Paradise, is not always as simple as it seems. Nothing is as it seems. Let Spike and Twilight show you.
Twilight Sparkle, member of a humanitarian organization, and her young, borderline misanthrope assistant Spike, have been sent to the land of Arcadia, a place only colonized three decades ago, to make themselves useful to the natives. Simple right? No. The strange man issued to be their supervisor, is clearly not who he seems. Is anything what it truly seems in this land?
The wind ruffled Twilight's purple hair, like a father would. She looked at the horizon beyond her, as the ship she stood on brought closer, bit by bit. The dark, deep blue of the ocean clashed so greatly with the lighter shade of the sky where they met it would seem as if they were different colors all together. She looked down at her attire. It was composed completely of brown and beige, save for two dull, grey, boots, and the patch on her right arm, of a sun that identified her as being sent from the 'Order of Pacification'. As a child she had was known largely as a prodigy, in next to every thing she tried. But she was so humble no one would notice her. She was humble only because she felt it needless to brag about what she 'could' do instead of doing it. And that's where the 'order' falls in.
The Order sought to bring peace, peacefully. As an organization made by the courts of Equestria this, in its self was extremely odd. Their bidding was Twilight's command. And their current order for her, was to head to the province of Arcadia, and make her self useful to the the natives. It was the land of many creatures never having seen Equestria, though most were now extinct anyway. Those who worshiped these animals when they did exist however were sometimes granted a blessing to their bloodline that related to that particular creature. For example, her young dragon blooded companion.
Spike stood on the far end of the ship leaning on the rail, losing himself in the deep blue of the ocean below him. He was only fifteen and he was going to explore the vast unknown, with two women that refused to resort to violence. He stared down at his reflection in mirror like water. He was like any human, only two abnormally large canines jutted from his mouth. But they only complemented his over all sharp features, and spiky green hair. His black, wool lined bomber jacket covered a dark red shirt, and bore no patch. He wasn't part of the 'Order of Pacification' like his surrogate sister. Only because of views that differed so much from the order's. Twilight had raised him since she was sixteen, and he four. No easy feat, but she managed. He always seemed to have something close to scowl. Even when happy. He felt the breast of his jacket, feeling for his gun, the only keepsake of his family. An ebony black, and gold trimmed navy revolver. On the wooden grip was the carving of a dragon breathing its flame. He was always paranoid as to the weapons location.
Twilight and her assistant were the only ones on deck at the time. The boat was caught in an insane silence. The only audible noise was the creaking of the passenger boat, and the occasional ring of metal striking metal. Spike, always one for slumber decided to make his way to his cabin. According to the captain they would arrive, in the morning. He liked the sound of that. Claustrophobia and what not. He slumped into the bunk that called to him, not bothering to undress.
On the top deck, an old and ever so traveled woman approached the pondering Twilight. She ran her hand through her graying hair before speaking.
"That boy, your brother?" She asked in a strong and smooth voice.
"He may as well be." Twilight never took her eyes away from the horizon.
"I see. It's nice to see, youth with positive influence."
"I suppose," Twilight maintained a melancholy tone.
"This, may seem strange, coming from a stranger, but that place your goin' to... it's harsh. You two won't make it on your own."
Twilight, shifted her gaze to the old woman, but saw nothing where she should have been. Only air and what was behind her at the time. "What the fuck?" Twilight asked herself mentally. She searched with her eyes, before snapping her fingers to cast a particular spell. This spell let her see, inferred. She did so to clarify, if she, the other woman, had cast some invisibility spell on her self. Nothing. She snapped her fingers again, bringing her out of the spell, and into the conclusion "That's not fucking right."
Suddenly, it didn't feel safe here, alone. She dismissed the ordeal as a hallucination from lack of sleep, but still. That's creepy no matter what. She declined to the her cabin, for a bit of rest. She passed by Spike's room and noted the door was open, when she heard his snoring. Peeking inside, she smiled and shut the door. They may have their disagreements but the joy Spike brought her was worth any heartache.
Twilight was almost shocked when she turned around to find the meek Fluttershy waiting, hands behind her back. Light pink hair covered her yellow bush shirt, sleeves rolled up.
"Oh, shy you scared me," Twilight gasped.
"S-sorry. I-I uh, I need to talk, to you," Fluttershy looked up only once.
"Okay, walk with me."
The two walked along to their cabin room. Their conversation, drifting only to the topics of their concern.
"He," Fluttershy paused, "He's just scary."
"Who? Spike?" Twilight asked, truly quizzical.
"Our contact."
"Why?"
"The letter, from the court said he was an officer in the rebellion. Why wasn't he charged with war crimes like most of the other ones? Think of all the deaths he could be responsible for."
"Fluttershy, don't be dissident to him because of things, he might have done."
"Isn't the order about solving things with out violence? What would we need from him?" Fluttershy brought up a point Twilight asked herself.
"People change, Flutter. If he's helping the kingdom then he must have changed."
"I-I suppose." Fluttershy was still uneasy. This she poorly hid.
Spike was in his most favored state of mind. Sleep. His life was something far from worth while, so any time away from consciousness was time he would revere. Most life was far from worth while the way he saw it there were some people who were worth their weight but to Spike most were useless sacks of meat. Twilight, and the order could say life was sacred all they want, but that wouldn't change the grimness of the perception of humanity he held.
Unfortunately for him he dreamed. He hated dreaming. To Spike dreams were useless figments that, served no purpose to any one. This dream consisted of him being faced down by a group of silhoettes. The only thing about their profiles that wasn't a cold black, were their piercing eyes. The sky, a dull unsettling grey, occasionally specked with a splotch of darkness, as black as the sihloettes. The only sound he heard was the metal ringing, like you would hear on ship. No movement, no speaking. Only staring.
Spike couldn't help but feel like it would have been more bareable if, someone had been at his side. This feeling, this longing for companionship, was something he seldom felt. He, thankfully, remembered it was just a dream. Not reality. Though in the end that never really helps. Their penetrating stare was as if Twilight was disapointed with him, only amplified. He tried to move, but he couldn't.
Spike woke gasping. A rap on the door had dragged him from his sleep. For once he was grateful for this.
"Who is it?" He called, sternly.
"I-It's me. Flutter," a timid voice replied.
"Come in."
The door opened slowly, and quietly, in a manner not unlike the woman opening it. She walked in glancing back. She stopped just before Spike, hands clutching each other.
"H-how much about the assignment do you know?" Fluttershy asked.
"As much as I need." Spike laid himself down on the bed, sighing.
"How much is that?"
Spike, looked to Fluttershy and thought, briefly, as to why she was so quizzical. "That we're going to Arcadia, and meeting some weird guy an-"
"Oh, thank Celestia, I'm not the only one who thinks he's weird," Fluttershy interrupted, to Spikes annoyance.
"Revelations," Spike rolled over, back facing Fluttershy.
"I-I don't mean to be mean, I-I would hope I don't come across as that, it's j-just why would, he be helping us? That's just odd. He was part of that whole, rebellion thing you know? An officer, in it, most of them were execu-"
"Fluttershy! Please, I don't really care! Just please go." Spike almost screamed at the normally shy girl, turning to face her.
Fluttershy put her head back down, almost crying, "I-I', s-sorry Spike I-I just, I-I'll go." she left, so fast she left the door open. Spike, rose from his place, walking to the door in order to shut it. With a high pitched creak, the door shut, now muffling the plethora of sound, it had let in on the pale woman's entrance to his humble room. He sat back down on the bed. The only thing keeping him from slipping back into the cool embrace of sleep, was the eery feeling of being watched. He marked this off as silly, and lied down. He tried to escape back to slumber, but something kept him awake. He sighed, slowly breathing out the word, 'damn'.
Twilight was having a most splendid dream. She dreamed she was somewhere away. Alone, in a field of green. Under a tree that had been a product of time. She looked up to the sky. It was gray, and cloudy, but it was how she liked the sky. The dullness was beautiful to her.Clouds looked as if they were painted gently with brush strokes of pure elegance. The air here was vividly cool, and crisp. How is this real? She asked herself. She took her place under the tree, opening a nameless book that felt weightless in her dark hands.
Suddenly she felt the ground shake, she gasped, she looked around herself, and then woke. She rose straight up from her bunk, with lightening speed, earning a startled 'eep' from her friend Fluttershy. She breathed heavily a moment. No earthquake. Just being waken by her, very shy friend.
"I-I'm sorry Twi, I didn't mean-" the timid one started.
"It's okay shy, what do you need?" Twilight ended her apology.
"We're here." Fluttershy said, quickly.
"Oh okay well, give me some time to get dressed," she paused looking at Fluttershy, "I uh, I'd like privacy for that."
Fluttershy nodded with an apologetic face , leaving the room, as fast as she could, yet maintaining her bashful nature. Now alone in the room Twilight could stand, comfortably wearing only her under wear stretching her muscles for the day ahead. As the woolen blanket left her form it revealed a sight most appalling. Between her shoulder blades there lay a burn, that took the shape of a star. She did her best to keep this from others eyes. The only other person who knew of it (to her knowledge) was Fluttershy. It was an embarrassment in her own. It marked a day of shame.
She dressed herself in the same attire she adorned the previous day, grabbed her pack of clothes, and hurried out to be met by her companions. Amidst the commotion of bringing a boat into harbor Spike, leaned against the rail facing the door, holding two grey backpacks. Fluttershy, stood in her usual stance, head down, hands in each others embrace.
"Well," she began,"are we all ready?"
"I just n-need to ch-check," Fluttershy went back into the dim room to retrieve said item.
Spike left the rail, for Twilights side taking her bag. A moment passed before Fluttershy had found them again, nodding. Now they could finally leave this horrible tub, and set foot on dry, stable, unmoving land.
A man stood not far from the docks, watching all of the people pass by. Young, old, male, and female. He stood straight up, staring past his white hair, eyes scanning for those in which he sought. His eyes found a woman, beautiful purple, and curly volumous hair. But she was not the one he was to find, as her skin was far too fair. Another woman, this one fitting the skin color, only this one had neon blue hair. His eyes met another set of eyes, heading his direction, past the swarm of people. Two more pairs of eyes accompanied this set.
They now stood not but three feet away. The man let his eyes view the rest of her. Yes this was the woman he was meant to meet. He stepped forward putting his aged hand out to greet the woman. She accepted his hand, shaking it with a tight grip before, speaking.
"Danial Eris?"
"That is I. Please, come I will show you to the train." His voice was smooth, strong, and overbearingly gruff.
"Train?" Spike asked.
"Yes boy, a train. Now, please miss Sparkle, come."
He turned to Fluttershy who, as always, kept quiet. She garnered fear for the man, that grew by each passing second. He took one of her hands in his own.
"Please don't be afraid. Fear is an unnecessary thing."
Fluttershy searched for words, but only blushed at his kindness. He was still, undoubtedly strange though.
"Now come along. The train will be leaving soon," he glanced at Spike before turning back to Twilight, "Is the boy coming too?"
"Yes, and his name is Spike," Twilight corrected his rudeness, giving a stern look.
"Yes. Come along now 'Spike', your're a member of this party too it would seem. So don't fall behind," Danial said, politely but with clear traces of malice.
They began their walk, Twilight next to Danial, discussing the near future. Fluttershy slightly behind, and even farther back, Spike walked still holding the bags, scowling. He wished to leave this town at once, but kept quiet. Patient and silent.
"Now, I suppose you're wondering just where it is you're going."
"Yeah, that'd be great," Twilight said, keeping her eyes on the dirt road they walked on.
"Well there's a small village of native's that live off of the apples grown by a farm, not far from where they live. That farm is suffering a drastic reduction in productivity, and they'll need your help."
"I see. And why don't we just take a carriage straight to the farm?"
"Oh no. Here any equine, no matter which territory you may find yourself in is found to be 'sacred'. Personally I hate horses."
"That's interesting. All of them feel this way?"
"How should I know. I'm no historian."
Spike eavesdropped as best he could. But soon found the strain too much. He turned his attention to the people around him. Or as he, saw them, the endless crowds of wasted skin. He began to notice, what felt like, faceless people, staring back through the crowd. He couldn't tell if what he saw was true, or not but it enough to catch his attention. It caught all of his attention. He soon began to feel, that loneliness again.
The group had found the station, save for Spike. He bumped in to Fluttershy who, in fear, spread her wings, knocking the three bags from his arms. Twilight turned, her hand wrapped in an aura, that soon wrapped the three bags before they could find a landing. Several people looked on at this, as anyone who knew magic was of course more rare as someone with wings. Spike took each bag all levitating, getting an electrifying rush as he came into contact with the aura.
"So you know magic? Isn't that spectacular." Danial said, sounding genuinely amazed.
"Y-yes, I graduated top of uh, my class." Twilight said, not wanting to boast.
"Why, I do as well. But lets not linger. As I've stressed we've a train to catch."
Danial bought four tickets from the booth. That's three tickets for first class, one for coach. None were too pleased. But Spike took his ticket happily knowing he wouldn't have to ride near this man. They walked along the wooden boarding platform, waiting for the train to arrive. It finally did, it sounding like thunder.
"Are you sure you'll be okay in first class, Spike?" Twilight asked, concerned for the teenager.
"Yeah, of course I'll be fine, Twi. It's just going to be a little more crowded, and a little more shitty."
"Okay, Spike," she hugged him.
"Any moment now," Danial called out soiling the mood of the moment.
Spike and Twilight parted heading for opposite ends of the train, losing each other in the crowds. Twilight boarded her train car along side Fluttershy, searching for the booth that the eager Danial had already commandeered for their ride. They sat, on the smooth wooden, and cushioned bench, Twilight closer to the window to keep Fluttershy from nearly dying of a heart attack. Danial sat, fingers entwined on the table separating the trio, and gaze upon the two girls.
"So," he began, " Do either of you know a thing of all the different people here?"
The girls looked at each other, a moment before facing him again.
"Well?"
"That, they're indigenous?" Twilight said, embarrassed at the lack of research she had done.
"Well I suppose we have our topic, for the ride. There are several groups of natives. The ones we are off to visit, are of the Mycenaean. They are under some hard times at the moment, what with this farm going under. Many have lend their hand to the farmers, but it would appear as if they're new to apple farming."
"They're new but they decided to let an entire tribe of people, depend on them?"
"Well you see it was either that or die. They're given revenue for giving 75% of their harvest to the Mycenaean. This revenue is what sustains them."
"Why don't they just eat the apples they grow. If they can grow enough to feed a village then I'm sure they can feed a family," Twilight said, a matter of factly.
"You don't understand. The revenue comes from the Mycenaean. Ether they hand over the apples, or they will be slaughtered," he said coldly.
Fluttershy went completely white.
"S-slaughtered?" she stuttered quizzically.
"Exterminated," Danial replied plainly, frightening the woman further.
