help anypony nowadays.

I’m asking, from the bottom of my heart, for your help. I’m willin’ to pay as well, 40 Bits a day.

With Love, Applejack & The Apple Family.”

Flame Storm blinked.

Oh hey, new job. That was fast.

Flame Storm had approached the Apple Farm with relative confidence. In the back of his mind, he felt the usual nagging of a MHO operative tailing him, distantly, likely a Unicorn named Red Hour. The unfortunate pain in Flame Storm’s neck was always saddled up with Following Duty, which he hated.

Mostly because he knew Flame Storm knew where he was at all times, due to the time he stared at Red Hour for a solid 20 minutes, dead in the eyes, despite the Unicorn being under an Invisibility spell. It was awkward, but once Red Hour looked away in fear, it filled Flame with a sense of ego.

The Apple Family Farm was a massive thing, trees as far as the eye could see, and the scent of apple juice filtered the air like poison. The Apple Family Home was massive as well, not just containing a home, but also a forge, a bottling area for the jam and drinks, a distillery… An absolute Monolith of development.

Flame Storm’s eye was caught by the quickly approaching forms of Applejack and a filly, resembling Applejack, but with an apple red mane. Applejack was trying to keep in-step with her, but even from here Flame Storm could see the exhaustion in her eyes and gait.

“Applebloom, dangit, wait for me!” Applejack huffed, stumbling to a slow as her breath was lost. She slowly looked up at the pale horse. “Huff… H-howdy, Flame. Pleasure to see ya’ after so long.” She panted.

Flame Storm nodded. “The pleasure is mine, Applejack.” His focus turned to the filly beside Applejack, looking on at Flame Storm in awe. “I’m assuming this is your sister?”

“That ah’ am, mester!” Apple Bloom spoke up at last, her face as bright as the morning sun. Her accent, however, was far heavier than even Applejack’s, likely because she was so young, not spending as much time amongst other folk yet.

Flame Storm let a smile crest his face, kneeling down and giving the filly a pat on the head. “Nice to meet you, young one.”

Apple Bloom smiled, but Applejack grabbed her attention. “Ah’ told ja’ Apple Bloom, stay by my while we’re on these roads. You know that nopony smart risks a Manticore attack.”

Flame Storm’s brow raised. “Manticore sighting? Near here? That’s rare, they normally don’t go anywhere near the town.”

“Yeah, well, tell that to the big ugly Big Mac saw. We called for Fluttershy, but she’s hiding away in her cabin, Again.” Applejack huffed, blowing a lock of hair out of the way. “Dagum Wuss.”

“Hey, don’ be mean to miss Fluttershy!” Apple Bloom pouted. “Y’know she’s scared ah’ her own shadow.”

“Fluttershy?” Flame Storm hadn’t heard that name before in all his time in Ponyville.

“Ah, she’s the town’s Animal Specialist.” Applejack explained. “But she’s a complete and total coward, she never leaves her hut for anything, even a damn tornado! Last time I saw her, it was because Winona went near her house. Second I got close, she squealed and vanished like a shadow, like a damn Pig.”

Apple Bloom glared at her sister, while Flame Storm frowned. ‘A bit rude of her.’ “Would this Fluttershy girl be any help with the Manticore?”

“Yeah, she’d be some big help. She knows dadgum everrythang about animals, and could probably tell it to bugger off, but she’s, well, shy.” Apple Bloom piped up, still glaring at her sister. “An thas’ no reason ta be a bully!”

Applejack rolled her eyes while Flame Storm stopped a chuckle. “She makes a point, friend. Now then, you said you needed some help?

Applejack finally smiled again and nodded. “Eyup. We’re just about to start buckin’ some apples down, Granny made a couple new baskets and it’ll make things a bit easier. Though, uh, I do mean a ‘bit’. You’ll be helping Apple Bloom pick up the apples I knock off, dunno how good you’d be at buckin’ em’.”

She noted Flame Storm’s brow raising slowly at the wording and blushed. “Heh, yeah, forgot that Buckin’ is a euphemism for…” She side eyed her sister. “... Sumtin’ else.”

Flame Storm laughed. “I’m guessing you’re meaning it in kicking the living lights out of a tree to drop the apples?”

Applejack adjusted her hat. “Yeah, with a lil’ help from some Earth Pony magic, I usually get em’ all in one fell swoop, and all in the baskets. But recently, them trees have been real rude, won’t listen to a dadgum thing I do. Probably because I’ve been overworkin’ my magic…” The mare huffed. “But enough outta me, we got work to do.”

The trio walked up the path to the Apple Family Farm, where the oldest mare Flame Storm had ever met, Granny Smith, sat on her rocking chair asleep, next to a pile of wicker baskets and a frustrated Big Mac. The red furred stallion was nursing a cup of ice tea, trying to ignore how his leg was perched up on a pile of chairs and pillows, confined within a cast.

“Good morning, Big Mac, Granny.” Flame Storm greeted the two with a polite wave. Big Mac gave a curt nod, while Granny simply snored, out like a light.

“Hehe, Granny was workin’ on them baskets all night.” Apple Bloom giggled. “She’ll probably be out until the cows come home.”

“Hopefully we won’t be talkin’ the whole darn time with her asleep.” Applejack muttered. “Always ends up getting us yammering on until sundown.”

“Well, at that age, you do end up talking a lot.” Flame Storm grabbed one of the stacks of baskets. “Can’t do a whole lot else.”

“Hah, ya’ clearly ain’ seen Granny when she gets all upset at some stranger ignorin’ house rules!” Apple Bloom giggled. “I ain’ never seen a boot go flying so fast!”

Flame Storm shared a small laugh at the thought. “Well, nothing’s scarier than a grandmother scorned, I guess.”

“Alright, enough jibberjabber!” Applejack called out, a pair of protective metal boots covering her hooves. “We got some trees to shake!”

Turns out, Apple Bucking was surprisingly fun, something Flame Storm can safely say he hadn’t had in many, many years. Not much, as it was just busy work, but helping the Apples figure out where to place specific baskets made it semi-entertaining. Like that old ball on a string he had made as a foal, sitting beside the fire, waiting out the rain…

No, enough looking backwards again. It almost made him miss the sudden rain of apples that nearly bashed him in the head, thankfully managing to capture them with a basket. “Gotta keep yer’ head up better, Flame!” Applejack chuckled, rolling her leg around on the edge of her hoof, the last kick having been far too lopsided.

“Apologies. Lost myself in thought for a moment there…” The pegasus muttered, reaching down and picking up the now full basket of apples. “That makes the count… how much, again?”

“Fifty Seven.” Apple Bloom piped up, hauling one of the baskets onto her shoulder with as much strength she could muster. The little one stumbled back a few times, before being rebalanced by her sister. “Outta like, a few hundred trees?”

“A few thousand, actually.” Applejack huffed. “We’ve been at it for only an hour now, but it’s a lot more headway than just on mah’ own. C’mon, let’s take this haul on back to the barn, take a short lil’ breather, then get back to it.”

As they began to lift the baskets, Applejack suddenly came to a screeching halt, her eyes drawn to the nearby forest. “Big Sis? What’s up, why’dja stop?” Apple Bloom tried asking her sister, but as soon as the final syllable left her mouth, Applejack’s hand covered her mouth. She dropped the basket of apples and slowly backed up.

“Manticore.” She whispered, muscles gearing to run.

Flame Storm looked into the darkness and squinted against the morning sun, but he could see it. A lion like beast with a billowing red plume, draconic wings, and the telltale stinger serving as a tail. Even from here he could see the faint drips of sickeningly green venom, the effects of which could instantly paralyze anypony it got into the blood of.

