Four

Muse landed on the white, paved streets of the South Cloudsdale district. Looking around, the tall white buildings all looked vacant, and the streets were eerily empty. The only sound was wind whistling through the lonely clouds. As a filly, Muse played in these streets. She walked to school here. She had bought treats and drinks at a storefront that should have been to her left… The pegasus looked, seeing only the black and starless sky where her home-city should have continued. Fear shook through the pony’s bones, rooting her to the spot. What was she doing here? Muse was not a fighter. Muse was not tough, or intimidating. Muse was one little pony with no idea of what she was doing. The mare closed her eyes, and took a deep breath.

Her parents.

A sharp pang stabbed her in the chest, full of fear and worry. That was enough to move her hooves, and carry the pegasus down the brightly lit and empty streets. Muse’s feathers stiffened as she passed under the lights, craning her head to look up at the yellow street lamps beaming down at her. The lights of Cloudsdale were built to react to the presence of the hundreds of pegasi living there. It was normal for them to be on. It wasn't normal for Muse to feel so painfully alone in those bright streets.

Passing the cloud-built homes, Muse noticed several covered in a strange grey substance she had never seen before. Curiously, she approached a mass of grey sludge that stretched out over the street. It had an unhealthy, sticky sheen to it. Strings of the goo clung to the base of the street light. A few bubbles of air were still trapped beneath the ugly mire, struggling to pop free. Muse eyed the bubbles, her senses tingling uncomfortably. Her hoof raised, and the pegasus leaned in, considering giving the stuff a proper prod. Sniffing, she wrinkled her nose, smelling the corrosive, sickly sweet smell of vomit rising from the substance.

“Uuagh.”  Coughing, Muse lowered her hoof, deciding against getting the muck on her hooves. The pony backed away, deciding to give the stuff a cautious berth.  She sighed, looking around the vacant street.

“Hello?” She called out. Muse waited, ears perked, listening for an answer. There was nothing, just wind passing between the buildings. She couldn't hear the laughter of fillies cloud hopping away from their little brothers. No echoing shouts from mothers summoning their children back home; or deep rumbling sounds of stallions laughing over sports and cider. This was supposed to be a homey neighborhood. Muse’s hooves clip-clopped down the street as memories of what should be penetrated her. An elderly mare used to live on the house to the right. She had kept doves, and knew them all by name and called them her babies. She babysat Muse as a filly and always made herbal teas that smelled like perfume.

Shadows played across the cloud city, darting around in the corners of Muse’s eyes. The mare stopped, craning her neck to peer around in the dark parts where the street lights missed. She could have sworn there was something there, moving just beyond the light. In her peripheral, the pegasus could almost see what looked like movement, but every time she turned to look, it was just silent, empty streets. The clouds around her creaked and clacked. Muse’s feathers bristled and her hair stood on end.

Clouds didn't creak.

Her hooves flew down the street, carrying the spooked mare with them. A small whimper lodged itself in Muse’s throat as her heart tapped out an erratic rhythm. Her parent’s house came into view and she flew up the steps she remembered from years of playing on them. Muse burst through the door and in a burst of fear that had been building inside her shouted;

“Mom! Dad!” Her voice cracked a bit, strained from the weight pressing into her mind. The silence answering the pony made her knees buckle, threatening to collapse. There was nothing, except more of the grey slime bulging over the floor grotesquely, collected in piles over her mother's furniture. She flew to the second floor, calling again. Her resolve started to crumble with every door she burst through, only to be greeted by nothing.

The house was a shell, everything exactly where it always was, other than the sinister absence of her family. Muse walked though the house, panic throbbing away into a disappointed numbness. Entering her parent’s room, she tipped her head, envisioning her parents welcoming her in. Collapsing onto their bed was like feeling their arms around her. She closed her eyes and breathed in their scent. Their laundry soap. Oil from her father’s saddlebags. Her mother’s perfume. She crawled under their covers and snuggled into their pillows, pretending they were there with her, and not missing from their home. Her mother stroking her mane, and her father on the other side, telling her all about the neighborhood gossip. Who still has yet to return his borrowed cloud-cutters. Both of them reassuring her that everything would be fine.

A quiet sob tightened her throat, as Muse suddenly felt like a very small little filly playing in a very grownup game. She wanted her parents with her. After everything from the train to finding Dusty, she tried to stay collected, to stay sane. But just for a minute she wanted to be a little helpless filly that got to be doted on by her parents again. She wanted to cry, to scream out all her pent up emotion, to vent the anger she felt that when Muse needed them most: her parents were gone. But instead she just huddled in a small ball underneath the covers, soaking in what comfort she could from the ghostly echoes of her parents’ presence.