"S-so lets hear about the rest of the people, please." Twilight tried saving her friend from embarrassment.
"Gladly," the cryptic man cleared his throat, "There are also the Var-"
A loud clang of metal, striking a wooden surface, interrupted him. To his left, and the ladies right, a servant had tripped splashing an elegantly dressed young woman, with the liquid aboard his dish. Her eyes closed, her nose scrunched. As Danial looked closer, he found that this was the same woman, he saw leaving the same boat as Twilight. Danial had to fight back a sudden need to laugh, as the boy carrying the tray of refreshments tried to apologize. That only earned him a scowl, that would make Celestia her self uncomfortable. Danial chuckled, turning back to the two women, "Madness," he said smiling.
" Anyway, as I was saying," the two girls turned to face him again, "The varangians are another group of natives. Personally I find them to be the most interesting. They live in the most northern part of the province all along the Valhallen mountain range. I will warn you however, they are a violent group of people, and they don't take kindly to those they consider invaders."
Fluttershy was almost terrified, shaking in her seat. She felt foolish for coming along now.
"Next we have the Seneca people. They live in the desert, and the grasslands far to the East. Compared to the other tribes here in Arcadia, they are a generally peaceful people. Just stay polite, and they won't put your head on the end of a stick."
Twilight held Fluttershys hand under the table, completely aware of the fear striking the other woman's being.
"There's the flamboyant Demimonde, in Nirvana.
Fluttershy's tenseness lessened for a moment. Then Danial spoke again.
"Lastly there's the Zahhak people, to the south in tartarus. Almost wiped from existence, after a war with the Varangian. The Varangian don't take prisoners you see. These people worshiped dragons, hoping they would be granted gifts to aid them. Unfortunately for them, that was not enough."
"I-I'm sorry, I-I n-need to use to bathroom," Fluttershy stood, wiping a tear from her cheek, and racing off to the door marked restroom.
Danial looked to looked to Twilight, "I think I may have scared her."
All his life Spike had disliked people. But there was something about children that didn't set him off like the more grown of people. If someone asked him he would say, "They just haven't had enough time to piss me off yet." He had to thank the princesses that was the case. He had to thank them because the young girl next to him was pestering him to no end. But really the coach car annoyed him all together. The service was lousy, the bench's were hard, and there was far too many people.
"Why's your teeth so pointy?" Asked the redheaded girl next to Spike.
"Just is." He answered.
"Is that jacket warm?"
"Yup."
"Can I try it on?"
"Nope."
"Why?
"I said do," Spike said clenching his teeth.
Spike began to, finally drown the drawling voice of the girl out, giving him the ability to hear his own thoughts. He thought of the contact, and his rude nature towards himself. Why was he so hateful towards him that he would force him into coach, and let the girls share 1st class? Spike blamed it on a sex-drive decades younger than the man. A new noise assaulted Spikes ears, the screech of the train coming to a halt.
"It was a pleasure meetin' ya' mister, uh," the girl stuck her hand out, a quizzical look on her face.
"Call me Weseluck," Spike said, ignoring her hand and standing as the train finally stopped.
The train stopped and Spike hurried to the exit, being refreshed by the coolness of the fresh air. The first thing he noticed was that the train station, was placed far away from, anywhere near. It seemed to be placed in a random location in the middle of a bowl-like field.
Spike reminded himself, that he needed to find the girls, and made his way through the crowds of people leaving the train. He stopped in front of the white haired man, who seemed to be stretching, and saw past him to see the meek Fluttershy, holding her bag, and the studious Twilight, searching for him. "Over here," he called approaching the trio.
"Think, goodness you're here Spike, I was beginning to get worried," Twilight hugged him.
Spike endured the warmness, maintaining a preference cold emotionless.
"Welcome to Elysia, young man," the Old man said, almost reluctantly.
Spike looked at him and nodded, then turned back to his companions, sticking his hand out for their bags, always remembering his place, as their assistant.
"No, Spike, We'll get it from here." Twilights words surprised him.
"Don't be silly, I'm assisting you. It's my job."
"No, I can handle it, Spike."
"Suit your self."
Danial had seemingly vanished, when the conversation ended. Spike and Twilight both turned to face Fluttershy, who's attention was still at the ground, and asked her where he had found himself off to.
"I-I don't know."
"Well why would he just leave?" Spike asked the obvious question.
"He is pretty weird," Fluttershy said, face to the ground still.
Just as she said that Danial appeared behind her, a black cloud dispersing as he did. Fluttershy gasped, almost fainting, at the surprise.
"Oh, am I," he began, "well I'm sorry I don't fit your expectations as to how a man, should act, when uprooted from his home, and put in a far away, land that he only had the slightest clue about when your oh so righteous monarchs placed me here."
Fluttershy's eyes began to water, her back still facing the man.
"Mr. Eris, please she didn't mean it," Twilight pleaded.
"Oh, no it's true. I'm weird, and your friend sought only to voice her opinion. I've been there before. Now, come along, we've still a far way to go. Bu-"
"How far?" Spike interrupted.
"Over the hills, boy. But rest assured boy, when we arrive, the people will treat you with the utmost hospitality."
"Well maybe we should hurry then. I'm getting tired."
After a brief moment of stretching, the group set out to find the farm. When they finally made it to the small separation in the peaks of the tall, almost mountain like hills on the edge of the bowl-like field they stood in pure awe. The landscape before them was an expansive plain of hills. Trees at the base of the mountains, and to the right, between the distant grasslands, and the rolling green hills. Just beyond them lay mountains that reached high into the sky. They seemed to go on forever. Even Spike stood staring. But of course the silence, and feeling grandeur can not last forever. It was broken, by the tall lanky Danial. "That," he paused, "Is were the Varangian live. Those mountains are harsh, snowy, and shape the most merciless people I've ever seen." Fluttershy glanced nervously at him. "Well, lets get going, we must get to the farm before night."
Twilight spent most of the way filling Spike in, and Spike spent most of the way pretending to listen. The first sign of civilization, aside from the worn dirt road that cut through the hills, was an old and beaten fence. The walk it self had taken almost two hours. The sky was now a bright blue. Clouds were over head dancing their perpetual waltz with each other.
"I trust you all can make it from here," Danial yawned putting a hand on the fence post, "Just follow the path, and you'll find yourself at an old farm."
"I thought we were suppose to be helping the Mycenaean?" Twilight asked, almost perplexed.
"By helping these farmers, you help the Mycenaean." Danial said.
Danial stared at Twilight, a faint grin on his face. Twilight felt as if the burn on her back was on fire. It certainly felt as if it were. Her face, contorted into a smile that was forced through pain. Danial nodded. "Here," he produced a small slip of paper, "Recite these words once you have done, what you feel you've done your job." Twilight nodded, taking it in her hand, feeling relieved that once his gaze left her so did the burning sensation on her back. She looked down at the slip. On it's pure white surface she silently read the words 'et in Arcadia ego'. She looked back up and Danial was gone, only a black smoke dispersing in the wind.
Twilight stood a moment. She looked at the slip of paper. She didn't recognize the language. The only word she knew was Arcadia. Twilight looked at the spot where Danial was, then looked to Fluttershy, and Spike.
"Well I-I guess we better get going," she said, concealing the slip in her bag.
"Yep," Spike said, beginning the final leg of their journey to the farm.
Fluttershy followed him, and Twilight her, still going over the phrase in her mind. She was almost frightened by it. It seemed to hold an ominous cloud over her mind that sought to destroy what little sanctity she had left in her mind. Everything in this land felt almost surreal, and now this single sentence was added to the mental strain it gave.
The trees, previously few, became many. Soon there was not a glance not filled with the vegetation. Then they reached a final wooden gate, leading to a clearing surrounded by trees filled with apples. They opened it and walked in. They were finally at this farm. The air was soaked in silence, that they dare not disturb. To do so would feel unnatural.
Still keeping the awkward silence that pulsed through out this stead, they approached the house in the center of the clearing, a single step at a time. For the longest time the only sound they heard was the crunch of dirt beneath them. If not for her fear of flight Fluttershy would have taken to her wings to avoid this. Her eyes were speaking the anxiety she felt. Spikes eyes flickered between his two companions, while Twilight kept a face relatively blank.
Finally they had made it to the door, only to wait for something to happen. Nothing happened. Spike, fed up with waiting, knocked on the door. A moment passed. Nothing happened, save for a breeze pulling the decrepit old wind mills blades into motion. He knocked again, and a stir from inside was heard. Fluttershy felt as if they were being watched. For once she felt it a good idea for her voice to break the silence.
"Spike do you really t-think that's a g-good plan?"
Spike pressed his ear to the door, "Yep, best one I've had all day," he replied, sarcastically.
Fluttershy opened her mouth to retort, but found no words.
"Besides," he glanced back while knocking, "how else should we let 'em know we're he-"
The door opened quickly, then shut again, slamming into Spikes face, sending him to the ground, and pulling a slew of vulgarities from his mouth. Just as the two girls joined his side to help him up, a figure that looked like death to them group, emerged from the side of the house, wielding a rifle that looked to be fitted with a revolvers cylinder.
Fluttershy was already crying, her eyes clenched shut, Twilight holding her close. Spike fought a war in his head, debating whether or not to draw his gun. The man stepped forward, his black boots bringing back that crunching of the dirt. Spike looked at his face, but met only a faded scarf covering his mouth and nose, and an eye patch over his left eye. His right carried no color, and a look that could kill, as it contorted to an expression that could be a synonym for hate. Atop his head was a black flat brimmed hat, that cast a shadow over his face, and supernatural aura as it blocked out the sun from Spikes view.
"What da' you want?!" a voice called from the house, a thick drawl surrounding it.
Spike found no words he could share, that he thought would keep them from death, he only lay in a, cold, sweating mess.
"I said what the fuck do you want?!" the voicing called again, distinguishing a feminine tone.
Twilight found the words Spike so desperately sought, "W-we're here, f-from the o-order of pacification!" she yelled back.
Silence was her response. The only noise was Fluttershys muffled prayers to the princesses.
After what felt like an hour Twilight heard footsteps approach the door. When they reached the door, there was a pause. They waited for the next action. The door swung open violently to reveal a blonde, stetson wearing, woman in severely worn attire. She held a revolver, older than Spikes that she dropped to her side in relief as she saw Twilights patch on her shoulder.
"Thank the twins," she uttered, motioning for the man to lower his weapon as well.
If a blade were present one could cut the silence with a knife. Save for Twilights heart, and Fluttershys, frantic babbling for intervention. She had not yet realized the possibility of being shot was now extinguished. Fluttershy was hugging Twilight with crushing tightness, her tears dampening the collar of Twilights shirt. Twilight whispered in to her ear, hoping to calm her. As usual, it didn't work. Spike stood up, keeping one eye on the towering man with the rifle, still wary of these farmers.
"I-I'm sorry, y'all. I thought it wan one of them damn tribal's, come to wipe us out," the woman stepped into the dirt, barefoot, to help the violet haired one, and the pink haired one.
"Just 'one', of them damn tribal's?" Spike said, pausing the brushing off, of his jacket.
"Yeah," she took Twilights hand to help her up, Fluttershy still clinging to her,"They some mean bastards, I tell ya', them Myca-what-ever-an's."
Spike, nodded, turning his gaze back to the behemoth, before him.
The man was nearing eight foot easily, now that Spike focus wasn't on the gun her held, it was clearto see his abnormal height.
"Uhh, hello," Spike waved his hand slightly.
The man stood solemn like a statue.
Spike looked from left, to right, shrugging, "Can you talk?"
He still stood there, only one eye to be seen.
"I guess not." Spike turned back to the blonde haired woman.
She had, had strange luck, prying the anxiety ridden Fluttershy from, Twilight. Normally if Fluttershy was that scared there was nothing you could do about it, one of the main reasons Spike didn't want her to come at all. That, and Fluttershy had a strange comfort around him, and talked more to him than anyone. Which was more than annoying sometimes.
Twilight stood up now, brushing off the seat of her pants with one hand, and extending the other to shake the blondes. Spike glanced away, hearing the faint noise of their speech. The tall man, was gone. When he looked back, the blonde woman, was patting Fluttershy on the back, and pointing inside the house somewhere. Fluttershy rushed in, holding her bag, probably to change her pants, judging by the stain that had formed. He tuned back in to the conversation.
". . . -m sorry, she has a, err, uh. A few anxiety disorders,m I'm sorry if she's any trouble, she means the best though," Twilight said, explaining the other girls, behavior.
"It aint nothin'. Now come on in. Y'all are gonna' need the rest, for the work tomorra'." The blonde woman disappeared inside the house, smiling.
Twilight reached for her bag, laying in the dirt, but Spike beat her to it, waving his hand, as if to tell her to go inside. She did so.
The inside of the house, was with out light for the most part. Save for a few dim lamps. Spike, who was standing in the door way could see a kitchen far off past, a couch, and to his left a stair case. In the doorway, of the kitchen Spike saw a very jubilant face, wave for him to come closer. He complied, but not before dropping his, and Twilights things on the couch.
The air in the kitchen, was very sweet. Especially when compared to the uneasy staleness of the air in the lounge. A moment passed when he found the surprisingly short blonde woman, in front of him again. They were the same height, Spike not very tall himself.
"Sugar, just get whatever, ya' like, an' come on to the dinin' room," she handed him a white plate.
Spike nodded, as she left for the dining room, carrying a plate of food with some unseen food on it.
He turned left to find a fine assortment of food. And there was an undeniable theme to go along with it. Apples. He knew they farmed apples, but he didn't know it took up half their diet. From this dinner it seemed that they ate only apples, and meat. All along the green, tile, counter it was lined with food, ranging from baked apples, to steak. Pork, and beef. Struedal, and stew.
Spike used a pre-placed fork, to place a very succulent looking steak on his plate, and gathered a large pile of baked apple slices as a side, preferring to keep things simple. He joined the others in the dining room. Twilight and the blonde woman had apparently hit it off, as they were talking to each other, very joyfully. Spike took a seat on the chair farthest from the doorway. The first question to pop in to his, young, mind was: Where's the tall dude, that almost shot me? He would have asked, but Fluttershy was joining them, face down, and wearing a fresh pair of pants. But no plate.
"Why don't ya'll get yerself some food? You gotta be hungry." The blonde said, before Fluttershy even sat down.
"It's okay," she mumbled in response before, sitting down.
"It's alright, my cookin's fine."
"I-It's not that, I-I'm a vegetarian. And I really don't care much for apples. I don't mean to be ru-"
The blonde looked at her quizzically,"A vegi-what?"
"A-a, uh. A vegetarian," Fluttershy looked down to her lap.
Spike rolled his eyes and began eating.
"What in tarnation is that?" The blonde asked maintaining perplexion.
"I don't eat meat." Fluttershy swallowed.
"Not even bacon?"
"No." her head sank lower.
"Chicken?"