In an instant, the Pegasus felt deep set instincts kick in, his muscles tensing as he slowed every movement to a crawl. Manticore didn’t like easy prey, so the slower a Hunter moved, the less likely the Manticore would attack, until it was too late.

Unfortunately, Flame Storm was not skilled in stealth, but somepony else fell over before he did, that being Apple Bloom. The youngling fell over with a startle, the Manticore’s eyes now firmly on them. It began pacing forward, before breaking out into a run. Its eyes were on them now, and moving slowly wouldn’t help. So, Flame Storm reacted.

He grabbed Apple Bloom by the back of her shirt and slugged her over his shoulder, and picked Applejack up in an awkward shoulder holster grab, and ran like Hell.

Flame Storm wasn’t the fastest out there, but even on hoof, he was still a giant Pegasus with some Earth Pony blood rushing through his veins, and that proved helpful as his hooves hit the dirt and fled. The Manticore was on his tail in a moment, of course, being a feline they were far faster in Bursts than straight Sprints, but Flame Storm had an answer for that.

The answer being the intense freezing sensation that ran through his spine, and down to his leg. He braced his full weight on it, before launching into the air, the natural muscles that formed so Pegasi could launch off the ground to fly, mixing well with his own earned strength to send him above the treetops, just barely dodging the Manticore’s claws. If he were a second slower, they would have torn his leg into fine ribbons.

At times like this, Flame Storm cursed his lack of a second wing as he began falling back to the earth, staring firmly at the ground to make sure he landed correctly, and not directly into the maw of the Manticore. However, if he was paying attention to the forest, he would have noticed something strange. It seemed to go on for miles, however the Apple Family Farm was far from being even close to Two miles in size.

The Pegasus came crashing down like a cannonball, barely stumbling on his hooves as he began sprinting again, biting his lip.

“Shit, it’s still tailing us!” Applejack shouted, having a good view of the chasing Manticore. Flame Storm cursed and picked up the pace, forcing as much strength into his legs as he could for even the smallest amount of speed. It wasn’t much worth, as in a few seconds he once again felt that freezing deep within his very being, non-existent frost turning his veins into glass.

At least, it felt like it.

Instead of jumping, however, Flame Storm took the offensive, quickly performing a small hop, letting Applejack and Apple Bloom be flung away by momentum. As he turned in the air, the Manticore’s claws tore through the space below him, and with only a few seconds to react, the beast found Flame Storm’s hooves firmly placed into its nose, snapping the offending appendage and sending it stumbling backwards.

With a royally pissed growl, it fled into the forest, leaving the Apples and Flame alone.

Flame Storm slowly pulled himself from the ground with a hiss, his wing now missing a few feathers that were long past due for a preening, and a collection of new scratches along his spine and already-fucked shoulder. Applejack and Apple Bloom were, thankfully, had a slightly better landing, only slightly scuffed from their impromptu landing.

“Sonofabitch this hurts…” Flame Storm hissed, rolling over and standing up. He gave their surroundings a quick look, and frowned when nothing came back familiar. “Something’s wrong…”

“You could say dat’ again.” Apple Bloom whimpered, dusting herself off. “Ah thought we didn’t plant trees this close, Big Sis?”

“We don’t…” Applejack muttered, placing a careful hand on Apple Bloom’s shoulder, looking out for any other injuries.

“Den’, where the heck are we?”

“Nowhere and Everywhere.” Flame Storm growled, his mind clicking into place.

“Huh?” The Apple sisters jinxed.

“Endless trees, some kind of predator, an odd feeling in the air, we’re not in the Apple Field anymore. Or even the Everfree.” His eye sharpened and the faint glow that came from his cyan iris became brighter. “We’re in an illusion, likely one by a Lostseon.”

“Now what in the Hell is a Lostseon?” Applejack was starting to get more angry than annoyed now, the adrenaline from running for their lives slowly fading.

“Forest Spirits. They haunt lost travelers and trap them within an endless expanse, until they tire out and die. Then, they feast on your Soul, cursing you from ever escaping to the Unsung Plains and becoming another Lostseon.”

Applejack gulped, and Apple Bloom slowly became more and more panicked as Flame Storm went on. His hand went for the knife that once occupied his hip, but was soberingly reminded that it, too, had been taken when he was arrested.

“There is a chance to escape, however. We have to find the core of the Lostseon, and Kill It. Issue…”

“We don’t know where that is.” Applejack finished for him. “Shit.”

“Well, I might have an idea.” Flame Storm gave the forest one more look. “The colder an area, the closer to a specter you are. Lostseon illusions aren’t infinite, they only go out about 50 feet in all directions. Once you hit an edge, you teleport to the other side. I’d say we’ve gone around the space about… we were running for about 4 minutes straight, and at top speed I can go 55 miles per hour…” The Pegasus lost himself into a muttering spree. The Apple Sisters only gave each other a look as he finished.

“I’d say we’ve gone around about 16 times now. My math might be a bit off, but if we start walking in a skewed direction, we’ll eventually hit the specter by sheer chance.”

“And how long do you think that’d take?” Applejack posed the most important question, as the longer they spent here, the more time they’d run out of energy for, and the more time that Manticore could find them again.

“About an hour.” Flame Storm frowned. Applejack also frowned and leaned close.

“We might not be Alive in an hour.” She hissed, only to be answered by Flame Storm’s brow sharpening.

“It’s either die tired, or die fighting.”

Applejack sighed and picked Apple Bloom up, hoisting her sister over her shoulder. “Fine. Let’s start moving, then.”

They had been walking for far too long. Flame Storm’s nerves ran sharp, his fur on end, almost as if he was standing in the middle of a thunderstorm. Every few moments, he could feel his body freeze, instinct roaring up as the grass and leaves were tousled by a fleeting presence.

At last, Applejack stumbled over, breathing with some difficulty.While the two were accustomed to walking and working for hours upon hours on end, Applejack had already spent most of the day working herself to the bone, and the scent of juniper berries that flowed from Lostseon cages was eating away at the mare.

“Carefull.” Flame Storm grunted, offering his hand to the orange mare. She panted, gulped back some spit, and grabbed ahold.

“Sorry… I’m just runnin’ outta gas real quick…” Apple Bloom rubbed her sister’s shoulders, trying to manage the strain in them however she could. “How long… Woof, how long have we been walkin’ now?”

Flame Storm sniffed the air, glaring sharpy at the sun, which was still at High Noon. “About three hours.”

“What?!”

“You can tell from the smell in the air. The paper said there would be a windfront today, from the West. Directly west of us is Berry Punch’s bar.” The hunter growled, his ears twitching to and fro. “Never thought I’d be glad to smell booze on the wind-”

A rustle to the East, a spike of ice between his shoulder blades, and suddenly, Flame Storm was being pushed over. Applejack had seen it before he had the chance to, and flung herself directly in the way of the incoming stinger. It stabbed directly into her shoulder, ripping her breath away and injecting its venom. It pulled away, leaving a spurt of blood, and a remnant of green venom.

By the time Flame Storm’s hearing overpowered his adrenaline, Apple Bloom was screaming in terror, and Applejack had begun to spasm, her eyes trying to roll up into her head, but she was doing a good job resisting the urge to pass out. However it didn’t stop her body from rebelling, a variable flood of foam pouring from her mouth as the after effects kicked in. She fell over, just as Flame Storm caught her.

“FUCK! Apple Bloom, keep her on her stomach, hold her arms tight, try and keep her stable from the seizures!” He shouted out, eye quickly scanning the forest for their attacker. He didn’t have to look far as the Manticore’s stinger launched out again, trying to stab him from above.