It was well into the night when Muse found her way back to the spot where she had left her companions. Dusty had made a fire, or so Muse assumed. She somewhat doubted Ivory had much outdoorsy skill. The pegasus landed just inside the orange glow of the fire, barely nodding to the other two, who started at the arrival. Ivory rose to her hooves and stomped towards Muse furiously, the fire glinting off her cracked glasses.

“How- how dare you!” She squeaked, her anger bottling up her voice into a high hiss. “You can’t just take off after a cloud out here. It’s not safe, we have to-“

“I thought the princesses were handling it.” Muse cut the unicorn off with a dull stare. Her retort lacked any luster or spunk. The pegasus just batted it out there automatically, without heart. Ivory huffed, rolling her eyes.

“Forget it, you’re not even sorry.” She glared at the pegasus. Ivory started to turn away, but stopped, whipping back around to add;

“There are things other than monsters from Tartarus that would love to gobble up a stupid pony like you.”

Muse just stood there, Ivory’s angry snaps hardly registering to the pony. Muse tried to find some spark of indignation to throw back at the unicorn but, instead she just felt lethargic and defeated. What did it matter, letting Ivory have something to fume over? Muse couldn't bring herself to care. She was busy concentrating on the gnawing pit in her stomach that was threatening to empty the rest of her. Dusty’s shadow fell over the patch of sand she was fixated on.

“Sorry.” She said listlessly.

“Did you find your folks?” the stallion asked.

“No.” Muse’s voice shrank along with her body. Mentally she chewed over that answer again and again. What did ‘no’ mean? Was it hopeful, or was it terribly foreboding? The mare suspected that somehow it was both, and that duality made Muse feel even worse. She looked up at the pinto stallion, biting her lip. His eyes were narrowed in concern, but he gave her a comforting smile when Muse’s eyes met his. With a nudge, Dusty led Muse to the fire and sat her down.

“What did you find?” He asked, sitting beside her. Across the fire, Muse saw Ivory glaring at the two.

“Nothing.” Muse said. Her voice was much steadier than the rest of her. “It’s completely abandoned but… I don’t know, I think the cloud’s magic might be broken.”

“Why do you think that?” Dusty asked.  Muse lowered her head, resting it in the sand.

“All the lights were still on.” She muttered, staring at the orange flames. “They shouldn't be…”

“Oh good. So she took off and abandoned us for nothing?” Ivory’s voice snarked darkly from the other side of the fire, fresh with bitterness. Muse’s head snapped up.

“For nothing?” She repeated, the empty hole inside her filling up with outrage. All the exhaustion and fear and worry drained from the mare’s body as she stood, blood pounding in her ears. It felt good to be afire with anger; better than having empty anxieties echoing off each other lethargically. Muse fed it happily, using her worry and fear and thoughts of her parents as fuel for a beam of rage directed at Ivory Spire. “Hundreds of ponies have vanished. Thousands more could be dead. Cloudsdale has only been broken up when disaster and death have destroyed pegasi abilities to keep the city together. There was sludge all over the clouds that I’ve never seen before, my parents are missing, and there are things out there that shred ponies like cheese.”

“There’s a reasonable explanation for everything.” Ivory shot back. “There was probably just a cloud factory meltdown, which caused your sludge and required ponies to evacuate. I'm sure everything is under control. Ponies are probably rounding up your stupid neighbourhood as we speak.”

The unicorn sniffed, looking proud of herself for her logical sense. Dusty got to his hooves, standing between the two mares, one of whom looked ready to attack. He stared down at Muse until the pegasus looked away and sat back down. Then the stallion looked at Ivory exasperatedly.

“Are you listening to yourself?” He asked her quietly. “I don’t care if you think all this will be solved and dandy by the time we reach Appleloosa. If Cloudsdale has broken up, you worry. You know what’s in Cloudsdale besides weatherponies?”

Ivory shook her head, quieted by the steady stare Dusty gave her.

“Over a third of the reserves for the Royal Army. If disaster hasn't struck Cloudsdale, then it’s been emptied out by a call from the Princesses. And they never, ever use military force unless it’s something those three goddesses can’t handle without manpower.” His green eyes bored into the unicorn. “We clear?”