She shook her head.
"Beef?"
Twilight decided to end Fluttershy's torment, "She doesn't eat meat, or anything that comes from animals. And I'm sorry but apples make her sick to her stomach."
"Oh, uh, sorry then." The blonde said, eating her first piece of dinner. "Ah, got some celery in the pantry, if yer hungry."
"No, it's fine, I'll be okay."
"Suit yer self." the blonde began to truly eat.
For the rest of the dinner Spike, and Fluttershy sat in silence while Twilight, and the farmer, whose name turned out to be Applejack, talked among themselves. Spike listened for any information on the man, but surprisingly, Twilight never brought it up. Very strange considering that Twilights curiosity often dwarfed Spikes. He would have asked himself, but the drawl of this woman was driving him mad. It was like she was raised with complete disregard for the letter 'G'.
When supper was finally over Applejack showed them to their rooms. They made their way up the creaky stairs, following her, an eary lack of sound hanging over them. Spike would be sharing a room with the shy one, and Twilght got a room all to herself. At first she insisted she share a room with the other two, as would be unfair for her to have so much room. But she agreed to stay alone, in the end. After all that was over with Applejack stood erect in the hallway, in front of them, and gave them the words, "Rest up now, there's alotta' work ta' do," and then left, leaving them to make themselves at home. They wasted no time getting to bed.
Twilight, dreamed again. Though this dream was of definate contrast to the one she had, last night. It was of her home in Canterlot. She was standing on her balcony. It was exactly how she remembered it, only there wasn't a book in her hand, and complete chaos had stolen away the placidity of the capitol city. The sky was a furious red, and the towers, that should have been reaching for it, were instead crumbling. The cobblestone streets below, had been set ablaze, as complete frenzies of people trampled one another in an attempt to escape consumption by the horde of flame behind them.
The only thing louder than the screaming of men women, and children was the blaring of sirens, calling for evacuation. But even with how loud that was, the most chilling noise was the constant moaning, she heard, coming from somewhere she could not place. it did nothing hinder the clarity of the door behind her being broken down, splinters flying everywhere. She turned, her face, two teary rivers flowing from her eyes, to see a group of soldiers coming in her direction. They each wore the uniform of the Equestrian military, and more frightening than the rifles they pointed at her, was the face at the front of them all. Her brother.
His face carried no sympathy, only a scowl as if she, Twilight, had wronged him. He pointed his finger at her, motioning for the line of men that had formed, to open fire. As the muzzles flashed she woke, her sweat covering herself, and the sheets. She sat up straight, almost giving the poor farm girl, that turned the lamp on, have a heart attack.
"Uh, sorry but it's time ta' get up, kay?" Applejack said, very unsure.
"So-sorry, I-I had a, a bad dream." Twilight said, breathing heavily.
"I noticed. So, uh meet me outside one you wash up. Towels are in the closet kay?" Applejack was now at the door.
Twilight nodded, Applejack left.
Twilight tossed the quilt covering her to the side, and rose from her bed, to find a most unsettling feeling between her legs. a moist feeling. An aggravating one. Her pupils dilated, she looked down, to her cotton undergarments. Yes exactly what she had feared, had happened. Somehow her nightmare, was now classifiable as a wet dream. She was mortified.
It was still as dark as it was when they laid themselves down for slumber, when their hostess woke them. Still very groggy, they bathed, and dressed themselves in clothes set aside very purely, for work. They knew they would need it. None of them asked about breakfast, not wanting to impose. Very simply, they stepped outside and let the now, boot wearing, Applejack tell them what to do. Which was the same for each. Pick apples.
Applejack told them the baskets were in the barn. Spike, and Fluttershy took off. Twilight lingered however, having recovered mostly from this mornings shocking circumstances. Or rather, she walked with Applejack, trying to get her attention.
"Excuse me, Applejack," Twilight said, still at her side.
"Call me A.J." A.J continued walking.
"A.J, I don't think simply picking apples, will help you much."
A.J, glanced at her.
"Let me explain," she cleared her throat,"for one, the trees look as if they haven't been pruned in a long time. Two they aren't very orderly, it'd be alot easier to harvest the apples if they were in rows, a-,"
"Pardon me Twi, you know that magic uhh, right?" They stopped.
"Uhm, yes."
"So you can levitate things, an' that kinda stuff?"
"Yes, most people who take on magic do." Twilight said a-matter-of-factly.
"Ya' know where that'd be real useful?"
"Uhhrm-"
"In tha' orchord. Pickin' apples."
Twilight stared a second, before Applejack gently turned her in the direction of the barn, and gave a light shove. Twilight shrugged and began her walk to the barn in submission, as she could expect many months in this situation.
Spike was already hard at work. Only working hard because Twilight asked him to. If it were up to him he would be hid away, deep in a coma like trance. Probably in a maddening dream. He picked apples off any tree he could. Despite his dislike for Applejack, he would not let anyone have a reason to call him lazy. He picked the apples, placing them in the basket. He did this for hours. His stomach begged of him to eat. He didn't. Every time he filled up the basket he took it to the cart he was directed to, with the hope that someone would tell him to stop. He kept working as hard as he could. Which in all honesty, was quite easy. The only real chore was holding the basket.
Spike paused. He heard a loud noise, from deep within the acres of trees. He didn't know what it was. He let the basket stay in it's spot, while he went farther. He was getting closer, as the noise was louder. It was an agitating, thumping noise. But loud none the less. He started to feel uneasy. He brushed his left hand across his jacket breast, assuring himself that his gun was there. The thumping kept getting louder, and louder. Sometimes it would stop for a moment, then continue.
He walked past two trees that had grown close, and now he had pond the source of this noise. He looked to see the man who held him at gunpoint, yesterday. Now he was bare chested, and didn't wear that large hat, revealing that the scarf he wore, wrapped around his head, occasional tufts of hair poking out. But his unusual attire was not what really stole his attention. What did was what he was doing. Spike saw this man, not picking apples from the tree. Not shaking the apples from the tree. But punching the tree, so that they fell, a good amount landing in the baskets that lay around. Those that did not he would simply toss those into the basket, then resume his feat of strength. All Spike knew of the tree was that it held whitish, pink leaves that concealed its precious fruit.
Spike watched the brute, as he went around more trees, of a similar species, repeating his example of power. Spike was never one to be amazed, but this was something that left even his jaw upon the ground. Spikes focus went towards the man himself again, as he brought a basket back towards the others. He was easily eight feet tall, if not more. And his skin looked to have been burned, as one side held a beautiful bronze tone, while the other was scarred and melted. Spike grimaced. It all reminded him of his old 'ability' and why he was taken from him. He snapped back to reality, and realized, how much of a stalker he cam across as at the moment. He left, back to picking his apples for the day. As he could expect many months of this same, old, routine.
Fluttershy, while always a bit nervous was in a fantasy land. She walked round and round the orchards, plucking that apples from their sire's branch's. She could expect many months of this paradise. And she knew it. Was she in the fabled lands of the after life? No of course not. But it certainly felt as though that were true. Here she felt free of any, and all fear, save for her fear of heights. She almost wanted to fly. But no, every one has their limits. And that was hers. She hummed a tune to her self, feeling free of any worldly responsibilities. Next deciding on a break, as the sun was at its highest.
She settled under a much taller of the, usually, short and wide trees. It made her feel safe. Like it could wrap her in its limbs, and protect her from what she fears in this life. She took off her chelsea boots,(artificial leather of course) and simply rested. No fear. No pain. No humiliation. Just this.
Applejack, was not as happy as she seemed. No where near as happy. She felt old, at just thirty. But she knew why she felt this way. Unfortunately, yes, she did. She did not partake in the apple picking today, which only meant, to her at least, she would need to pick up the slack tomorrow. Tonight she would lay her body down early, simply to insure that she could. for today she was forced into a different type of labor.
It was only around noon. But she had put this off, as long as she could, taking a well deserved bath, after shooing off Twilight. Very depressed like she sat at her families heirloom in the corner of the lounge, a desk made from the first apple tree they had ever grown. Its wood, a beautiful hue. She felt it obligational for this to help her in the following task. Liquid filling up her eyes, she sat her hat down, to the side giving her enough room to do what she must. She almost cringed at the scrape of the wood as she opened the drawer, to withdraw a fountain pen, and a parchment. With a sigh, edging on a whimper, she got to work.
Dear, Applebloom
I know you miss me, and being on the farm. But there are reasons beyond the tribals, what ever their name might be. I know you didn't want to miss me and the land. I already said that. Mama and daddy brought us here hoping we could grow our apples in peace. But I missed that all up. I thought we was helping folks. I didn't think they would be so cut-throat with us when I said I had to stop giving them away and that I needed something in return. The only friend I got out here is some tall guy who can't talk good but he's like kin to me, and he would be to you. But that's my fault. I'm sorry you can't be here, but you wouldn't want to be here if you knew the whole reason you can't. I'm dying. I don't know how or why, but I am. And I don't want you to see me go. It would be too rough on a girl your age, to see her big strong sister wither away into nothing. I know granny does not have much more time, but she has more than me. I'm sorry I'm leaving you. I don't want to leave you, and its unfair. But if you have to blame anyone blame me. Just please promise your self you won't grow up to be an big old idiot like me. Get an education, because after I'm gone the apples aren't farmers no more. Again I'm sorry. I never were much of a writer, so I'm sorry I have to cut this so short. Just know that I will always love you, and I'll be with mama and daddy always watching you, in the sky. It will be our true paradise. What we thought Arcadia would be.
Love, your sister, Applejack.
The poor, woeful slid her paper to the right, so her tears would not ruin it, as her head collapsed into her arms, crying horribly into them. Pathetic sobs, being the only noise in the home at the moment. It was true, every thing she had written. She was dying. Of some illness she knew nothing of. Only that sometimes she cried blood, which made her fearful to cry in the first place. She would be gone soon. And all she could hope for, was that the stories she heard of, the afterlife, were true. She didn't want to die. No one did.
The day was coming fast to a close, the sun setting, and shooting its rays through the multi-colored leaves of the trees, and almost seemed to reach out and crab the farm, as if to pull it back into the forest, and more. The two farmers and the three who hand lent their hand sat around the table, Fluttershy, as one would expect, was eating as she was very hungry having not had supper last night. The only sound was the noise of silverware making scrapes along the plates, and the crunching of the fruit each of them ate. Be it apple, or celery.
You didn't have to know the woman, to tell she was deep in thought. Applejack barely ate her food. Which almost opposed her display last night, in which she almost shoveled the food down. If that weren't enough, she looked as if she was on the verge of tears the entire time. No one knew of the letter. At this moment only she did. And that is why she seemed this way because she was.
Through the night no body dreamed except Spike. And he dreamed enough for every one in the house. His dream brought him fear. Fear he did not know. He dreamed he was wandering through the orchards, trees stripped of any leaves, grass void of any color. The sky had an awful gleam, that reminded him of the milk he had drank at supper. And the most frightening, a low hum, occasionally violated by a shallow thud. He wanted to sit, and hold his knees close to his chest, like Fluttershy would have done. But he was not Fluttershy. He trekked past the trees that seemed more like corpses, until he found where their roots grew up, and out of the ground.
He turned a moment, but found that the roots behind him had sprung up, as if they had always been like that. He continued on, past the ones in front of him, being careful not to trip. He felt as if he were navigating a maze, where one path would see him tumbling another would see him past. After what felt like hours of careful maneuvering he set his eyes on a place only mere yards away, where the trees grew in a formation as if to form a tunnel. He worked his way to it, delighted by the lack of roots on the ground.
Now the pace of his travel was going by at almost five times the rate it was seconds ago. A chill raped him of his warmth, he zipped up his jacket. After moments more of walking he emerged from the tunnel of tree's, now in a place of fields. Slowly, he scanned the horizon. This place was by far, much more appealing than the place on the other end of the trees. Before he could settle, a breeze rolled over his ears, as he heard his name spoken so softly, it was like it belonged to the breeze.
He turned around, and he found, before him not tree's. Not a tunnel. Not the splendid fields he thought were surrounding him. But Twilight. Only Twilght, was hanging off a large and wooden 'T'. She was dead. But Spike could only hope she was dead, as his eyes scanned over her body. The buzz of flies, assaulted his ear drums, while the smell of Twilghts body did his nose. Her mouth was sewn shut, and her limbs nailed to the wood in which she hung. Maggots ate away at her eyes, and blood and innards oozed from her lacerated torso. The skin on her body was beginning to darken, and the nails on her toes seemed to have been forced upwards.
Spike awoke before he had time to react. His eyes wide, and his body sweating profusely. He tried to calm himself, so he would not wake Fluttershy who, though he hated to admit it, looked adorable when she slept. The air felt frigid, and only more so as he inhaled. He looked outside, still dark. He lay his head back down. There was now hum. Only the tender breathing of he, and Fluttershy. It was all a dream.
He lay there, as if asleep, but in truth too afraid to fall back in to the wrappings of slumber. For once he didn't want to sleep.
The day went by just as before, as the sun rose opposite as the way it set rays of light reaching for the farm again. The apple pickers, this time with the aid of Applejack, worked tediously around the clock only taking breaks ever so often. Applejack felt a need to thank Spike specifically for his aid. He did not want to accept. He tried his best to avoid the woman, as pretentious as it may seem. But she insisted that he deserved the hard cider, and a break that she offered him. He drank it, and he had to say it was by far the best thing an apple could be used for.
Though reluctant to lounge in the barn with the woman he held malice for, he took a break as well. Sure she would dribble on about farm life. She did how ever, the conversation slowly bled into more interesting topics.
"So what d'you think of dyin'?" The question came from out of no where.
"What?" Spike looked up from the patch of ground he was examining.
Applejack waited, reluctant to repeat herself. "Dying. What do think of it?"
"I don't think I know what you mean."
"It's just that," she shifted, "I been thinkin' 'bout what happens after ye' die. What do you think happens?"
"That seems like a bit of a cryptic subject for a fifteen year old boy."
"I doubt Twilight woulda' brought you if she didn' think you was mature enough for them things."
Spike nodded. "I guess you're right." He sipped the lingering amount of cider," I don't think about it."
"Now she nodded. "Why?"
"I don't want to be disappointed." He handed the mug back to her, "Thanks for the cider by the way, and uh, don't tell Twilight."
He left her, so as to attend to the orchards apples. She was now alone, leaning against the barrels, now edging on tears again. Sadness welling up inside her like an untreated tumor. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand in a futile attempt to stop her self from crying. As soon as her hand left her face a streak of red, raced down her face, and dripped off her cheek.
For dinner they were served a fine salad, prepared by the silent giant they had taken to calling Mac. Fluttershy appreciated it, probably the most, as she could feel like she was not imposing. Applejack sat still, just as the day before, barely eating. The sounds of fruit and vegetables being ground into a paste to swallow, seemed to echo all about the room. Spike's gaze wandered towards Twilight, who seemed to be in the trance she entered when she was studying. But the only thing to study was her food.