Flame Storm slapped the appendage away from his face and grabbed ahold of it. With a roar of effort, he ripped the beast from its tree, slamming into the ground with a yelp. It ripped its tail away and glared at the Pegasus. “Whatever you do, do Not let go of that wound!” He called back to the filly behind him, turning just in time to see the Manticore lunge forth with its maw wide open.

Hooves clattered against the ground as the hunter pulled left, rearing an arm back to let loose directly against the Manticore’s jaw. The connection was clean, however its effectiveness left much to be desired. The beast landed with only a slight stumble, simply roaring before lashing out with its claws, intent on tearing him wide open. Flame Storm stepped back once, barely passing the razor sharp claws, and went on the offensive. Now that his placement was firm, his punches were far heavier than before, now successfully knocking the monster’s jaw around like a boxing bag. With one clean right hook, its head was knocked to the side, where Flame Storm’s hoof met its eye.

The force was more than enough to make the Manticore roll over, quickly sprinting back off behind the trees. Flame Storm panted for a few seconds, before regathering his breath and observing the area once more.

Between the trees, he could make out the Manticore sprinting around, the damned beast trying to confuse him. Unfortunately for it, Flame Storm had spent far too many years training himself to overfocus on all things around him. This training hardly saved his neck from the Manticore lashing out, fangs bared to tear his head clean off.

With a stumble to the right, he managed to move just out of the way, while also putting Flame Storm right in place to lash out and grab the beast’s neck, wrapping his arms around it’s furred neck and clenched, using his entire body to crush the Manticore’s throat. For a few seconds, it worked.

And in those scant few seconds, Flame Storm noticed something. In the Manticore’s mane was a silver-blue orb, shining like a dying star. ‘The Lostseon core, it was inside of the Manticore this entire time!? That’s why we didn’t come across it when wandering, it’s been mobile!’

Before Flame Storm could reach out and crush it, the Manticore lashed out, raking its claws deep into the pale pony’s arm. He screamed, his voice rattling the leaves and trees, forcing him to let go. In that moment, the Manticore lashed its tail around, primed to send the edge through his neck. Flame Storm acted first, managing to dodge the tail by only a hair’s breadth, sending it into the dirt.

Knowing what would quickly come to fruition if he hesitated once more, Flame Storm forced everything in his right arm forth, the scared flesh that denied fur any room to grow becoming impossibly hot. His tanned skin turned almost translucent red, before a pyre of flame ripped itself free of his skin, the smell of burning flesh blinding the Manticore, and allowing the Pegasi to shove his hand into it’s mane.

It caught fire instantly, and that included the Lostseon orb. For a scant moment, it screamed with enough force to send the Stallion stumbling backwards, right next to the still panicked Apple Bloom and bleeding out Applejack. By now the seizing had faded, but her body still shook at moments, the venom making its way deeper and deeper.

The Manticore, meanwhile, wasn’t having a party. It kept roaring, rolling over in an attempt to put out the flame, but the dying Lostseon kept distracting it. Eventually, however, the screaming came to a halt, and the Manticore ran away. Well, at least, it tried to.

Flame Storm had lashed out again, ignored the blood geyser his arm had become, and had gripped the tail with all his might, the stinger underneath his armpit. “LIKE HELL I’M LETTING YOU GET AWAY!” Flame Storm roared, the normally small voice the giant carried now matching his stature, the tone shivering the trees down to their roots, and shattering the illusion.

Apple trees were replaced with the dark wood of the Everfree, but Flame Storm paid it no mind, and instead began tugging harder and harder, while the Manticore began tugging away much the same. One good yank was all it took for the stinger to shatter like sugar glass, flinging Flame Storm backwards, and letting the Manticore escape.

Flame Storm panted, laying there, staring up at the dark night, the adrenaline in his body flushing out of the wound on his arm. The blood poured out more and more, painting the floor and his side in red. But he couldn’t lay there a moment further. With a deep growl, he forced himself to his hooves, turning to the Apple sisters. “Shit…”

Applejack was finally still, but her eyes were gray, a sign that the venom had taken its second stage, full body paralysis. “Damnit, Damnit, Damnit!” He kept cursing, placing his only working hand on her shoulder. Her temperature had already fallen greatly.

“What do we do?!” Apple Bloom babbled, the poor kid too new to this kind of stress. Flame Storm bit his lip, before glaring into his arm.

“Flare.” He growled, before throwing his arm up and letting his Talent take form. Pain speared through his veins as the fire bit into his wounds, but he forced it forward nonetheless. With a pulse, he forced the flames upwards through his fingers, and fired a bolt of flame into the skies. It exploded, lighting them up in a quickly fading red glow.

“If the smell from the bar is on the wind, the Pegasi must still be on duty…” He managed out, before the pain made his knees go out from beneath him. Flame Storm fell beside the two, teeth closed tight. “Just… keep your hands on the wound. The venom will staunch the bleeding, but it’ll do the same for any clotting.”

“Ah-all right.” The little filly did so, her fur now soaked up to the elbows in blood. Flame Storm winced at the sight. A child shouldn’t be doing a medic’s job, and here he was, limp as a noodle, unable to move a muscle. The wound on his arm was much more than just a scratch, as he had first believed. Going off of the feeling, it might have gone down to the bone.

“H-hey…” Apple Bloom spoke up after a tense few moments of silence. “How… howd’ja do all that fire stuff?”

Flame Storm humored the girl, likely trying to distract herself from the fact that her big sister was bleeding out before her. “Heh, nothing too special. Pegasi magic contains…” He coughed. “... Contains elemental magic. I’m attuned to Fire, as my Talent.”

“So, you got yer’ Cutie Mark?”

Flame Storm blinked a few times at the question, before his admittedly shoddy education kicked in. Cutie Marks, that was the cute name teachers and parents gave Destiny Marks to ease kids into the concept of Fate and having a place in the world set out for you. Something Flame Storm…

“... Didn’t get one.”

“What?!” For a moment Apple Bloom nearly let go of her sister’s wound, though she did quickly fall back into holding on as soon as any pressure was released. Flame Storm couldn’t help but softly chuckle at her expression.

“I wasn’t… born here. My family lived far, far to the West, where magic was… different. It was a lot more stubborn, and subtle. Unicorns usually only commanded a single spell, usually just what they were named after. For example, I was born amidst a Fire Devil.”

“Fire Devil?”

“A rare phenomenon, where a wind funnel picks up flammable stuff, or just straight up fire. It’s also called a Fire Tornado, but Fire Devil was what my Mother called them. When I was born, a great flame was consuming our village, and only went out once I had been calmed, and from then on I was attuned to it.” Flame Storm waved his hand.

“Equestrian magic, on the other hand, is loose. It’s so greatly attuned to all living things that it can be accessed by anypony with even a passing understanding of the Mystic arts. Earth Ponies, Pegasi, Unicorns, hell, even snakes and bugs can use it. So, when the stubborn magic of my Homeland collides with the Loose magic of your Homeland, it kinda cancels one-another out.”

“Huh… Weird.”

Flame Storm weakly chuckled. “Yeah, weird…”

Minutes passed, before a noise caught their ears. “Hey, guys! This is where that explosion came from, I’ll check it out!” From above, a light blue Pegasus dressed in standard workout attire fluttered down, spotting the three just as easily as they spotted her rainbow mane and tail. “Oh, crap baskets, Applejack?!”

“Rainbow Dash!” Apple Bloom finally smiled for the first time this entire debacle. “Down here!”