Knock, Knock, Knock!
All four of them practically jumped in their seats. Applejack was up in an instant, off to give some guest the the treatment they had received when they had arrived. Applejack braced her self against the door, in one hand clutching the brass knob, in the other the same flint lock pistol she had a few night past. Just as she was about to slam the door in to the head of the one behind the door, a young and innocent voice rang out.
"Applejack, are you home? Any body?"
Applejack would always no that voice. It was the voice of her only sibling. She opened the door, wide eyed, and fell to her knees when she saw the ten year old girl in front of her. Spike could now recognize her too. It was the same, red haired, overall wearing, bare foot girl, he was forced to sit next to on the train.
"What's wrong AJ? Aint you glad ta' see me?" She asked sadly.
Applejack looked up at her, and hugged her. "Y-yeah baby, I-ll always be glad to see you.
What no one saw, was Applejacks eyes. Behind the hug she shared with her sibling, the white transformed in to a crimson, as she began to tear up. Experiencing the first of many heart breaks to come.
Applejack could not sleep on this night. For several things weighed down on her mind. There was a trip to the Mycenaean's tomorrow. Those parasitic bastards. And tonight she lay next to her sister. Holding her close, trying not to let go. She didn't want her to ever live out of her reach again. Because she knew her time was limited. And if it meant the younger girls happiness, then she would succumb. She hugged the young girl as they slept, holding them close to her. Soft breath brushing across her forearm.
Tears rolled down her cheeks. She was unsure if it was blood or genuine tears. But it did not matter at the moment. All that mattered was that she was close to her sister. The soon to be last living member of her family. Applejack shut her eyes once again. She wanted sleep to find her. But it would be many hours of lying there, before she would lose her self in it. Just lying there, next to Applebloom. She tried to think of ways she could tell her sister, that she wouldn't be around for her anymore. To tell her "Don't look," when she finally dies. She held Applebloom tighter, trying to manage these thoughts. And finally, she dropped into sleep.
She dreamed she was in a field. One very cool, but warm, and embracing at the same time. She looked up. There was a tree above her. An apple tree. She took a single apple, one that seemed superior to its brothers. It felt weightless. She sat, leaning against the tree's trunk, and took a single bite from the apple. She smiled, and looked across the land. She didn't want to wake up. But you almost always wake up.
Twilight was reluctant to sleep. The true fear of the dream she had the other night was really just now, sinking in. When it finally wrapped around her she found her self in the same field she was in the night before leaving the ship. But in the distance she saw a hole in the ground. A large rectangular hole, horizontal to her position. She stepped forward, realizing she was nude as her foot glided across the green grass. Surprisingly she did not feel exposed. She walked closer, and closer. Until she regretted it.
In the hole were the rotting corpses of her companions, and that of Applejack. The buzz of flies over whelming. The stink of the bloated mass' of flesh, pungent and assaulting to the senses. She looked past Spike's body to the left, and found an empty spot. She closed her eyes. Full of fear, and disgust. Why was she having these nightmares? Was there something subconscious ripping her apart? There must be. She had never even thought of these things before but her dreams were full of it now. Why?
Her eyes opened again, and instead of the rotting bodies of her friends, she found the wooden ceiling. With a sigh of relief, she tossed her blanket aside. Looking at the window, she saw the light shining in and she was grateful. With a sigh she dressed her self, prepared for another day of work. She made her way down, surprised that she had not seen Applejack. She decided that she might as well rest before the day began, and sat on the couch. Dim light filling the room. She reflected on the dream she had just experienced. Maybe she should have brought a book on dreams.
Behind her she heard the heavy feet of the massive man who seemed to just lumber about. He took his place in the love seat to the right of the couch. His wide frame taking up the entirety of the seat, his face still in its wraps as always. Twilight decided it was best to entertain her mind somehow.
"So, um. What's your name? I've seen you around but I don't think I ever caught it."
His gaze shifted in her direction. His one visible eye holding her in view.
Twilight motioned for him to speak.
He did not.
"So you don't talk much, do you?"
"Don't talk ever." Applejack said, stepping off the final step of the stairs. Applebloom was at her side, rubbing her eye.
Twilight looked at her. "So, he's a mute?"
"Yep." she walked into the kitchen.
Twilight stopped a moment. Thinking, before she turned to face the towering man. "Ya' know I'm pretty good with magic, so I bet I could make a voice for you."
He said nothing.
"I'll take that as a no." She entered the kitchen.
"You want I should get started on the work?" Twilight asked raising her voice just enough for the other to hear.
"Yeah, but hold on. We're goin' ta' town today."
"Town?"
"Yes. Some of them folk are comin' for their apples, and we're headin' in with 'em."
"Oh, okay. May I ask why?" Twilight asked, excited to actually see the people she was going to be helping.
"Well, for one I like to take a break from the farm sometimes. For two they've asked to see ole Mac over there."
"That's great!"
"I guess. Their ox carts ought'a be here soon, so in a minute why don't ya'll use your magic ta' move some of them baskets out front."
"Sure, I'll hop to it," just as her hand touched the door leading outside, she stopped."Hey Applejack."
"Yeah?"
"I've got something else to ask you."
"Well spit it out, would ya' kindly."
"The man who sent us, real weird guy, he said that some of the mycenaean were helping you. That wasn't true was it?"
"Of course it aint."
"Sorry. I just needed some kind of confirmation. I mean, poor starving villager's wouldn't have ox carts."
"Yeah, that's 'cause they aint poor and starvin'. I shoulda' told ya'll this already, but I aint helpin' them 'cause I'm kind. At least I aint no more. They're some greedy bastards, I tell you."
"That's, a far cry from what we were told. I can't believe I didn't piece this together sooner. Are you sure they're okay? I mean-"
"Wait 'til you see them roll up in their carts. Then tell me who has the muddy end of the stick."
"I-I'm sorry, I was told they were suffering. Starving even."
Applejack, remained in the kitchen, probably preparing some sort of breakfast.
Twilight took her leave, ready for the chore at hand.
The cool morning air was crisp, filling her lungs. She stepped to the barn door, the eary windpump's creaking making her hurry along. Inside, the apples were stored. Each one in a large basket, towards the back. Each with basket holding a multitude of apples ranging from bright red's to deep yellow's. A purple mist covered them, as Twilight began her task. She stepped aside, letting the train of baskets move past her, as she delicately carted them out with her magic. When all of them had settled, they were in the shape of a large, half-circle. Placed as if to be a barrier when the mycenaean arrive.
As the last basket left her mist, an apple lingered. It floated towards her hand, and then into Twilights mouth for the first bite. Accompanying the crunch of the fruit being ground by her teeth, was the creak of the farm door. Out stepped Applejack, this time with out her young sibling.
"Breakfast is almost done. An' thanks for moving them apples."
"Hey, no need to thank me. I'm just doing what I came to do."
Twilight nodded, finishing her apple. She contemplated summoning Danial. But she decided to at least make contact with these people first. She remembered breakfast, and walked in prepared for more apples.
Spike woke being, politely shaken by Fluttershy, his eyes snapping open.
"Sorry, to um. To wake you, but it's time to get up." Fluttershy said, unsure.
"Yeah, no worries." He sat up, hair sticking everywhere.
Fluttershy stared at him.
"I'm getting up Fluttershy," he said, sternly.
"I-I know. Twilight just wanted me to make sure you got up."
"Well I am."
"I know."
"Well, move."
"Sorry." Fluttershy moved out of the room, closing the door. Seeming worried that she had offended Spike.
Spike sighed. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, and stood, stretching. He dressed himself, leaving off his jacket for the time being. His gun, he left in his bag, under his bed. He went down stairs hearing nothing but a low grinding noise. Yawning, he stepped into the dining room. And instantly regretted it.
The table was gone, and Mac sat in a chair squeezing Applebloom's hand, his huge fist getting covered in her blood, as the wet snaps of bone overcame the monotonous creaking of the farm house. She looked at him square in the eye, unblinking. Spike stepped back. Mac turned his head to face him. The giant stood up, and began to approach him. Spike felt for his gun forgetting he had left it upstairs, he tried to run, only to be jerked to the floor by Mac. He could see him, towering over himself like the day he arrived. He felt shaking. He closed his eyes, prepared for the end.
His eyes snapped open, and the sight of Fluttershy jerking back made him sigh in relief. It was only her.
"I-I'm sorry Spike, I ju-, Twilight wanted me to make sure you're up." Fluttershy said, almost thinking she would be yelled at.
Spike sat up, rubbing his eyes.
"Uh, breakfast is ready too. It looks real good, uh."
"Don't worry Fluttershy, I'm up."
"Oh, okay." She stood staring, her head down.
"Why are you still here?" Spike asked, voice growing with agitation.
"S-sorry, Twilight wants me to make sure you get up." She hid her face behind her hair.
"Well, I'm up." He swung his legs over the edge of the bed.
Fluttershy left, fearing she had been bothersome.
Spike stood, stretching himself, listening to the cracks of his joints. He dressed himself, leaving off his jacket. He reflected on the dream he had just had. He only remembered snippets, but what little he did terrified him. He felt it best to take it with him, and shoved it in his pocket. Hopefully his breakfast would not be so frightening, but you can never be to safe.
The breakfast was considerably dull. Applebloom would keep pestering Spike, forgetting to call him Spike, and instead 'Weseluck.' Applejack kept looking out the window, towards the baskets of apples outside, soon to be taken away by a group of brutes.
After breakfast, they simply lounged about. Applebloom sat in AJ's lap, her head resting in the crook her sisters neck. Spike, still wondering why they weren't in orchards, sat between Fluttershy, and Twilight on the couch. Twilight sat cross-legged, reading a book. Fluttershy sat as compacted as she could, hands intertwined. And Mac, was no where to be seen. It was so strange how a man his size, could just disappear without a trace.
They sat like this for a solid twenty minutes, nearly boring Spike to death, before a stir was heard outside. Twilight looked outside. Applejack rose quickly, setting Applebloom down in the recliner she had just vacated, and walked to the door, stopping once for a full glance out the window. She did not open the door, she instead pulled on her boots that were next to said door. "Ya'll best get ready," she said, not looking up.
Twilight joined Applejack,"Should we help them?" she asked, reffering to the men loading apples onto a cart.
"No." Applejack said simply, staring out the window.
The group found themselves being pulled in a cart, so slow they probably could have walked faster. Twilight was giddy, much to the drivers annoyance, as she asked him many questions ranging from his age, to his religion. Spike would have listened, if she wasn't speaking in the drivers language. Instead Spike looked the man over. Like the others in the two carts in front of them, he wore short, white robes occasionally covered by leather and bronze armor. They were tan, not as dark as Twilight, but tan. Their hair was long and black, though braided as if to mimic a diadem.
His gaze shifted to the trees. They all stood tall, straight, and jutting up into the sky. They almost seemed to stare back at him. He felt a chill run across his spine. They sway, almost human like, and their branches seemed to curve down, as if to pluck him from the cart.
Satisfied, or perhaps too frightened to continue his study of them, he looked away from the trees, and back at the driver, before settling on Applejack. "Do these guys speak our language?" He asked her.
She looked up to him, "Some do. I don't think this'n does."
He nodded, and settled in for a ride like he always does. With sleep.
Fluttershy prodded Spike awake. He slowly opened his eyes, emerging from sleep so deep he felt as if he had died, and come back to life. All he remembered was a low hum. As soon as she saw the first glimmer of his emerald eyes, she stepped down from the cart. She looked up again, seeing the "town," as Applejack had put it. This town, was no town, this was a city. A city in a canyon, its building seeming to have been etched from the landscape.
Fluttershy looked in awe, as did Twilight. They had not yet stepped into the city, as their cart had been stopped while the others went ahead. They lingered in a bizzare, apparently having emerged from the forest to a much sandier, and noisy place. All around them people walked from stall, to stall, going about their business.
"Here's town," Applejack said.
"Y-you mean t-that," Twilght stammered.
"No we aint allowed there. This is were I buy things, and this is where them fellas that wanted to meet big Mac, are gonna meet us." She said, reffering to the silent hulk behind her.
Spike stepped down, rubbing his eyes. "Where are we, exactly?"
"'Bout four hours from the farm."
He sighed, leaving an unimpressed look on his face, until his eyes bulged as they met where the yonder cliff split, revealing its city inside. "Is that town?" He asked.
"Darn it, no! This is town."
"Sorry," Spike replied, shocked at having been scolded.
Applejack helped Applebloom out of the cart, just as Spike stepped away.
"D-do you mind if we split up? I mean, I'd love to get a chance to study these peoples culture." Twilght spoke up, having been muffled by another conversation.
"I guess that'd be fine, long as yer back 'fore the sun hits the horizon. And just remember, that I called these folks bastards for a reason."
Twilight almost squeaked with excitement as she hurried off into the mass of people, leaving the rest behind her.
Spike and Fluttershy decided to leave too, though sticking together. It didn't matter one way or another to him. He hated people. And people were everywhere. One of them just so happened to be sticking by him, like a lost puppy.
The two wandered, only sometimes stopping to browse at stalls. Most of them sold something animal related, so naturally Fluttershy avoided those. But one thing caught the attention of both. In the distance, about thirty yards or so, there were large logs, jutting from the sand. They were aligned in the formation of a circle, and as the two gravitated closer, they realized they were spaced. Getting closer they saw a cart backed up to the only opening. This cart was like their own, only it had a built in cage. In the cage were three men, each in rags.
Spike and Fluttershy were mere feet from the logs, and found that a crowd was forming around it. Spike looked in through the spaces between the logs. He saw a lone woman. Her skin, far paler than anyone else's in this place. Her hair, a swirl of colors. She sit in the middle, clothed only in simple rags, as did the men in the cage.
A man stood on a box, shouting in his native tongue. People now flocked to what the two foreigners realized was an arena. Many produced pouches of coin, while others scowled and walked away. Fluttershy wanted to leave. But Spike was purely interested in seeing what was about to unfold.
The man shouted across the arena, to the cart. He smiled. The gate on the back dropped. The three men rushed out, as spears were thrust in to the cage. The man shouted at them. Spike could see fear on their faces.
The woman stood up, and looked at the man, as best she could through the logs. She yelled in a language Spike still could not understand, but could tell that neither could the people around him. The man laughed. He gave a final yell, and the woman turned around. Spike saw that she had wings, but they were bound to her back with leather, and some light chains.
The most bold of the men swung at her, she stepped out of the way, slamming the palm of her hand into his throat. Just as he hit the ground, another came up from behind and grabbed her. She flailed about, as the third man approached. She kicked him in the stomach, when he was close enough. This apparently surprised the man holding her, as he let loose enough for her to escape, and send an elbow to his face. And then another. And then, one last time, before grabbing him by the neck, and flinging him into the other man, doubled over in pain. They both went to the ground.
The first man she had struck was at his feet again, but soon fell again, as the woman kicked his knee. Spike cringed. The man howled in agony. He clutched his useless leg, screaming. He rolled over on his side. The woman walked over to where he laid his head. She put her foot on his neck. Rags that had once served as footwear, hung from her ankles. She applied pressure. Then more. Spike could here the pop from where he stood, almost twenty feet away.
Fluttershy grabbed Spikes shoulder. He turned, to face her. "I think we should go," she said, as firmly as she could. Tears fell from her eyes, her body trembling.
He looked back back to the arena, and past the logs. He saw nothing but brutality. He looked back to Fluttershy. "Yeah, lets go." He masked his uneasiness, as they slowly, fled the scene.
Two men walked, their robes mocking the common cloth that those around them dressed themselves in. They saw a man, he was obviously not from around here, as his height greatly surpassed anyone else's. Yes. This was who they were after. They approached, finding him to be sitting on the back of a cart. Next to him stood a woman, and little girl, exchanging words, and smiles.
The younger man walked up to her, "Excuse me, you Applejack?" His accent still clinging to his native tongue.
She looked at him, her smile faded, "Yeah."
"Excellent! Come with us, and bring you brute."
Reluctantly, she complied, bringing the behemoth of a man, and her sister. They walked, for about thirty minutes, through crowds of mostly bearded men, all rushing to different places, all very frightening to the little girl. She squeezed her sister hand as tight as she could, fearing she would abducted if she let go. She whispered into her ear, " baby, don't say nothing in there okay? Theses are bad men."
Applebloom quickly nodded her head.
The two men led the three into a small adobe building, inside was only a desk, and several chairs. The older of the two sat on the far side, the younger stood off to the side.
"Sit," he said, gruffly.
The three did.
The man sat awkwardly, both hands at his sides. "Minotaurs. Do you know what they are?"
"Um, aint it a bull?"
"Half man, half bull."
"Right."
"That man, he could kill one." He reffered to Mac.
"Uh, I s'pose. Why?"
"There is a island in the lake past the canyon, and in that island is a tower. In that tower is a minotaur. Reward goes to anyone who kills it."
"What did this minitaur do?"
"Nothing."
"Then I don't think he'll wan to-"
"We will be keeping the reward, but will stop harassing you for apples."
Applejack swallowed.
Big Mac looked up from the piece of floor he had been examining.
The old man cleared his throat, "The minotaur has killed all people that have come after it. But none of them have been anything like your friend. Do you agree?"
Applejack looked at Big Mac.
Big Mac slowly turned his head to meet her eyes, and nodded.
Applejack turned back to the man across the desk, "Yeah, he agrees."
"Good. Prepare yourselves. At this time next week we will be taking to the island." He extended his arm across the desk, its palm waiting for Applejack to grasp it, and shake.
"We still aint on friendly terms, you know."
He withdrew his arm, "Yes, but civility is paramount."
The two foreigners and Big Mac rose, and they left. Once they were out of earshot, and deep into the crowd Applejack finally spoke again. "That man is fuckin' slime," she said in only beneath her breath.
"Who was they?" Applebloom asked.
"They was bad men, that do bad stuff."
"Like what?"
"All kinds of things. Don't you ever talk to 'em sissy, aint nothin' they say will do any good for you."
Applebloom only nodded. She looked around her, noticing all these people looked like those men to her.
Twilight was beside her self. She was overjoyed with the amount of activity around her, studying everything. The different dialects, and merchandise being sold at each stall. The different scents that permiated the air. She smiled, sure she stuck out some what, but she had seen others here, that dressed like equestrians.
Still though, her mind lingered on that she had basically been lied to by Danial. These people got along fine on their own. She could only find content, in the fact that Applejack did indeed need help. But she had been told that she would be helping natives. They still needed help though, she supposed.
She had been through the bizzare, and found herself somewhere filled with performers, knife jugglers, magic performances, and anything in between. She found herself staring in awe at one person in particular. Partly because of how out of place her clothing seemed, and the rest because of the amount, and speed of the blades she juggled.
Instead of the mundane robes that everyone else wore, she was wrapped in a single, long, black scarf that reminded her of Mac. It covered mostly all of her body, save for the ends and heels of her feet, and fingers, which were bare, and the occasional strip of exposed flesh, her eyes, and the top of her head. Her head was crowned with vibrant, pink, completely straight, hair. Twilight almost felt a twinge of melancholy just from looking at her.
Twilght looked at the spinning, and twirling blades. One was a spatha. The other was a makhaira. The pink headed woman quickly stepped through her circle, maintaining the blades cycle, as people around her clapped. Many dropped some kind of currency in a wicker basket a few feet away. Twilight took notice. She wished she could some kind of payment, but alas the only money on her person was likely useless to "tribals." Regardless, however, she felt she needed to give something.
From the pocket of her faded, brown pants Twilight withdrew a bit. Compared to the coins the locals were slinging about, it was, aesthetically, crafted by gods. It was golden, one hundred piece bit. Stamped with a sun on the surface, and a diamond in the center. When near light, it appeared as if an actual sun was shining. Or rather reflecting.
She looked back up to the performer, she was balancing the makhaira on the tip of the spatha. A true feat. Twilight looked back down at the basket, she dropped her coin. It made a noise distinct from the others dropped in the basket. And apparently, the woman had noticed.
The pink haired one caught the makhaira, as it fell. She dropped it in the sand, and with her now free arm she reached up to her face, and pulled the bit of cloth covering her mouth down. Her face was almost child like.
"You're Equestrian?" She asked.
"Yes." Twilight responded, almost surprised to here her native language.
"I haven't seen some one from back home in super, long time." She flashed a segment of a smile, picked up her fallen sword, and continued her show.
Twilight didn't know what to think. She smiled back at the woman, now fully focused on her blades, and carried on. The sun had almost found its place to hide behind for the night, and there was so much more she wanted to see.
The sun had long since fled the view of Arcadia, and with that the group of travelers were being escorted home, by the same man who had brought them, in the same ox cart that had pulled them. All around them was darkness, and with darkness came the fear of the unseen, and with fear came a frightened Fluttershy. She hid it well, but Twilight knew her too well for her to hide anything of that nature from her. Twilight had contemplated using the words Danial had given her, but after a discussion with Applejack, decided against such a plan. Besides. Applejack was a person. And her job was to help people. Nothing as meager as a persons background would stop Twilight from coming to a persons aid.
The farm was finally in view, and Spike woke from his slumber, having dreamed of nothing but a low hum, same as before. Applejack paid the driver, paid him something no one saw, and they all made way for the house. The driver turned back. Had he not worked for the soulless men who practically controlled her, Applejack would have invited him to stay. But he did work for them, and she almost hoped one of the creatures that dwelled within the forest would drag him into it, kicking and screaming. But she didn't have enough time left to fill her head with such hateful thoughts. She tried to keep them as pure as she could.
Everyone entered the house, giving each other a simple "goodnight," and raced off to their respective beds. Save for Mac who, as expected, disappeared. Spike was the first to nod off. He dreamed of the rainbow haired slave. Dreamed it was he that she was beating. And then, a nervous Fluttershy saved him fro his nightmare.
He rolled over, blinking several times. Fluttershy stood there, holding a pillow. She looked alone, and afraid.
"I-I'm so sorry, Spike, but, I just," she swallowed, "After seeing that place today, I'm scared, an-"
"Scared of what?" Spike interrupted.
"I-I don't know. It's just, seeing those poor people forced to kill each other, an' all of that, I j-just can't sleep."
"What'd ya' want me to do about it?" he rubbed his eyes.
"I-I was hoping, maybe I c-could sleep with you." She looked down at her feet.
"Really?"
"She nodded."
"I'm barely fifteen. How would I protect you?"
"I just want to feel safe."
Spike almost turned her away, but decided against that. A sad Fluttershy would make even his heart ache. "What ever, get in." He raised the sheets, allowing her to slip in.
She did, soundlessly.
Spike turned his body, facing the wall. He felt Fluttershy, huddled against his back. Then her arm drape over his shoulder. Her soft breath caressing his neck. He wanted to wake her, but he remembered how adorable she looked when she slept. He didn't want to ruin that masterpeice. He laid there, slowly slipping into a blissful sleep with Fluttershy.
A shadow roamed a large wooden cages perimeter, stalking, and waiting. Inside the pen were several broken people. People forced to do things no one should have to do. Bloodied and battered. Hardly more than corpses. She scanned, spotting a man acting as a guard. His face was covered my a menacing bronze helmet, and his right hand he held a spear, and covering his other arm was a crimson cloak. The end of the spear was coated in blood, as red as the cape.
He stood next to the only entrance, stoically. The shadow stared at him, but he did not see her. She was behind him, now climbing the cage to the top. When she got there, she balanced her self, only briefly she stood erect with the moon behind her, then stroad to the edge where she looked down, and saw the man, still and unmoving like a statue. She stood up, full height again, ends of the wraps the covered her body billowing in the wind, along with her straight pink hair.
She withdrew from a sheath on her back, a straight spatha style sword. She lowered herself off the edge, hanging from the ledge. She readied herself. And she dropped herself, the sword piercing straight through his neck. Even as he went down, he remained stoic, unmoving. No scream, only a silent gurgle.
With deft hands she picked up the spear, jammed it between the door and the rest of the cage, applied leverage, and that was it. The door broke off, a loud snap waking the sleeping enslaved seeking respite on their old, bloody mats. They saw the woman enter, they backed away, until they saw that she was not here to injure them, or their pride any further. They scurried away, through the open gate, splitting around the shadow and close to the cage walls, on the final doubt that she would harm them.
The shadow looked around. There was no one in here anymore. Not the person she searched for. Not the person who had left her alone in Equestria to go on military escapades in far away distant lands. No. Not the reason she threw away everything in her life to find. No one was here. She sank to her knees. So sad. Tears ripped themselves from her eyes, drawing streaks in the sand that covered her face. She weep. Only weep. Sad and pathetic. A shadow of her former self A shadow with out the one she sought.
Applejack sat on the edge of her bed, her sister lay covered mere feet away. She held her head, elbows resting on her knees. Pathetically sobbing. She wiped a tear away, the first to free its self from her eyes. Faintly she could tell it to be red, thought there was no light by which she could tell. She shook her head. More tears fell. She knew it to be futile to wipe them away.
She felt her shirt tugged. She turned, "Yeah, sweetie?"
"Are you okay?" Applebloom said, her voice in a concerned tone.
Applejacks heart skipped a beat, "Y-yeah. Baby what makes you think I wasn't?" Applejack hoped she could not see the blood dripping from her eyes.
"You been acting weird is all. And you suppose to be asleep too."
"Don't worry baby, I-I'm okay." Iit hurt her to lie to her sibling.
Applebloom reached her small arms around the other, hoping to hug.
Applejack complied to her unspoken request. She hugged her tightly, holding tighter to the tears that wanted to come out. She laid the little girl down, breaking away from the embrace. "I gotta go ta' the out house, you go to sleep now."
"O-okay, Applejack. I love you." She squeezed her sister a little tighter before letting go.
"I love you too, Appleboom."
"Ya' will always?"
"Always."
"You'll never leave?"
Applejack opened her mouth, but no words came out. She stayed like that until forcing out, "N-never, not in a m-million years." She hugged her sister once more before leaving the room.
Outside her room, the farmer slid down her door, weeping the entire way. She felt like the weakest person in existence. She wished she could find the strength to tell her sister she was going to die soon, but she could not. That would be a luxury, and in these troubled times it would be foolish to ask for luxuries.
For Spike the week went by as normal as one could ask, save for Fluttershy sleeping in his bed. Better, when you consider his lack of nightmares. Wake up, eat, work, try to avoid an awkward conversation, (which means he usually spent a lot of time around Mac) eat dinner, wash up,go to bed, and repeat. It was a simple life. He couldn't stand it. How could anyone? Back in Equestria he worked, and lived, in a library with Twilight, but even that seemed to outshine this. At least there he could go to Canterlot, and enjoy himself when he willed.
He enacted the first part of his daily schedule, trying to rub his eyes with his arm, only to find it pinned beneath Fluttershy. He slid his hand out from under her, feeling dirty knowing he had held her like that. He rubbed the sleep away, then nudged Fluttershy. She woke up, repeating the same actions Spike had just been through. She looked over to him. He motioned, curtly, with his hands to get up. She did so quickly.
They dressed themselves. Spike walked to the window. He was surprised to find that the sun was higher above, than on usual days. He brushed this off. If Applejack wasn't in a rush, than neither was he. He looked at Fluttershy, she was buttoning the last button that she would on her shirt. She approached him. She reached a hand up to his face, then higher to his hair. She pulled back single, yellow, feather. He looked at it, she smiled. She pushed it into his chest, lightly. He took it, and she turned. Spike examined it. He shrugged, and put it in his jacket pocket.
Down stairs they were met with Applejack. She smiled. She rarely did so lately. "We're goin' ta' town ta' drop off the apples again. Ya'll can stay or go, which ever ye like."
Fluttershy, bit her lip. Her decision would be the same as Spikes, and she hoped that he would stay.
"Yeah, don't worry. I'm goin' with." Spike said.
"An' you?" Applejack asked, now facing Fluttershy.
"Y-yeah, I'll go too." Fluttershy's words were fleeting.
Applejack nodded, and turned back to Twilight who was making vain attempts to speak with the giant.
Fluttershy wanted so badly to stay. The first time she went to "town," she was fearful that she wouldn't come back. She wasn't sure if she could manage going a second time.
Spike on the other hand was glad to be leaving the house again, despite only going to a bazaar. A bazaar full of less than reputable people. He glanced at Fluttershy. She obviously didn't want to go. Not my problem, he reasoned.
Their journey was much the same as last. The occasional, mindless, banter, and Spike taking his coma like nap. He dreamed just like the last time as well. And just like last time he could only recall fragments, the most prominent of which being purple haired woman, bathing in a stream.
Twilight noticed how dearly Applebloom clung to Applejack. As if she were fearful of losing her beloved sister. The older one slowly stroked the youngers hair. She seemed distant, in another world almost. Like if she were to die here, she would remain elsewhere. Like mind and body had been parted. Funny. Twilight knew a spell for that.
She looked at Fluttershy. She was doing her usual Fluttershy thing. Looking off into the nature, humming to herself not too loudly, for fear of bothering someone. Finally, her eyes settled in the book she had brought, hoping to read. She had been reluctant to open a book for the first time in her life. And she had no idea why.
Upon their arrival, they did not leave each other as they did last time, for they hadn't the opportunity. Two men awaited them. The same two that had last contacted Applejack.
"These three, not with you when you were last here."