The Pegasus, Rainbow Dash landed, quickly sprinting to their side and taking a knee to look at Applejack’s wound. “What the heck happened?”

“Manticore attack, Mr. Flame Storm fought it off!” Apple Bloom belted out.

“For now.” The mentioned Pegasus muttered. “Listen, Rainbow Dash, right?” The mare nodded. “Take Applejack and this stinger to the hospital, as fast as you can manage. She’s already feeling the secondary effects of Manticore Venom, they’ll need the stinger to make an Anti-Venom fast enough to save her life.”

With some effort, he slung the body part over his own body, right next to Applejack. Rainbow Dash blinked a few times, before shaking her head and nodding. “I gotcha, I gotcha!”

With speed even Flame Storm had to be amazed at, the rainbow mare grabbed both the stinger and her apparent friend in one quick scoop and bolted into the air, almost unhampered by the extra weight. Just as quickly as she had appeared and disappeared, another set of Pegasi landed, these ones a black furred and blue-silver maned stallion and a pale blue furred, cyan maned mare.

“Flitter, you take Apple Bloom back to the Apple Barn, I’ll help the hunter.” The stallion said, already helping Flame Storm to his hooves. He winced once Flame Storm’s wound began pouring blood onto his side.

“Gotcha, Thunderlane!” The mare responded, pulling the filly into her arms and bolting.

“By Celestia, your arm is a mess, man!” Thunderlane said. Flame Storm would have said something, anything really, but his tongue felt like a bucket of lead.

“Blood Loss… Damn It To The Moon…” He muttered, before his muscles lost their strength. His neck flopped over, and his eye glazed over, his brain finally weakening from the lack of consistent oxygenated blood.

Ponyville Hospital was a simple foundation, even for a medical facility in a quaint town such as Ponyville. Not to mention rather small. However, that didn’t mean it was understaffed, or less skilled than its sibling locations across Equestria.

Flame Storm couldn’t complain, neither could Applejack.

The both of them were laid out on beds that were almost too small for them to fit on them, Flame Storm for his height, and Applejack for her musculature. Flame Storm had a large bag of blood hooked up to him, his arm wrapped in a veritable mountain of bandages. Applejack, opposite of him, had a bag filled with a bright blue, almost glowing solution, the Anti-Virus made from the torn off stinger tip. It’d take some time to kick in, leaving Applejack stuck between being aware and out cold.

The Apple Family had made their way over in the short hours since the attack, Granny hauling a package of apples, apple fritters, apple pie, just, several different apple based dishes. Not that anypony was eating them, the family being more worried about the status of Applejack.

And Flame Storm, Granny swearing that the moment he woke up, she’d give him a spine breaking hug and an honorary invitation to the Apple Family. She said he deserved it, considering he threw himself into the line of violence to protect her granddaughters.

“C’mon now, AJ, you eat up now!” Granny shoved a plate of apple fritter to her bed bound granddaughter, who was now frowning at her grandmother. “You’ve lost enough blood as is, you need some extra sugar in your diet!”

“Granny, Nurse Redheart would beat you black and blue if she saw you feedin’ me that! She said to hold back on the sugars and fats while the anti-venom does its job, and I’m a bit inclined to listen to her!”

“Awh, what does she know? Yer’ my grandbaby, I know what’s good for ya’!”

“I have to agree with Applejack, Mrs. Smith.” The prior mentioned nurse appeared with almost no sound, closing the door behind her. The white earth pony was carrying about a new IV Bag for Flame Storm. “The anti-venom has a chance of flat out killing her if she digests anything other than soups.” She pulled apart the privacy curtains that covered Flame Storm’s slumbering body and began replacing the fluids bag. “Surprised he’s been out for this long already, most blood loss patients here wake up after only half the time he’s taken…”

“Any idea why that is, Doc?” Applejack managed to lean up just enough to look at her.

“Nurse, and no. Normally, we induce an artificial wake-up signal in the patient’s brain to kick start their processes after we supply the needed amount of blood. We’ve tried that signal almost six times now, but his neural pathways are still mostly dark.” Redheart explained, taking careful notes of Flame Storm’s vitals read out on the heart monitor.

“Oh, ah’ think ah’ know why!” Apple Bloom piped up. “When he got that mean ol’ Manticore to run off and fired that flare up into tha’ sky, we started talkin’ about whatnot to keep my mind off of AJ’s blood.”

Applejack took the moment to reach over and ruffle Apple Bloom’s mane. “And aren’t I glad he did. Really saved my life, Lil’ Sis.”

Apple Bloom blushed. “One of tha’ things he brought up was how he was Blank. He ain’ got a Cutie Mark, because his Magic is different from Equestria’s. So, if ah’m right, those lil’ shocks you’re givin’ him just fizzle out on his own magic!”

Nurse Redheart stared at the filly for a few seconds before scratching her chin. “That does make sense. Guess that just means we’ll have to wait it out, no matter how long that’ll be.”

“Not… too long.” The deep voice of the formerly comatose Pegasus scared the nine hells out of the Nurse, nearly making her jump out of her pants.

“Flame Storm!” Applejack winced at her own tone, but forced herself to lean up more. “Yer’ awake?!”

“Yeah, yeah, lower your voice…” He groaned, rolling over and pulling the pillow over his ears. “I’ve been nursing a headache for an hour now…”

“You’ve been awake for an hour, and you’ve just been laying there?” Nurse Redheart questioned and rubbed her eyes.

“Aye.”

“I swear, you Monster Hunters…” Redheart lamented, before the door behind her opened.

“I know, I know, we can be a headache, Nurse.” A new voice, a sleazy yet firm voice, entered the room, drawing everyone’s attention, and not for any good reason. Every soul in that room knew that voice, and it filled them with different shades of Fear, Anger, and blood boiling Hatred.

The newcomer was Corporal Cobalt himself, a Unicorn bearing a, as his name supplied, cobalt blue coat, and a pale blue mane that had been cut down short in a military standard. He was dressed in a faux black leather overcoat, trying his damndest to appear like a military general, but that, mixed with the two Earth Pony juggernaut guards on his sides, made him look more like a thug.

Nurse Redheart blanched and quickly backed away, a wise move considering Cobalt’s lack of care about anypony in his way. He made his way to the Apple Family and crossed his arms. “So, I hear there’s been a Manticore attack, hm?”

Redheart tightened her grip on the clipboard she was taking notes with. “Y-yes sir. Mrs. Applejack was nearly killed while she was d-dealing with the new harvest.”

“Hmph, I assume this won’t affect our food output deal, Apple?” His iron-colored eyes bore into the Apples, practically spoiling the food Granny Smith had brought along with her.

“Of course it would, you dadgum soldier!” Granny, in opposition, stood up fully and placed her hands to her hips with furled brow. “My grandbabies are in no condition to be tillin’ the fields, AJ can’t even walk!”

Cobalt’s expression soured. “That is disappointing. Very well, I’ll have the Apple Farm Contract voided and sold at the end of the week.”

“YOU WHAT?!” The four Apples screamed at once, which was quite surprising to hear out of Big Mac. “You- you can’t do that!” Applejack growled, but the shivering in her hands and voice betrayed her confidence. “We supply over half of Ponyville’s food supply, if you sell the farm off, the town’ll starve!”

“It won’t. I simply will have another family purchase the land and continue efforts. You have become a hindrance, Applejack, and I will not have Hindrances in My town.”

“No one will buy the land, it’s too tough!” Granny shot back. “That’s the whole reason I made a lil’ homestead here with mah’ family, we Apples knew how to work it!”