"Yeah, they were. We jus' seperated for a spell." Applejack said, annoyed, "and I aint lettin' my sister go, jus' so we're clear."
"What? We have promised three would come." He glanced at the young girl, "We need three to come."
Applejack simply shrugged.
"What of those three, can one not come?" The younger man suggested.
"If one wants ta'."
"Well ask them, find out."
Applejack turned to face the three in question. None answered. She was about to turn back to the native, when Spike opened his mouth to speak. "Yeah, I'll go."
Twilight mouthed something in his direction.
He nodded, an annoyed look on his face.
Fluttershy was surprised. And now, slightly afraid. The one person she felt could protect her, was leaving. Probably not too long, but he was leaving.
"Alright, you got three." Applejack spoke again, "Now when are we comin' back?"
"We will discuss that upon our arrival at-"
"When?" The blonde interrupted.
"You will be gone more than a week, but I assure you-"
"You never said-"
"And I never will, if you do not stop interrupting me." The man cleared his throat, "As I was saying, I assure you it will be beneficial to do as we ask. Because if you do, we will no longer expect apples from you. However, if you refuse, you and you friends will be wiped from Gaia. I would see to that, personally."
"Fuck you," the words came involuntarily, from the womans mouth.
"Yes, well, are you coming or not? I don't really care for your disposition towards me."
"I don't really have an option."
"No, you don't." The man smirked.
"Well, can you give me a minute?"
"Yes. But be fleet, we need go soon."
The blonde turned back to the three who came from afar, Twilight and Spike bickered, Fluttershy stood awkwardly. She took Appleblooms hand in her own, and approached.
"T-twilight, can you watch 'Bloom?"
Twilght looked away from Spike, "Yeah, why?"
"Because, I don't trust them bastards with her. An' I need ye to watch after the orachord too. Can ya' manage?"
"Yes, and just so you know, I don't exactly trust them with Spike."
"Don't think I do. They are scum."
"Why can't I go? You said you wouldn't leave me." Applebloom inserted herself into the conversation.
Applejack kneeled to face her, "Sugar, I gotta go. Those are bad people. If I don' go, they'll hurt us. Bad." Her eyes stung from the tears forming.
Applebloom hugged her sister. Why did she have to go?
Applejack hugged back, "I'm sorry sugar. I'm so sorry."
An hour passes, and time slowly shifts. Twilight, Fluttershy, and Applebloom walked through the bazaar, looking at the various things sold. Some was food, some was odd trinkets. And on the seedier side, you could of course purchase other people. It seemed that in this place, you could buy anything.
The three walked past a cage atop a cart, inside lay corpse of a little girl, no older than the one in Twilights care. A man clutched her body, weeping for his lost. The only ones that stopped for them laughed. Something deep, and monstrous compelled them to laugh. Something that made some small part of Twilight die. She held her hand in front of Appleblooms face, while Fluttershy avoided looking at the seen. She wished to pretend it did not happen.
Walking, and walking. They left that part of the bazaar. They felt dirty when they did. Off in the far distance they saw a formation. Logs jutting from the earth. They began to approach, when Fluttershy stopped them. She looked Twilight in her eyes, and simply shook her head. They went in another direction. They avoided that sight entirely.
Inside of the arena, slaves were pitted against each other. Or more realistically, forced to die by the hands of one that had rose above the rest. One that wanted so very much to be free again. One that would die happy, if she died free.
A bearded, tall man shouted words to the crowd. They bet all their money for hopes of easy splendor. Most who bet on the Rainbow haired girl, would find it. But that's not what one searched for. She searched for the girl in the arens, the one who was forced to kill others, for the sake of her own. She brushed her long, pink hair out of her eyes, and sat legs crossed, eyes glued to the fighting.
A slave stood before the young fighter. He raised his arm to strike. He swung. He missed. He felt a fist plunge into his side, leave, and then come back. He stepped away, but tripped on a foot, not his own. He looked up. He saw a bare heel, headed for his face. He rolled out of the way, then slammed his elbow in to his adversaries knee. They fell, but their other knee landed on the mans stomach.
The woman grabbed the others throat. She pushed her thumb into it, blood began to climb out of him. She began listened to his last pleas. She slammed her free arm into his face, repeatedly, until he was gone. Until he had breathed the last breath he ever would.
She fell back, off of his body. She breathed a sigh of relief, looking up, eyes closed. Those around her cheered. She chose to ignore them. She could not bear to listen to them. A man begins shouting. From his voice, it's something the people would want ot here. She did not.
The pink haired woman listened intently. She knew his language. She also knew this man was a blight to humanity. But he possessed information, she needed. What he said roughly translated to " They will be facing one of their own in the arena of the fallen. Be sure to save your money, it will truly be a spectacle."
The Pink haired woman grew ecstatic. She knew she could free the woman now. But not alone. She rushed off, as silent as the shadow of a ghost.
Spike walked through the narrow streets, keeping pace with the four other people. This place was different, yet so similar to the bazaar. It was noisy, yes, but the only shops were decorative, and built into the reddish-brown wall of the canyon. What they sold was finer than anything he had seen back in the desert town as well. They sold silks, and leathers. Blades and even a few guns.
The streets were held with neat, stone slabs that seemed to fit so perfectly with one another. The people who trekked these streets were much the same as those of the bazaar. They were probably the same people. There were no trees save a few, and those grew out of the side of the canyon.
Spike looked deeper into the canyon, he could see were it would seem that a river started. Farther than that there was, what looked like, a massive castle. It reminded him of Canterlot. He assumed, that was where they were headed. On either side, he saw where building were built on top of each other. They seemed to be slums, but they were no less interesting. He looked at Applejack, she was still angry, yes, but she could not hide her interest in the city.
Mac, however, kept his solemn demeanor. Silent, as always. People looked up at him, half in wonder, half in fear. But who could blame them? He was twice as tall as the normal man, and his muscles, though not distinct, pulled his reddish overcoat close to him. The fact that his face was covered mostly in wraps didn't help much either. Especially since his only visible eye held such malice. But he could not help it. He had been stared at all his life, even among his native people in Atlas he was tall. He strode on, staying right beside Applejack. In her, he saw something delicate. Something worth protecting.
As the group walked, the buildings showed more, and more craftsmanship. Now they looked as if they were pure works of art, and the people looked as if they were wearing art. The edge they were walking on came to a turn, and they stopped, as if to show off the grandeur of the city. The river, and canyon split off into separate path ways. The river itself went in to three directions, from here. The separate branches were only half as wide as the main one, but that had not stopped them from building next to them either.
Above the main river, Spike found that the palace was no where near as large as it seemed from a distance, but was in no way less amazing. It was built upon a natural arch made of rock, and that had held this castle for many years, and would do so for many years to come.
On the far side, to his left, Spike could see an elegant building built at the end of a small nook that led from one wall, to the other. Before that, he saw what looked like cages with people inside them. There was no doubt what that building was for.
The old man pointed at the palace, his finger wrinkled with age. "That, is where we're going. You'll be appraised, and assigned to your tasks."
Applejack turned her head to him, "What'dya mean appraised?"
"I mean," her turned to look her in the eye,"we will decide how much we value you all. You specifically. "
"Why me?"
"We've already some plans on what to do with each of you, but we need approval."
"Ho-"
"That's all," He put his hand up. "I'm going to tell you."
Applejack glared at him.
The group took the only option given, and went down the steps to their right, and across the bridge to their left at the bottom. All the way across, Spike peered down the river, past the many boats, and ships at the many docks. It led to, what seemed to be, an ocean, or at least some other large body of water. The sun gleamed off of it, reminding him of the time he spent on the boat over. On the far side, there were mountains. Tall, and far. So far that anyone with lesser vision would not have noticed them. Then he realized, just how hot he hadn't realized it was in the desert, canyon or not. He rolled up the sleeves of his jacket, as quickly as he might. Then, he looked over to Mac, eyeing his coat. How could he stand that thing?
After the bridge, they made their way up a stair-case that clung to the canyon wall and bent at the squared off turn, just as the canyon did where two walls met. No one else dared this stair way. It led to the palace, and felt too precarious for anything resembling comfort. Fittingly, each step looked less, and less worn. As if the wealth of those living in the palace radiated outward. Until they were within thirty yards of a narrow cave there was no guard to prevent a fall. And when there was one, it seemed to only be there for its aesthetic looks.
Inside the cave, it felt narrow and constricting, but safe. In many ways, just like being the servant to nobility. Spike felt safe, knowing he would be protected, but felt restrained at the same time. At night this cave would have been completely black, but night was yet to cover the land, and Celestia's grace shined in from the far end. Spike thought he heard Mac mutter something about the cave's height, but dismissed that, and with in a moment, he was blocking his eyes from light they had been deprived of.
Spike looked around. To his left was the palace, and everywhere else there was nothing, save for the rise in earth behind them that contained an opening from which they had just exited. They were at the top of the canyons cliffs, but they felt as low as they could. The two men stood, and looked them over, before turning and making their way to the palace's gates. On either side stood men, holding spears, whose armor was as flawless as the unseen statue's they seemed to mimic. While Spike eyed the sightless landscape around, Applejack looked up to the castle in front of her. Never had she seen something so spectacular.
The wall that separated them was tall, and beautifully crafted of stone that fit together like a puzzle. The gate that lie between the two guards looked golden, and behind that was a path that cut through the only grass in miles. The path, a long stone tiled path, led to a set of double doors. The handles were as gold as the gates, and glinted in the sun. Looking higher, Jack saw the towers of the palace spiking at no particular height. They all seemed to be as random as mountains pushed up from the earth. The ends of the towers were tapered, and ended with no point, but metal balls, save for the tallest of them that ended with crescent of sorts. One would guess that they were gold. She traced the towers down, until her eyes met with the building itself again. Arches connected the palace to the walls that disappeared on their way around the building. These arches held blue shingles that overlapped one another above them. Under the arches were nothing but shadow, a bastion in the heat of the sun.
The older of the two men stepped to the guard to his left. In their native tongue, they spoke. "These are they, the ones who will be contracted," the old man said, plainly.
The guard, a man still in his twenties, nodded. He took his spear, on the end there was some intricate metal work, and placed it in a hole no one knew of but him. The other guard did as the previous, and as if like a practiced skill they turned their spears. The gate creaked open, noisy and scathing to the ear. It sounded like something closer to an abandoned manor's gate, rather than one of such regal owners as those of a palace. Carefully, the party stepped in to the courtyard. Mac kept his head low, and Spike lingered behind just now taking in the palace.
Applejack stayed wary. There was a dreadful silence after the gate had opened. She half expected something to burst from the door. Nothing did, though. Instead, she and the rest of them strode to the tall, daunting doors. She had not heard the gate creak as it closed, but she did hear the clash when they shut, and it made her jump. After that clash, however, that silence resumed its omnipotent hold. The grass on either side seemed out of place, as outside the walls there was nothing but sand, and heat. How could it be alive?
She kept her eyes fixated on the doors. It was some metal. It looked bronze, with long, gold handles. Rectangles rose from the surface of both doors, leaving a few meager inches between them. Take away the doors, and there would be a decorative, circular, arch, longing for their return. This arch was made of stone, and crafted to look as if it were woven to the door.
As they reached one of the doors, the older man reached his hand towards it. He grasped the long handle,and he pulled. Slowly it moved, but only silently. The kind of silence that drove people mad.
Glancing at her comrades, Applejack put a finger in her ear to check for any obstructions. The metal door opening as she did so. Silently the door opened, and silently they walked in. Somehow the foyer in which they walked in to did no seem as silent, but was definitely. On each flank there were marble pillars, connecting the gleaming, brown, floor to the dull, gray, ceiling.
They did not stop to gawk at these works of art, however, they simply walked along them. Though it was impossible to miss the amount of shadow, so much that a person among them might seem to be one. To be seen as a shadow. The only light was a thin window that cut through the ceiling. It let in only the slightest bit of light, illuminating the way in which they walked. At the far end was a cedar door as elegant as the one they had just stepped through, and past that was the only thing letting them know they weren't def.
Only a few feet from the door, and the noise behind it was that of laughter, and partying. Hedonism, and vice. Just before them an orange rip in the floor opened, and a guard identical to the one outside sped up from it. He looked down at them all, and up at Mac, barking orders. The old man raised his hand. In his own language he spoke loudly, loud enough for anyone in this foyer to hear.
"Young fool, let us pass." He said, tiredly.
"Who are they?" He asked, angered.
"These are the commissioned. Don't tell me no one said they were coming."
"The apple farmers? The ones you steal from? Where is the little gentile girl? They said she would be set ablaze before the next tournament."
"They decided they did not want the pest to come with them. No matter, I'm planning on pitting the blonde one against that slave girl from the mountains instead."
The guard relaxed, "She will surely die."
"That is why we're betting on her opponent."
"Oh, I see." He smiled, knowingly. "Carry on." He turned and walked through an orange split in the door, that closed as soon as he went through.
This display, had greatly startled Spike, and Applejack. They glanced at each other. Worried expressions on both their faces.
"Uh, ya'll wanna tell us what that was about?" Applejack asked, slightly concerned.
The old man's younger partner answered, chuckling from the conversation he had just heard, "No, we don't."
The woman looked at him, frowning. She shook her head muttering something. They opened the door, and stepped through it. Torch light everywhere, people in the throes of a celebration of sorts.
This ride was all too frightening, and all too worrying. The moon peeked over the far eastern trees and Applebloom wept, providing the only sound beyond the winds gentle rustling of the distant leaves. Fluttershy held Applebloom's hand and tried to assure the girl that things would be alright.
"I-It's okay, girl, A-Applejack's a tough lady." These words did nothing. Twilight refused that thought. She was deeply worried for her friends lives, and she was sure Fluttershy worried too.
Applejack had said nothing of the farm before her leave, so Twilight could only assume that she was to carry on with the apple picking. It shouldn't be too hard though, she was quite adept in the use of magic. That did not worry her. What worried her was if Applejack, and more so Spike would be okay. She thought of Danial. That liar. He couldn't have been unaware of this situation when he left them at the farm. And now, Twilight was obliged to see to it that these farmer's problems were resolved, or die trying to. And it would probably be the later of the two.
They were rather deep in the forest now, but not so deep that they would be home soon. It would likely be midnight before they would arrive. In this particular space among the trees there was a clearing. On either side were fields of grass that travelers looked down at as they walked and rode on the path. She thought she had seen someone give their carriage driver a note before they started their journey to the farm. That was ever so worrying in its self. She did not trust these people, not after what she had seen. She fought her instinct, insisting in the good of people, but she could see none in these people.
In one second, all went quiet. The little girl's sobbing hushed, ending Fluttershy's attempts at comforting the child. The hooves of the ox stood in its prints, ceasing the roll of the carts wheels. The wind stopped the leaves from rustling, lulling the tree's to into a restful absence of noise. Twilight looked around, this moment of nothing felt off. Fluttershy glanced over her shoulder. Applebloom looked up. The trap was set.