Cobalt’s expression didn’t change. “I already have a contract pending with Flim Flam Automations parent company, Skim Technical. I want you off the property in one weeks time, or you’ll be chased out of town by my Hunters.”

“Like Hell they will.” Flame Storm had finally spoken up, pulling himself up out of his cot, much to Redheart’s chagrin. “You are a Corporal, not the Mayor, you have no jurisdiction in this place.”

Cobalt glared at the Hunter and straightened his posture a little bit more. “On the contrary, actually. I had Mayoral Status transferred to me by the Captain of the Royal Guard when I arrived in Ponyville, to extend my reach to protect this town.” His glare became as sharp as a dagger. “I have full legal control of this situation, and I can do this. And I can also punish You for Disobedience. As a MHO Prisoner, your punishment can range from house arrest…”

His hand dashed into his coat and procured a flintlock pistol, cocked and aimed right at Flame Storm’s vocal chords. A straight shot through his neck and spine.

“To Death.”

Applejack nearly lunged out of her cot at the threat, but Flame Storm raised a hand. “Threats, how creative, Corporal.” He mumbled, slowly pushing the flintlock’s barrel away. Cobalt smiled and holstered it.

“It makes disobedient soldiers such as yourself Listen.”

“And makes you a coward. Here’s an idea for you, Corporal, a Deal.” Flame Storm’s eye sharpened. “I hunt this Manticore, and work the fields, until Applejack recovers. Food supply doesn’t go down, no risks are taken selling it, and you get free manual labor for a week.”

That peaked Cobalt’s attention, his brow shooting up. “Hm. Ballsy maneuver, Flame Storm. We do pay the Apples a few hundred bits a week for their crop, and I’m sure they have a back-up supply for situations such as this. It would be nice getting food without paying for it… And that Manticore would be quite annoying if it gets close to town, unless it bleeds out... Hmph.”

The Corporal crossed his arms. “Fine then. I’ll give you exactly one week, Flame Storm. Work the fields and hunt the Manticore, and the Apples get to keep their farm. If not, I get the farm and I get rid of an annoying prisoner. Win/Win.”

His arms uncrossed and clapped together. “Hm, an easy decision, really. I shall be at the Mayoral Hall, but if you bother me without that Manticore’s hide, I’ll put a new breathing hole in your neck.” The Corporal hissed, before turning hoof and leaving without another word. His guards waited a scant few seconds after he had left before joining him, leaving the room in silence.

The silence stayed firm, until Flame Storm winced, and let out a silent hiss, Nurse Redheart finally making notice of the torn stitches along his right arm. Blood slowly oozed from the wound, but with Flame Storm tensing his muscles during the argument, not a soul noticed. She procured a needle and thread from a carry-on bag she and the other nurses had on themselves at all times and quickly ushered the Pegasus to sit, which he complied.

“Flame, what in the Buck are you thinkin’!? You can’t hunt that damn varmint and help us on the farm at the same time, let alone either with them stitches!” Applejack was quite pissed, her anger slowly building up over the course of the argument with Cobalt, but Flame Storm threw himself into their issues, even in the poor state he was in. A direct collision with the Apple Family’s Southern Hospitality.

‘Treat all as friends, but keep your problems as yer’ own.’

“I can, actually. You and Big Mac can’t walk, Apple Bloom is a child, and Mrs. Smith hasn’t got enough kick in her anymore. I failed to do my job-” He let out a sudden growl that caused the ponies in the room’s fur to spike as Nurse Redheart’s finger twitched as it passed through the flesh and muscle. “... I failed my job to protect your family, so let me make that payment.”

“Flame, I doubt you could even buck a tree right! It needs Earth Pony magic, or else you’ll just break it!” Applejack countered once more, but found her next words silenced by Flame Storm’s glare. She only now noticed how bright Flame Storm’s eye was. The cyan iris illuminated the dark shadows underneath his mane, and even the horrifically burned and twisted stone-still eye that hid under the left veil of bangs had a faint shimmer to it, bringing to attention to just how dark his pupil actually was.

“Like Apple Bloom said earlier, my magic isn’t Equestrian. I’m not entirely bound by Racial Heritage. If I can make a flower bloom in only two hours, fire flares, and throw forth waves of flame, then I can sure as Hell learn.”

Applejack’s mouth shot open, but was cut off by, surprisingly, Big Mac. “Sis, ah’ say we take im’ up on the off’r. It’s bett’r than dyin’ out in tha’ cold tryin’ to do it by ah’ selves.”

“Better?! It’s-”

“Applejack, dear, shut yer’ piehole…” Granny Smith sighed. “Ah’ve already decided. Flame Storm, yer’ gonna help tend to the farm, until Applejack can either get her legs working again, or until Big Mac’s leg heals.” Her voice carried a level of finality that suffocated any chance of arguing. “Redheart, dear, how long will that arm be in a sling?”

“If he keeps tearing the stitches, never.” The stock-silent nurse grumbled, rubbing her forehead. “If he doesn’t, it’ll take about two weeks. Normally we have medical spells to speed up the process, but that ‘foreign magic’ is making it take way too much Mana. Though, if you tie your arm up good enough, you should be able to help the Apples, Mr. Storm.”

“I’d help even if my arm was missing, to be frank.” The Pegasus murmured, and was knocked over by the nurse shoving him over.

“Enough outta you. Visiting hours are over, so you two hurry up and fall asleep. I’ll see your folks out, Applejack.”

Apple Bloom, Big Mac, and Granny Smith bid their farewells, and the two ponies were left in silence, now much darker thanks to the lights being switched off.

“I’ain happy about this, Flame.” Applejack grumbled, unable to sleep in a bed as uncomfortably deep as the hospital’s.

“Tough shit, Applejack.” Flame Storm growled. “I’m helping you, now go to sleep.”

“Tch, wish ah’ could. Ain’ used to sleeping on a bed that sinks deeper than a hog in a mud bath.” She tried rolling over, but her entire lower half reminded her of the circumstances. “Sunnuvabitch, can’t even roll over to try and find a comfy spot…”

“Complain in silence, then.” Flame Storm murmured, before closing his own eye. It never really helped, as his left eye was still forced open by the extensive scarring, but after a long and painful day such as today, his mind ignored it and slowly went blank.

“Flame?”

No response, only the faint light of his eye fading.

“Darnit.”

The next day, Wednesday, had Flame Storm donning a sleeveless shirt Big Mac flung at him, and meditating, at almost 4 in the morning. Applejack had watched him tap into his magic, shifting it, moving it, and then practicing it. To her surprise, it actually worked, a roundhouse buck to the trunk of the three sending a weave of flames into the tree, up through its branches, and exploding the stems.

It was a little messy, and most of the apples didn’t land in the baskets below, but it worked. They spent the rest of the morning and afternoon bucking trees and dragging apples into the barn. It was far, far too slow for Applejack’s tastes, but the work got done for the day, and Flame Storm was sent home to rest.

At least, as far as the Apple Family knew.

In truth, Flame Storm was planning, and learning. In truth, he knew next to nothing about Manticores, and the only reason he’s even alive right now was because he scared it off. The farm wasn’t the beast’s normal hunting grounds, meaning it likely came from much farther out, implying another predator had been out-eating the rest of the Everfree.

That wasn’t a good thought. But that was a problem for later.

The issue was that he needed Manticore info, and he didn’t have that. The local library was closed down, the prior librarian having gone missing after complaining about loud humming that made it impossible to sleep, so he couldn’t get his hands on a Bestiary. But something Apple Bloom had mentioned yesterday rang in his head.