From beyond Twilight's side of the cart, three men, all wearing mycenaen tunics and armor, sprang from fissures in the earth, unseen at night. Spears were at the ready. The women shrieked, as the the driver jumped down from his place and moved behind the ambushers. One of the men dropped his spear, and drew a sword, approaching the women. His comrades at his side. He grabbed Applebloom by the foot, and dragged her out of the carriage, kicking and screaming. If there wasn't the tip of a spear pressed against her throat, Fluttershy would have tried something. All she could do was cry.
Twilight didn't know what to do. She was a pacifist, as was Fluttershy, but this was in every way different. She watched as one of the men grabbed Fluttershy by her hair, pulling her from the cart even more violently than Applebloom. No,there was time for any exception to be made, and now was the time. She raised her hand, a fine, purple, aura enveloped it, she knew what need be done, and she-
The unbladed end of a spear smashed into her nose, breaking it on contact. She threw her head back in pain, mumbling obscenities. Another, thick, crack to the side of the head and she was out. Unable to protect the other two. One of the men grabbed her unconscious body, and dragged her away.
Fluttershy walked, eyes full of tears. If she slowed down the jab of a spear in between her wings would drive her on. The one with the sword simply dragged Applebloom by the hair of her head. She screamed, but it did nothing. The man had a face that looked like that chiseled from stone, as did his companions. Finally, the last kidnapper carried Twilight, aided by the carriage driver. One at her shoulders, the other at her feet.
To Fluttershy, her sight deceive no matter how much she begged that it did. She could faintly see in the light of the moon three graves, about three feet deep. She stopped right in front of the right most. The moon gave aclear view of everything now, washing them in its glow.
She turned around, facing the man, "P-p-please, d-don't," she sobbed. She knew her plea to be in vain.
He said nothing, only raising his spear and pressing the tip into Fluttershy's neck.
Fluttershy slowly got on her knees. A man approached the grave to her right, holding Applebloom by the straps of her overall's. He harshly tossed the poor, screaming, girl in. Fluttershy cringed. "I-I'll do anything, p-please," more attempts to save herself. She had held her bladder tightly, but she could not any longer. It emptied into her pants. She ignored it, still pleading for her life. She cried and whimpered pathetically.
The man said something in his own language.
The sound of Twilight being dropped in to her grave was accompanied by a single from the kidnapper who dropped her.
The three of them exchanged words.
Fluttershy felt like she was in some purgatory. A blade pressed to her throat, and a portal somewhere else behind her. It was only after these thoughts when she realized Appleblooms crying had ceased. Her eyes opened wide from their closed state, No, she thought. The fall. The carelessness of the man handling her.
She cried more, now. She felt horrible. Pathetic, like she could have done something to stop this. Then she felt pathetic for crying. She always cried. She didn't know when it was appropriate, she couldn't help it.
One of them dropped into Twilight's grave and raised his spear high. He looked to the one holding a spear to Fluttershy's throat. He said something she could not even begin comprehend. The man in front of her gripped his spear tighter. It was over, she knew it. She closed her eyes, as the third stepped in to the hole with Applebloom inside. She waited.
A cloud covered the moon, casting shadow on them all, stealing away what bit of light they had and giving them the shrouds of pure night. Fluttershy felt the tip leave the front of her neck, as she braced herself for the pain. There was no pain, nor a drop of blood. She heard a twirl of blades, and the crack of bones, and split of limbs. The gurgled, masculine, shrieks of her captors. She opened her eyes, but the she couldn't tell if she had or not, as all she saw was darkness.
Then, the moon escaped its mask of cloud.
Light was upon them again, and now Fluttershy saw a woman, long pink hair, brighter than her own, wearing black wraps that covered most all of her. The woman pulled a pistol, older than Spikes, and pointed it in the direction of a certain fleeing cart driver. She fired and down he went, looking as if he tripped. She put it back in its place, under a pink sash about her waist. In her other hand she held a spatha. She looked towards Fluttershy. Her face was covered, like Mac's, and held no sympathy.
Trembling, Fluttershy looked up at the woman who had ended those mens lives. She had done far beyond what Fluttershy could ever do to another human. There was flat, pink hair that came from the top her head, ending just below her elbows. She did not know what to say. She was a killer, but she had saved her life. Gotten her out of a situation that she never thought she would be in.
The savior stopped just in front of Fluttershy, Fluttershy who still had tears rolling down her cheeks. Fluttershy who had wet herself not minutes ago. She sheathed her blades, then offered her hand out to the poor girl on her knees. For long, cruel minutes Fluttershy just looked at the hand offered to her, still trembling. It looked like a hand not meant for work it had already done. Then, she took it. She hugged herself tightly, staring into the blue eyes of this woman before her. Then, she hugged her. She hugged her tightly. Like she was her last hope that had shined through, in a cold darkness. Because she was.
Fluttershy let go, then rushed to the other graves, hopping down into the one with Applebloom. Fearing that the girl may be dead. She looked at her, no she was alive. Her chest rose,and fell as it should. It would seem that her fall had simply stolen her consciousness. She flashed only the briefest of smiles before getting into the grave that Twilight had been dropped into. The woman’s nose bled as she she lie there, in the dirt. But she, too, was alive.
She saw the deads glazed eyes, and almost puked.
The woman put a hand on Shy’s shoulder, and said to her “You’re friends, you know where they are, don’t you?”
She quickly nodded her head. She really didn’t want to think of what they might have to do.
The woman moved past Fluttershy and to the graves. In the graves lay Applebloom, and Twilight. She pulled them both out as best she could, then let them rest on their sides. “Hey, girlie, could you carry the lil’ one?”
Fluttershy rushed over to the girl, and gingerly picked her up, and carried her as she would a sleeping child. The other woman picked up Twilight. They brought these two over to the ox cart, and put them in the back, carefully as they could.
The nameless woman stepped up to the drivers seat, and took the reins. “W-where, I-I’m sorry, but where are w-we going?” Fluttershy asked, not wanting to offend in any way.
“Silly, we’re going to your house. Get in with your pals.” The woman said, as friendly as she could. Was she really the killer?
Fluttershy complied, as she would for anyone.
They set off on the final journey to there home.
Applejack, Spike, and the big man they called Mac all sat in what they might guess was used as an office. They were not permitted to wear shoes, coats or hats here, as they were outsiders. They sat on large cushions the wait in squares cut into the stone. Of course, Mac took up all of the cushion, and the square.
Spike looked at Mac. He had not seen him without hitmarge hat, or his heavy coat. He still wore the wraps over his face, but now Spike could see why he chose to wear them. He could see that he was burned, and bore many scars over his skin. His body was much the same way. He was wearing a sleeveless black shirt, so the scars and tattoos on his arms were unhidden. There were a great many of them, like one that seemed to be a sun on his shoulder. A scar cut through it, though.
Spike became aware of his staring, and corrected himself. Mac didn’t seem to mind, but one really didn’t know what he thought.
Applejack was anxious, and sat wondering when they would be joined, and told what it is they had to do. She wanted her hat back, and she wanted her boots back. Her feet were cold, and her head felt like the top was missing. They were told to wait in here, but apparently they’ve been forgotten. If the door hadn’t opened just then, she may have screamed.
“Apoolyek, come with I.”
Nothing.
“Apoolyek?”
Applejack realized he was trying to say her name. She stood up, embarrassed more than she thought she could be, apologizing to a short, round man in purple robes. She stood, and left with him, hating the cold stone that attacked her feet.
Now, it was only Spike, and Mac. The air was awkward, and high strung. Spike could barely breath with it, but he kept his cool, as best he could.
Mac seemed indifferent.
Applejack walked through the long narrow hallways, following a man half her size, she waddled like a penguin. She was close to 5’5, so he was apparently given a poor deal in genetics.
She looked in his hand, and saw a scroll of some sort. She didn’t know what it was for, and she usually didn’t care. But in a rather alien world, she did. But there was no way for her to know what was on it. She merely followed the man as if he were a shepherd, and she his flock of witless sheep.
They went up, and down stairs, and through what seemed more like tunnels than halls, until they came unto an area where arches separated them from a white sunlight. The floor was made of marble, and the arches were carved of something beyond immaculate. Plants of some kind hung from above the arches, blocking some of the light that reached for the two people in this room.
The man stepped in front of Applejack, a furious sweat starting at his hairline. He opened the scroll, and began to read it for her to hear. “‘ou ‘ave been decided upon to fight for you lafe een the sonds of our arena. Your blude maght be spalt but you have been contracted to do so.” He looked up at her, “You have no say.”
The only part of his talk she managed to pick up was the part where he said that she has “. . . no say”. “Come again, partner,” she asked.
“Arena.” The little man said.
“W-what about it?”
“You in arena.”
“This what you needed me for?”
The man nodded, while Applejack scowled.
“You bastards, this! This! I thought it was work you’d have me do, that’s murder!” She grabbed the man by his collar, and drew her fist back. Before she could strike, however, there was an orange light, and split in nothing that left a ring with a spear wielding soldier stepping out.
The man was prepared to end her if she harmed the man. She could tell. She let go of him, and at the guard. He said something in his own language, and disappeared through his portal.
“No violence here.” The man said. “Through door with you.” He pointed to the door behind her. She had no other options. She gave one final ugly look at the man, and went through the door, and into another long hallway. This one was the longest, and most constricting one yet. After what was perceived as hours, and hours of walking, she finally found another door. She could only assume that she was to go through this one as well.
She opened the door, and found herself amid men swinging swords at wood, and others being yelled at, while still others wait in cages like animals. It was a closed off area that felt like a cellar, had many grates to the outside.
A scarred and bearded man barks at her in foreign tongue. She is cared and does not know what to do. He points at door past a group of men beating another with polished wooden sticks. “Uh, the door?” She asks.
“Dqar, dqar!” The man yells.
She doesn’t know what to do.
He slaps her, hard, and points at the door again.
She wants to fight back, but she does not. She complies, because she knows that if she doesn’t she will die. As she walks past the man being beaten she hears him wailing, she looks closer for a moment, and she sees his jaw broken, and his blood splashing all about. She is horrified, and hurries through the door. She slams it behind her. There is a bench, old stains all about it that she knows she doesn’t want to add to. She sits on it.
She sits for a moment in silence before she starts weeping, and weeping. She is not going to survive this, and she knows it. Her face falls into her hands. What was she to do? She had never killed anyone, and she hoped she would never have to. How could she kill anyone? The thought of killing anyone put her on edge as it is. She wept. She was going to die here, and she would never again see Applebloom.
Spike sat next to Mac, alone in the room. He wanted to ask him something, but he knew he would get a grunt at most. So he sat, and felt awkward next to a lumbering giant, waiting for someone to show him what he needed to do.
Either time was going by either agonizingly slow, or a very large amount of time had passed. The only sound he could hear was the thump of his heart. This room was in thick contrast to the gathering of people he saw when he was shown into the palace, but it’s where they told him to stay here, and he was nothing if not obedient.
The door opened again, and the same small man from earlier came in, his scroll in hand. He pointed at Spike, and all he could assume was that he was to follow him. He stood, and felt the unsettling cold stone against his feet, and followed the robed stranger. In the long hallway outside of the door, it was clear that the celebration was still underway. The man turned the opposite direction it, however, and he followed him down marble floors, yearning for his bits.
They came unto a gilded door, and the small man pushed it open.Behind the door was a stairway leading down, the occasional torch representing light in total darkness. They descended them, and anything Spike thought was silence was here. The stairs went on for what was a true eternity, until they finally stepped into the dim twilight hours of the morning. Before them was a single
Water splashed on rock, as he looked up, and saw the steep grey and black stone on either side of the river. Past that was the grey, or blue of the young day.
“Good morning,” a voice slightly familiar said to him.
Spike looked for it, and he saw the young Elysian who escorted him, Applejack, and Mac to the palace. He seemed out of place without his older counterpart. “I guess.” Spike replied, cooly.
“Let’s not dawdle.” He gestured for the short man to leave them be. “Tell me, do you know anything about a siren?”
“You mean like an alarm?”
“No, I mean a woman who sings so beautifully men crash their ships into cliffs, but as they drown, they try to hear her voice.”
“That seems pretty cryptic.” Spike said, almost mechanically.
“It is.”
“So, what are you going to have me do?”
“There is a siren causing our ships trouble. You’re going to end her.”
“What?” Were they really going to have him kill another person?
“Kill her, boy.” The man said coldly, almost like this was expected of anyone.
“I can’t kill someone,” Spike thought of Twilight, the lectures she would give him about life and death when he was younger.
“Why not? You carry a weapon, you’re obviously expecting to have to kill someone.”
Spike’s hand touched his gun under his jacket, “How did you know I have a gun?”
“You hardly hide it.” The man’s face softened, “just how how old are you?”
“I’m fifteen.” Spike replied.
“Alright then, when I was your age I, and nineteen others, were pit against each other in an arena.” He frowned, “I would have sold my mother’s corpse to be in your position.”
Spike remained silent.
The man moved to the side, revealing that there had been a small wooden boat, with runes carved into the side. They seemed to shimmer, almost.
“Those carvings will insure that you will not be under the woman’s trance. You’ll still be able to hear her, but it will not hypnotize you as it has most others.”
“How will I know where she is?” Spike asked.
“Stay along the coast, to the south. If pirates do not have you, then you will surely find her.”
“Alright, l-I guess I’ll be off.” Spike shrugged, then walked to the boat. He stepped in rather wary of it.”
The man stared as Spike rowed out to sea. He did not know if was going to die. But he expected to.
The silence was peaceful, and trancelike, to the giant. He knew what he was going to have to do. But for now, he enjoyed the solemn quiet. He felt along his belt for the rope Applejack had left him, and he slowly rubbed it as if it were alive and cooing at his touch.
If everyday were like this, he would be truly happy. Beyond happy. He would stay in the beautiful world of his head, and he would not have to think of the illness that the world wreaked of. He would not have to look upon dregs of society, and feel sick at the ilk who call themselves humans. He could forget his past, and focus on nothing.
A third time the door swung open, and the same short man entered. He looked at Mac, and Mac stood. The small man almost fainted. Mac was easily three times his height, of not more. After an awkward moment of staring at each other the little one left with Mac following him.
Where the small man took the large was far. They left the palace, walking by the drunken fools who attended the party, and out the main gate. Down a path on the side of the cliff, that gave them a view of the later half of the city, and just where the river lead to. After the palace, the canyon opened up, allowing more room for the city the breath, but regardless it built itself atop itself.
The river lead to an ocean so far, and so wide, it would take the breath away from anyone but Mac. The only thing Mac wanted was his hat, coat, and shoes back. But regardless, he followed the sad little man until they were on the streets, again.