Fluttershy, the town’s honorary veterinarian. He didn’t have much hope, honestly, going off of what he heard from Applejack, and the faint muttering of the townsfolk that he asked for directions to her cottage. After almost thirty minutes, he finally found the damn place.

It was… comfy. It reminded Flame Storm distantly of his own home, painted in rain, but still covered in the flowers his Mother adored. It glowed like the night’s sky, as far as he could remember. And the sheer amount of little critters running about, by the Gods, it was like he took a nap in Fae Territory! Not that Flame Storm would complain. His favorite memories involved sleeping in Mother’s garden and waking up when the rabbits kicked his ass over, which was pretty painful, seeing as the rabbits his Mother kept were easily twice the size of Applejack’s dog.

To his surprise, they were quite friendly, a grey bunny bounding up to him and staring up at Flame Storm. The Pegasi let a small smile come to his lips and lowered down on one knee, letting his hand out for the curious creature to smell. “Halló, litla.” He murmured, letting the bunny rub up against his fingers, using them to scratch its ears. “Myndirðu vita hvar verndarinn er?”

The bunny, obviously, didn’t answer. It simply twitched its nose and bounced off, right towards the hut. Flame Storm rose to his hooves and began walking over, slowly appreciating the little hovel. It was genuinely surprising how many animals came up to him, birds landing on his shoulders hanging from his mane, and several smaller mammals running about his hooves with curiosity.

It was a breath of fresh air for the Pegasus, being stared at in Curiosity rather than Fear. Well, mostly.

Little to his knowledge, a pony was watching him in fear. Or, to be more accurate, Concern. The pony he was searching for, Fluttershy, was peeking out of her cottage’s window, hidden by a curtain that was the same shade of pink as her mane.

She had been watching the Pegasus with great anxiety, the thought of actually interacting with another sentient being petrifying her. It was one of those days, y’know, when the anxiety was high, and where every breath felt like it was your last.

It’s not paranoia if they’re actually out to get you, right?

But from his behaviors, this Pegasus, who’s name Fluttershy finally remembered from the loud gossiping she had overheard last time she was in Ponyville buying food, was a lot more gentle than most visitors she got, especially compared to Rainbow Dash, who had just left a matter of hours ago. She couldn’t help but squeak out a small laugh as one of Angel’s brothers bounced off a tree branch and landed on Flame Storm’s head, surprising him into almost jumping. He waved it off with a laugh, and finally approached Fluttershy’s door.

Flame Storm raised a fist to knock on her door, which caused a familiar spike of panic in the pastel yellow Pegasus, but something distracted him. A low sound, one that was almost like… growling?

Oh No. Bruce!

The brown bear Fluttershy had been practically raising for years now was likely waking up by now, and when Brucie was waking up this late in the afternoon, he’d be cranky. And a cranky bear is not a good prospect. Fluttershy quickly made her way to her door, knocking her knee into her table on her way, and on her way down she heard Bruce roaring.

When she finally got up and too the door, she flung it open, fully expecting to see the poor Hunter being torn in half by a pissed off bear, but froze at the real sight. Bruce, at his full height, leaned forward ever so slightly, and Flame Storm… scratching his chin. Like an excited dog, his paw was patting against the ground.

“Aww, aren’tcha a big ol’ thing?” Flame Storm cooed, a bright smile on his face. He brought his second hand up and used it to jiggle the winter fat built up on Bruce’s cheeks, something Bruce very much so enjoyed. The pale Pegasus let out a bark of laughter. “You’re a biggin’, almost as big as Father’s war beasts!”

Fluttershy couldn’t help but release a sigh of relief, something Flame Storm’s ears picked up. She squeaked as he turned to her, giving her a small smile and a final pat to the bear’s head. “I take it you are Fluttershy?”

“U-Uh, y-yes, I a-am.” Fluttershy spoke softly, her social battery already long out of power from the long day of interacting with her animals and Rainbow Dash.

“Applejack told me about you, said you’re basically the closest thing Ponyville has to a Veterinarian.” Flame Storm walked closer to her, each step taken carefully. Not just for the animals that had come out of the (literal) woodworks to see Fluttershy, but also not to impose himself. Just to be polite. “I was hoping you could help me.”

“Uhm, h-how so?” Fluttershy didn’t like it when ponies asked her for help. It normally meant she was going to either be dragged into a social situation that would find her hiding in a broom closet, or sitting awkwardly in a corner for two hours, or meant she was going to end up being laughed at by Monster Hunters.

“I was hoping you’d have information on the local Manticore hunting grounds, or their hunting behaviors. I’m sure you’ve heard about the Manticore Attack from yesterday, right? I’ve been tasked with hunting it down, but the issue is that I haven’t a damn clue on how to find the damn thing.”

Fluttershy blinked owlishly, before nodding slowly. Manticore Hunting Patterns, yeah, she knew that, she could help with that! She slowly nodded and hurried off to her front door, opening it and vanishing into her little hovel. Flame Storm tilted his head a bit at her sudden sprint, though was surprised by the mare reappearing just as fast, holding a book.

The front was plated with a gold equine skull, sided by two other skulls, a canine one on the left, a feline one on the right, bound into a red material. Flame Storm recognized it as a Bestiary, a rather old one at that. Bestiaries lost the three skull designs a long while back after hundreds of them had been burned for being “Demonic Cult Propaganda” by smaller villages that were more… radical.

“I-I bought this from the s-second hand store in Cloudsdale a few months a-ago.” Her stutter was hammering itself out now as she handed the book over. “It has a c-chapter on Manticores and th-their habits, chapter 37.”

Flame Storm deftly waved through the pages, eye skimming over names, pictures, and numbers, before coming to 37. A frown crossed his face, as the information was limited, for lack of a better word.

“Hm, doesn’t say anything about any exact locations, just a rough estimation… The northern Everfree?” The Pegasus murmured, silently pulling together a mental map of the Everfree. He’d yet to approach that part of the land, and it made him nervous to consider it. A wise hunter never approached unknown territory alone, unarmed, and without a local guide, but Flame Storm was without all three. The only weapons he had to his name were his body and Fire, but that Fire was nothing to write home about, to be frank. And the Everfree Forest had no guide to it, nopony had the guts to go that deep in, less they be eaten by a Hydra, or Manticore, or any Number of unholy abortions against the Gods that laid within the woods.

“It’s n-not ideal, I kn-know.” Fluttershy tapped her fingers together, keeping her eyes away from Flame Storm’s singular one.

“But it’s better than what I had.” Flame Storm interrupted, giving her yet another kind smile. “Thank you, Miss. Here,” He placed the book back into her hands. “That’s all I needed. I’ll get out of your mane, now.”

“O-oh, Ok.” Fluttershy mumbled, slowly waving him off as her fellow Pegasus simply turned hoof and left. For a moment she had the sudden inclination to reach out and stop him, but she hesitated, nervousness and distrust itching at her like a rash. Instead, watching his silhouette vanish behind the garden and trees that served as the entrance (and disguise) for her home, she turned to a curious little creature that had crawled out from under her house.

A fox, one whose fur was stained a deep forest green, a sign of it belonging to the Jaded Canine family, a breed of fox that had learned to survive in the Everfree by disguising itself amongst the foliage and trees. They were also well known for being excellent hunters, capable of spotting a predator from a mile away. Though, their small size made it difficult to actually kill anything.

That’s where ponies came in, ponies like Flame Storm. The Foxes led them to prey, and the Hunters killed them. A symbiotic relationship that kept both parties alive.

“Oh, little critter?” Her Talent warmed her lungs ever so slightly as her words dug into the normally non-Equish speaking animal’s brain. “Could… could you be so kind as to help Mr. Storm find that big mean Manticore?”

The Jade Fox blinked at her caretaker, before scratching her ear with a paw. The soft sensation of her magic being reciprocated made Fluttershy smile, and gave the fox a small pat on the head, before they both ran off. The Pegasus to her cottage to lay down on her couch with a cup of tea to recover from over exhausting her social battery, and the fox to follow Flame Storm, wandering into the Everfree.

1 Day Until Deadline.

From Monday to Thursday, Flame Storm had spent every waking moment Working or Hunting, slowly making his way into the northern parts of the Everfree. It had been rather risky, nearly getting slaughtered several times in his attempts. His chest already had three new claw scars from a wild bear he had run into by accident, an adolescent Manticore, and the wound he was currently being cared for in Ponyville General, a series of gouges though his right pec from a tree that a rather pissed off Hydra blew up with a rather heavy stomp. Turned that tree into a fucking Explosive, and Redheart was not a happy camper with this knowledge.

“I swear, it’s every week with you monster hunters. Every damn day, you all show up, injured in a million and one different ways. At least you have the decency to be humble about being an idiot.”

“I try.” Flame Storm grumbled, biting his tongue as Redheart dug another splinter the size of his finger out of his flesh. She pouted at him with a furrowed brow.

“Look, I know you have to hunt down that Manticore to save your life and the Apple’s land, but you can’t be running yourself ragged like this. I’ve seen you in this hospital almost six times this week, and we’re only three days into it. I’m advocating a medical leave for a day, or at least half of a day so your wounds can mend, at the very least.” She sighed and tied down the last bandage, Redheart’s eyes becoming dull. “At least take a nap, please?”

Flame Storm sighed, averting his eye. “I genuinely wish I was capable of doing so. But every second spent not hunting, is another second the Apples are risking going homeless.” His gaze turned down to his right hand, coarse with scars and burns, and clenched it. “Couldn’t get a nap if I wanted to, either. The Everfree is… silent, but so… Loud. Not a single word, yet It feels like something, or somepony, is trying to tear into my frontal lobe.”

“Then sleep out with the Apples, or just near town!” Redheart barked, the pen in her hand cracking as she stopped writing down the results of this operation.

“I’ve already taken enough from them.” Flame Storm resided himself in that single sentence, before rising and heading to the door. “Do well to stay safe, Nurse.”

“Flame Storm-”

Little too late, the Pegasus had already left. Redheart felt anger well up in her bosom, before it faded, a simple feeling of helpless silence replacing it. “Damnit, self sacrificial brats…”

Back with Flame Storm, he hadn’t wasted a moment before rushing to the Everfree once more. The entrance was quickly becoming painfully familiar to him, the sensation of the wood’s cursed magic trying to consume his soul oddly comforting. If he had a damn left to give, it’d scare him. Sadly, Cobalt stole all of his Fucks, Shits, and Damns.

The woodlands were silent, as per usual, as he wandered past his home and towards the meat of the forest, when the foliage was so thick the sun failed to pierce its green coverage, only a faint glow from magic moss and mushrooms giving it any sight. Flame Storm hated the darkness, but considered it a boon. He couldn’t see shit, but that also meant half the creatures living out here couldn’t see Him.

Of course, that translated to Flame Storm tripping on a green furred fox, who ran between his legs like a bullet. His face planted itself in the dirt like a flower, rising to the sky and blooming with an annoyed glare. One that faded when he saw the fox staring at him with mismatched eyes, Indigo and Orange. It scratched its ear with a paw, before bounding away deeper into the forest. It reached the trees, before turning back to Flame Storm, waving at him awkwardly.

“You… want me to follow?”

It let out a small yip, before bouncing into the darkness. Flame Storm blinked a few times, before rising to his hooves and slowly following behind the small creature. The path it took was winding, painted by warped trees and a smell that tainted the air. He couldn’t quite place his finger on what the smell was, but it did remind him of rotten flesh, ever so slightly.

The Fox bounded over a rather large bundle of roots, coming to a halt to stare at Flame Storm. He slowly climbed up the mass of wood, peeking over at the fox. “Where are you leading me?”

It licked its paw and looked beyond the roots. Flame Storm followed its gaze, and paled under his fur.

Yep, that’s a hunting ground. The collection of bones of all sizes, rotting flesh, fresh and dry blood spills, it all spelled the name of a successful hunter. However, it could simply be any such monster in the Everfree. He needed something more concrete, something more solid to prove this was what he was hunting for.

With care put into every twitch of his muscles, Flame Storm lugged himself over the roots, making sure to be as silent as a mouse. He peered over rotten corpses and half-eaten meals, before coming across the smoking gun. A puddle of viscous green ooze, which when poked at with a loose rib, started melting the outer layers of the bone in an instant. Raw, unrefined Manticore Venom, only available if the stinger was critically injured, stopping the refining process that turns their stomach acid into venom.

“Thank you, small one.” Flame Storm murmured, crawling over the roots again. The Fox simply scratched its side using a tree and stared at him as the Pegasus unfurled a small map he had stolen from Cobalt. He carefully began marking out the path they had taken, roughing out the exact location, and slipping it back into his pocket once he was satisfied. “I need a weapon, some lures, and a trap, come back here in the morning, and wait for the Manticore to show up.” Flame Storm murmured to himself.

The Fox let out a yip, before turning to leave-

Flame Storm grabbed it and flung himself and it through the roots, as his skin turned into ice. A second later, the gaping jaws of the Manticore he had been hunting, and had been unwittingly hunted by, tore through the air he once occupied.

It slowly rose to its paws and let out a low and slow growl, turning to the Pegasus with a glare that curled Flame Storm’s veins. It slowly began to walk forward, licking it’s lips, as it knew it had him in a bind.

The Fox wrangled its way out of Flame Storm’s hands and into the tree line, running like hell. He wished he could do the same, but he realized now why this was the Manticore’s hunting spot. The trees were too thick for anything larger than a house cat to slip through, and the only entrance and exit was the way the Manticore was currently blocking, and coating in its bleeding acid.

“Son of a bitch…” Flame Storm growled, and raised his fists. The Manticore let out a horrible growl, one that sounded almost like laughter. No way out without bloodshed, time to make sure it wasn’t His blood being shed.

[AGAINST THE BEAST, THE MANTICORE TO THE HUNTER]

The two lunged forward, Lion versus Mortal, and they met in the middle. Flame Storm swung his fist upwards directly into the Manticore’s jaw, using his right hand to slap away the swinging claws. The blow knocked its jaw upwards, but it used the full weight of a Manticore its size to try and smother Flame Storm, which was aptly dodged by the Pegasus rolling to the right.

Unfortunately, that right was covered by the stump of the Manticore’s tail, still bleeding acid. It tried shoving its tail into Flame Storm’s face, but he was just fast enough to grapple it away and into the Manticore’s own side. Of course, the acid didn’t do anything, as Manticore fur was specifically evolved to withstand piercing and burns. Flame Storm rolled away farther this time, up onto his hooves in time to be smacked by the Manticore’s paw, thankfully not getting clawed by its claws.

Flame Storm was forced into defensive, however, as the Manticore began lashing out with not just its limbs, but bites as well, nearly taking the stallion’s head and limbs off numerous times. Each swing was answered with a wild step back, several nearly ending with the Pegasus being on the ground, but he kept his balance long enough to lunge forward once the Manticore’s claw got jammed into the dirt.