As they walked, the city seemed to be waking up. People came outside, and greeted one another, shops, and stalls opened, workers began their tedious day as the unseen pillars of an ungrateful city.
When the duo stopped, they met the edge of the water, graced by sand and grass. Floating in the water mere feet from the shore was a fairly small boat normally used for shipping goods with several young men aboard. On the beach there was the old man.
“Good day.” He held a mess of black cloth, a hat, and a pair of boots.
Mac said nothing, he only took his things, and put them on. He felt at home under his wide brimmed hat.
“I expect you know what to do, Mac?”
Mac nodded.
“Excellent, miboy. Get to it.”
The old man left with the short one, and Mac waded the few feet separating him from the boat. He climbed on to it, and looked at the horizon. Breaking through it was an island forbidden. A tower perched on it, made of stone, and back breaking labor.
Mac would go there, and he would slay the monster they asked him to. This would cancel Applejacks contract with these buffoons, and he would be step closer to his sought after happiness. He would rest easy once he beheaded the beast, and he might find even dream of it after it happened.
Twilight rubbed her nose. Somehow it didn’t break, after having it rammed with the blunt end of a staff, but is still bled like it was. She sat next to Applebloom at Applejack’s kitchen table, across from a woman who saved her Applebloom seemed so melancholy, and Twilight understood completely. Applejack was like a mother to her, and she was gone for what could be forever. Fluttershy was upstairs, bathing. (Poor girl can hardly hold her bladder as it is. When men with spears jump out of nowhere, she could hardly help it.)
The woman across from her spoke so fast, that Twilight almost thought that she was speaking a foreign language. But eventually, she got the jist. Applejack had been forced into an arena, and would surely die if no one came to her rescue.
“How do you know all of this?”
“I was a spy for Equestria, an’ I tailed them into the city, stalkin’ through the shadows.”
“I-I see.” Twilight said. “Applebloom, why don’t you go up stairs.” The young redhead did as she was asked.
“Yeah, and I they’re gonna make her kill people, an’-”
“Like you?”
“Wh-what? No, she’s gonna have to fight, or die, and I bet she’ll be doin’ a lot more dying than fighting.”
“Alright, so what do you propose we do?”
“Bust her out.” The woman said so simply.
“I don’t think it would be quite so simple.”
“Don’t see why no.”
“Well, there’s probably enough guards to take over a small country, and even if there isn’t, we’ll be run out of the city by even the smallest number of armed idiots.”
“Well, I can sneak in.”
“But we can’t.”
“Okay,” she said slowly, “But I can.”
Twilight shook her head in anguish, then let out a small sigh. For the next few moments they sat in utters silence. This was terrible news, yes, but panicking would get Twilight nowhere. So she thought for as long as the silence held. And then she had it, and she asked: “So what do you know about the local flora?”
Applejack wept, but she didn’t even know why anymore. All it did was make her feel like even more of a coward than she was. She lay on a leather mat, cold and shivering, bitter air violating her. She missed everything, even the troubled times. But she tried to forget them, because if she thought this was as good as it gets, it might just be easier.
They had forced away her clothes, and allowed her only to wear an old, and faded cloth that covered her torso. They spoke to her in their language, a language she knew nothing about. They fed her the scraps the others would not, or could not eat.
And come tomorrow they expected her to kill.
They didn’t even train her. She decided this was because they expected her to die more than kill. That was probably what was going to happen. She knew it, they knew it, and anyone who hadn’t had their sense beaten out of them yet knew it.
Someone kicked Applejack, waking her from a forced slumber. She looked up to see the bearded man, looking at her with a snarl. Like always he only pointed where she needed to go while barking orders she didn’t understand.
She walked towards a black metal gate that was locked, keeping her from where she would eventually be forced to go. A small hallway to the the arena. And apparently this hallway was where visitors came to see about their bets.
She looked through it, and she saw just the man she wanted to see. The young man who had escorted, and tricked her. “You,” She said, pointing at him, “you bastard, I’m going to-”
“Nothing. You can’t do anything to me, not as long as you’re here, and I’m just about anywhere else.”
Applejack was silent, she didn’t want to say anything to the man in front of her.
“Look, I figured you would want to die with that hat you always wear.” Her produced a worn stetson, and pushed it through the bars.
Applejack snatched it away, and put it on her head. She never took her eyes off of him.
“You’re welcome, yokel.” He walked away, leaving her to her fate.
For the next few hours Applejack took up space, avoiding anything that might warrant an abuse of some sort. The image of the man beaten to death the previous morning stayed with her. She found a spot on the floor, under a pillar where she decided to keep herself warm, and stay out of the way of the other slaves, who either trained on dummies, and targets, or someone they decided no one liked. The only problem was how cold it was against her bare ass.
All around there were weapon racks, and tables of some kind of armor on it. Applejack assumed they were to be worn only for fights. The weapons on the other hand were used freely in training, and every sort of practice. There were swords, and maces, chains, spears, whips, nets, scythes, clubs, even a few guns. Applejack couldn’t think of the kind of person who could come up with these things, and she hoped she never met them. Then she realized she had met them, and they were all around her.
They were the many men and women around her forced to fight for their lives, and whether or not they knew it, it was molding them into animals that no kind of god could create. Turning them into people who enjoyed the some of the sickest of things. Making them reprehensible against their own will.
Applejack tried to feel sorry for them, but she wouldn’t lie to herself. She didn’t care a thing about them, and she knew it. She just hoped she could make it out and see Applebloom once more. That would make her life complete.
The scarred man approached Applejack as she sat. He kicked her shin, and she felt jealous of his sandals before looking up at him.
This time he pointed at a trio of slaves at a table grabbing weapons, and armor. She knew what this meant, and suddenly there was a terrible empty feeling all through out her.
She stood, and walked to where they were. Her knees were weak with fear, and for a moment she thought of her horrible fate. But she pushed that to the side. She needed to survive, and focusing on dread was no way to go about that.
At the table there was a single sleeve of armor, coming up to a bronze pauldron. She took it, and put it on, slowly. Next to it was a pair of schynbalds. They looked to made of iron, and they were rusted, but they looked like they would fit. She strapped them to her shins. She tried to get used to the weights, and movement of her armor. It was difficult at first, but eventually, she got the hang of it. Then, she went on to browse for some sort of weapon.
It still seemed twisted to her, that people could think of these things. She had never used anything other than a pistol, but before her was anything but.
On the rack was a sword, between two others. It was different, by far. The sword was for two handed use, clearly. But instead of ending in a point, it ended in a squared off edge. As the blade went on, it went from a steely grey, to an iridescent black. She had never seen anything like it. She picked it up, and tested its weight. It was heavy, even to this brawny woman.
It was hers, she decided. She walked to the other three fighters, and she stood outside the gate, waiting to die.
Next to her was a timid young man, his hair was black, and streaked with grey, though he looked hardly old enough to know how to fight. He twitched, and he spazzed. He had never fought before, and she could tell. He glanced at her, and she held herself from giving a curt wave. She didn’t know anything about him, other than that he was young, but she couldn’t kill him. If it came down to it, she would have to, but she wouldn’t like herself for it.
The other two looked like they were equally weak, but seemed so much less innocent, like this was their punishment for some heinous act. One was obviously scared, but ready to fight. The other was repeating some words in his language, like a prayer to mystical beings that might protect him.
The bearded man came over to them, and he looked them all over. He said something in his language, and then spat on the ground. With a bent key, he unlocked the gate, and the four walked out, and stood on the sandstone floor of the hallway, before the first of them stepped into the sand.
The rest followed.
There was an eery silence, like there was a noise that they needed to hear, but they couldn’t. The arena was in the shape of a rectangle, spectators filled every seat. They watched as the four stepped out, and four more from the opposite side of the arena. They looked experienced, with years of slaughter to their names.
Then, as she stepped onto the scorching sands of the dead, Applejack realized this was a screening. The other three in her group were just as weak as her, and whoever organized these fights knew that. They were going to slay the weak, so that only the strong will remain. She wasn’t going to fight those beside her, she was to face those far ahead.
The other group wasted no time, they knew that they were going to live, and they charged like feral beasts.
The two men in Applejack’s group charged, too, then Applejack, then the boy.
When they met, Applejack brought her sword down in the head of whoever she faced. The snap of bone would have made her sick, if she had the time. She heard a whimper next to her, she looked, and the boy was covering his head with a shield, as a man built like a god raised an ax high above them both.
Applejack prepared herself, closed her eyes, and swung her sword like a bat.
In the same instant that the man fell, her sword embedded into him two thirds of the way, his ax fell on the boy, landing on his thigh. He shrieked, and yelled, while clutching his leg, rolling onto his side.
Applejack left her sword in the man’s body, and came to his aid. She didn’t know what to do, but any help seemed like a good idea. As she yanked the ax from his, now useless, leg a shadow fell on them.
The woman looked behind her, and she saw a man with a great hammer, about to swing. She stumbled out of the way, quick as she could, dropping her hat in the process. The hammer came down on the boys knee, and he screamed again, his face contorting into a look of despair, agony, and hopelessness, that no one should have to bare.
Applejack looked at him, and almost hated herself, before her attention was stolen by the brute about to kill her. She bolted to her feet, and lept over the crying boy, and grabbed her sword, still stuck in the dead man from earlier. She pulled, and tugged, and just as he was about to crush her like a bug, it came free, connecting with the handle of his hammer, its head coming off, leaving only a glorified stick.
The man registered this quickly, and jabbed her in the face with its stub. She faltered, and fell back, holding her cheek. He proceeded to beat her like an abusive husband, all about her body. She tried to raise her weapon in some defense, but the man stepped on the hilt, pressing her hand into the ground.
He focused on her arm now. She could see a twisted smile behind his chainmail mask, whenever she opened her eyes. The man saw her on her side, and then slammed his weapon into her face like a golf club, forcing her onto her back.
For the first time she heard the crowd. She wasn’t sure if they had been quiet, or she just wasn’t paying attention until now. But she was sure that they were more brutal than this. Yes, this pain was brutal, cruel, and inhuman, but those people were worse. They were the ones who watched this mess, these tortured souls, and wanted more. They were the sick, they were the criminals.
The man continued to beat her stomach, as she curled into a ball. She opened her eyes again, and through her fading vision, she saw the boy, his leg limp and, hanging by a tendon. He slid his shield, the very one he thought would save him earlier. It slid across the sand in the direction of Applejack. It glided across the sand like a messenger from the gods, and she clutched it like it was weapon of the gods.
She found it’s grip, and just as the man was to deliver one final blow, she hit him the side of his knee with it, forcing him to fall like a king driven from power.
He held his knee, grunting in agony. Applejack rose, still holding the most painful of her wounds, a broken rib, and limped over to him.
His knee was bleeding, like something more horrendous than a shield bash ailed him. He reached for his weapon, and Applejack stopped him, stepping on his hand.
He looked up at her, as if she were his mother. Applejack was going to ram her shield into his brain, but she abstained from destroying him for a moment. She saw the boy mere feet away. Then she looked at the man about to die, and grimaced.
She brought the shield into his temple, killing him, losing him forever.
She stepped over him, and limped to her hat, just past the boy. She picked it up, and she put it atop her head, almost mimicking a monarch.
Looking over the boy, she felt the worst kind of regret, the kind that comes with losing someone you thought you could protect.
She stood over him, looking down at him, and she saw pain in his eyes. She pulled raised her sword high, a line in the sand had followed her from where it dragged. “I-I,” she choked out, “I’m so-sorry.”
She brought the blade down in a sweeping motion, taking his head off, and giving her so many feelings all at once.
And then, she fainted.
Applejack reflected on her first fight in the arena. That had been almost a month ago. Since then she had fought almost every day, more than once a day. And she had not known agony until she had been forced to kill others. She could only put on a face of determination, and hope that she would prevail. And somehow, she always did.
Her armor had become beaten, and worn. Her skin had become just as flawed, with so many scars, and reminders to her shortcomings. But for all those shortcomings, she still won out in the end. She practiced all day, when she wasn’t fighting. But that could not be the source of her victories. She didn’t know how she won, and she didn’t care. They told her this was her last fight, and she knew she’d win. She’d won every other fight, so why not this one?
She stepped into the brief hallway before the sand of the arena, and stopped at the gate. It was like this before every fight. She stood there, holding a sword as tall as herself, as an announcer spoke gibberish in a language she couldn’t understand.
And then, the gate dropped.
She stepped into the arena, and walked, never would she charge, to the center. From the other side, a woman stepped out. Her feet were wrapped in rags, and her torn, old tunic was stained with blood she had drawn. Wings bound to her body tight by chains enchanted by some evil sorcery were useless to her at the moment.They were a pale blue, and seemed almost sickly.
But despite all that, what struck Applejack the most was her hair. Her hair was dirty, messy, unruly even, but it was colored in the same colors of a rainbow. Plenty of people had hair that was multicolored, but Applejack had never seen a person with hair like that.
She wielded an axe, and she knew how to use it. She charged, running like she was riding a lightning bolt. Applejack focused one her, and she raised her sword, ready to strike.
The other woman was within range, and Applejack almost swung her sword, but spun, and slammed the heel of her foot into the other’s jaw. Now, Applejack would use her sword. She raised it high, like an executioner, but dropped her sword, doubling over in pain.
The woman had kicked her, right in the stomach. She stood, rubbing her jaw, and spit. Then she picked up her hatchet, and prepared to plant it in the other.
She swung, but just as she did, the other fell to her knees, and pulled the Rainbow haired woman’s feet out from under her. Applejack straddled her, proceeding to beat her, until a hand darted up grab her by the throat.
This rainbow haired woman hit Applejack in the face, one, two, three times, before she got the upper hand and rolled over on top of her. She started to choke Applejack.
Grasping for anything she could, Applejack scooped a handful of sand in her hand, then slammed it into the other woman’s eye.
The woman reeled back in pain, holding her eye. Applejack punched her in the nose, then pushed her off of her, before she stood up, and started kicking the woman. Once she reasoned the woman to be subdued she backed away, picked up her sword, and just as she was about to bring it down, she felt a deep burning pain in her side.
She dropped her sword, and her hands quickly darted to the spot on her side where the pain radiated. She looked down, and she saw red rapids flowing from her. Not from her eyes, but from her body. She fell to her knees, in agonizing pain, clenching the wound, tight.
Things started going black. He vision faded in and out as blood began to pool around her. The last thing she saw before it ended was the other woman swinging her own sword. The one she’d made her own. She didn’t feel a thing.
Up above the arches, and statues, and the crowd, atop the roof of the arena the shadow pulled the bolt of the rifle back, ejecting the spent casing. She watched as her beloved finished off the blonde with a sickening execution. Blood sprayed. A single tear rolled down the shadow’s cheek as she lay the telescoped rifle to the side.
As the crowd below her roared, and cheered it’s symphony of over zealous debauchery, she slunk away.