That lunge ended with Flame Storm on the beast’s back, grabbing wildly onto its diminutive wings. The second his nails dug into it’s leathery flesh, the Manticore began writhing and kicking, trying to buck him off its back, but Flame Storm’s grip was good enough that he simply flapped about in the air, teeth grit hard enough to nearly crack them. Of course, a Manticore’s wings were so small for a reason, being practically useless, and eventually, something in them broke, and Flame Storm was sent flying with two leathery wings in a death grasp.

The momentum carried him through the air, back first into a tree, creating a disgustingly loud SNAP as his poor bones took the brunt of a 280 pound Pegasus. Nothing was broken, thankfully, but his breath was ripped from his lungs like an explosion. It put him down long enough for the Manticore to turn heel and pounce, finally crushing Flame Storm with its weight. It roared like a train in his ear, rearing back to bite his head clean off.

Flame Storm only had a moment to react, and that reaction was to shove his right arm down the Manticore’s throat, inciting his Talent to the surface of his skin with all his temper.

Blood boiled, his flesh and fur curled, and sulfur rose into the air as his flesh ignited, and a bolt of Fire was launched down the Manticore’s throat. The beast’s eyes blew wide open as the flare struck its stomach, and in a reaction, it bit down. Flame Storm and the Manticore screamed as one as their respective pain tore into them, but Flame Storm knew how to bite his tongue and go down swinging.

His left fist flew into the Manticore’s jaw, loosening its fangs from his muscles and knocking its head asunder. With one burst of strength, and a feral roar from deep inside his lungs, Flame Storm wrapped his arms around the Manticore’s neck.

It started thrashing, claws lashing out at Flame Storm’s back, digging deep gashes into his flesh and painting the forest ground with blood. But his grip stayed true, now forcing the beast down onto his knee. It thrashed about, it’s tail managing to toss a glob of acid onto his shoulder, but his roar of agony was swallowed by his muscles screaming. He began to twist, forcing every bit of strength his ligaments could afford to give, pulling his entire body over, until-

CcrRaAcK!

It’s neck went loose, and it fell silent and still. Flame Storm couldn’t stop the sudden shiver that overtook his body, and fell to the earthen floor.

Every part of his body was screaming in pain, from the sinew keeping him together, to the very neurons shutting down in his mind. “Heh…” He wheezed. “Not even a week… and I’m already dying of blood loss, ag…” Flame Storm coughed, pain trying to rip him apart as the gouged flesh on his back tore wider. “Ag… ain…”

Delirium was slowly setting in, and Flame Storm thanked it, for once. The pain eased itself as neurons died out, and he slowly began crawling away. He was only able to get a few feet away, before rolling onto his back, a decision he’d regret if he could feel it.

Something shook him out of the delirious state he found himself in, that being the Fox that had led him here. In its mouth was what looked like a dagger, forged of some kind of black glass. Obsidian? No, it was too rough. The green Fox let it fall onto his chest, a sad look crossing its mismatched eyes. Flame Storm chuckled, and gave it a pat on the head.

“A bit late for a weapon, Small One…” He groaned, but let a wandering hand grab the knife from its place on his stomach. His fingers ran over its edge, and he was surprised to see a thin line of blood flowing from them when they moved away. Sharp as hell…

Flame Storm thought for a moment, before slowly getting to his hooves. “I need… evidence. Can’t… go back without a trophy…” That was hunter etiquette, after all. His gaze turned to the Manticore, and then to the knife.

That would suffice.

Applejack rolled back and forth, sat in her wheelchair in City Hall. Cobalt, as expected, fucked them over, not telling them their deadline was Friday Morning, not Night, so now she and her family waited for the crude Corporal. Flame Storm was called for, but his shack was empty, and after a full day of him being missing, it was assumed he was dead.

“This ain’ good, this ain’ good at all…” Applejack kept muttering to herself, rolling to-and-fro to keep herself doing something. Until Big Mac stopped her, an unreadable expression on his face.

“Yer’ gonna put a hole in Marian’s floor, sweetie.” Granny Smith spoke up for the first time in a while, sat on one of the few benches available. Apple Bloom was sat next to her, flanked by her fellow Cutie Markless fillies, Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle, the two also backed by their sisters, official or otherwise, Rainbow Dash and Rarity.

“Ah’ know, but… Dagnabbit, where is he?! He said he’d hunt that damn Manticore, he said he’d help us out, and here we are, out to dry like laundry! And like torn clothes, were about to be thrown out! Sunnova-”

“APPLEJACK!” Big Mac surprised everypony with his bark, grabbing his sister’s shoulders. “Ah’ know we’re in it deep, but it’s no time to panic, or star’ gettin’ wise with the one feller who could help us.”

Applejack tried to take a few breaths, but in came the Devil to make her trip up and fall. Cobalt walked in without a care of the atmosphere, not caring a single bit about how every mare and stallion in that area sent death stares his way. He looked around slowly, before sighing.

“I assume Flame Storm has failed to return with the Manticore Kill?”

Silence answered him, and a small smile rose to the Corporal’s face. “Such a shame. Well, a few minutes before the hour turns, Granny Smith. The deed to the land and contract, please.” Cobalt stuck a hand out to Granny Smith, for the two papers clutched tight in her hands. Papers tainted with age, stained from the decades of staying in a safe that was improperly sealed.

At her hesitance, Cobalt’s hand twitched, and his personal guards stepped forward, reaching out to rip the papers from her aged hands themselves. Applejack grit her teeth and tried getting up, but her left leg still wouldn’t talk to her. For a moment, Apple Bloom became the wall before the guards, jumping off the bench and standing before her grandmother. A single glare from the Earth Pony guard sent chills up her spine, and a rearing back leg caught her eye.

And then, the air turned… cold.

Something changed, fundamentally, in the room. The air didn’t feel like air, the floor felt like it lost all mass, their very bodies felt like they were high on helium. Cobalt’s eyes slowly turned to the source of the change, one he assumed to be the pissed off Big Mac behind him.

It wasn’t, as the doors flew open, and the thick miasma of blood and gore filled the room, practically a fog. At the door’s mouth was a figure, one that took them a few seconds to figure out. After those few seconds, Cobalt had drawn his flintlock, priming it at the head of the Manticore.

Then, it began to move. The sound of dripping filled the room, and the darkness shied away.

It was not the Manticore, but simply its hide, the eyes once glaring at all living things now hollow and empty. The skinning performed was messy, and blood still poured from its open wounds, coating the one carrying it. That one, being a white furred Pegasus.

His eye glared at Cobalt, but weren’t truly seeing anything at all. The lights were on, but no one was home.

Cobalt stared at the blood soaked Hunter, before smiling and holstering his handgun. “Well, impressive! You actually killed the damn thing. Well, a deal is a deal, I’ll see you all next week, Apples.”

And with nothing else, he left, waltzing up his stairs to his office. Not even his guards knew what to say, simply following behind after a moment too long.

Silence paraded the room, before Flame Storm fell forward, the Manticore hide falling off, revealing the wounds he had been hiding. Big Mac was fast enough to catch him, and began calling out for a medic, a call unheard, forcing him to lug the hunter to the hospital himself. The hide, however, shuffled, and the Fox hopped out, trying its best to shake off all the accumulated blood.

It, and the hide, would later be dragged to his shack by Applejack, cleaned and stitched up as a thanks. Flame Storm wouldn’t hear it for a week, lost to his hollow dreams.

Such is the fate of a Good Hunter, to bleed for another’s gain. But far above, far above even the Heavens, something shifted.

Upon the moon, the outline of Her began to fade.

Berzerkir

by FXCF

Cinders Form From Silence.

A Hunter's Duty Burns.