Ivory made two short nods, her eyes averted from the stallion. She settled back down and curled up, staring off into the middle distance, her ears flat against her skull. Dusty sighed and shook his head, sitting back beside Muse, looking somewhat distressed with himself. Muse eyed him suspiciously. For a pony who worked on a train a couple days ago, he knew a lot about the military’s procedures, and Cloudsdale’s part in them.

“Who are you?” She asked. Dusty’s lips quirked into a smile.

“Even the simplest pony can learn a lot about the world simply by paying attention and looking around.” He answered cryptically. Muse rolled her eyes and sighed.

“You’re the worst, Ser Dusty.” The mare complained, stretching out. “I can’t write ballads about you if you don’t give me answers.”

Yawning, Muse looked up, noticing the stallion still sitting up and looking around.

“Looking for something?” She asked.

“Keeping watch.” Dusty replied with a smile. “I’ll wake you two up if I see anything suspicious. You go on and sleep some.”

“Really?” Muse murmured, curling up in a ball.

“Sleep well, Muse.”  Dusty’s voice echoed in her ears as she let her eyes shut and her mind wash itself away. She was back in her parent’s house, and she was a young filly. Bouncing around, pleading for one more story, until her parents swept in and carried her into bed. Snuggling into the warm comfort of her bed. Her dreams were broken by a quiet sob. Blearily, Muse’s eyes opened, and she saw Dusty’s large figure across the fire, sitting beside Ivory’s smaller one. Briefly, she toyed with the thought of picking herself up, of approaching the two, of consoling the cries.The grey mare’s head dropped back down into the sand and her eyes shut.  Then she was back in Cloudsdale as she remembered it. Bright and colorful and full of lively ponies flying through the air...

The morning came, and again Celestia‘s glory was muted so that the warm yellow sun was diminished, dull and brownish. The ponies below the sun ignored the foreboding sign, and kicked out their fire, rubbing sleep from their eyes. The three didn't speak to one another, and sullenly headed out towards their destination.

The sun was starting to fall past the horizon line, when Muse landed beside the river for a drink. Her wings were burning from constant usage. Thanks to a draft of wind she was coasting on, today was easier on her; still, it’d be good to walk awhile. As she lowered her head to drink, her ears twitched, hearing someone approach. She sighed.

“Mind if we walk together?” Dusty’s query seemed more like a statement of what was about to happen rather than a question. Muse straightened and forced a smile together. The stallion fell in step with her and they walked along the river.

“You’re not talking to Ivory.” He noted.

“Well, she’s not talking to me.” Muse scoffed. Dusty made a pained expression.

“Holding grudges doesn’t help anyone out here.” He said, frowning.

“It’s helping me.” Muse retorted, tossing her mane out of her face. Dusty gave her an exasperated look.

“You can’t-“

Muse cut him off. “You’ve heard her talk. She won’t listen to anything we say. So what’s the point? I might as well just let her flounder around thinking a princess is going to swoop in and save her. Maybe halfway through dying horribly she’ll realize that’s a stupid thing to think.”

“You’re being a bratty little filly.” Dusty said, his voice surprising Muse with its harshness. “She’s scared out of her mind. And she’s been relying on you this whole time. You can’t just drop her because she annoys your sense of practicality in the face of danger.”

“Well I don’t want that job. Why don’t you take it? You’re the gallant one.” Muse fired back.

“I think it’s too late for that.” Dusty muttered quietly with a wry smile.

“You know what, buck this- I thought you were on my side! You defended me going to Cloudsdale.” The mare snapped, glaring up at the stallion.

He sighed. “I defended the reasons you had for going, and disagreed with her attitude. It was still reckless, and inconsiderate.”

“It was my parents!” Defended Muse with a shout. His green eyes fixated on her.

“I know. And I’m sorry. But you need to look around. You have friends depending on you-“

“She isn’t my friend.” The pegasus snorted, stamping her good hoof. Her wings unfolded, flapping angrily. “And neither are you. You’re just a pair of ponies I saved and got stuck with.”

Dusty stopped walking, a look of genuine hurt crossing his face. The look in his eyes made Muse feel like a monster, like there was something evil and tarlike crawling under her skin, making her say those things. But there they were. She couldn’t take them back.

“Who do you think you are, anyway?” Muse demanded, letting her suspicions fall out of her mouth like angry bolts aimed at him. She avoided the stallion's eyes, feeling compelled to continue down this hurtful path stubbornly, until she could escape the conversation. “Why are you so gung-ho about turning a file-organizer, a writer and a trainpony into an unbreakable fellowship?”

Dusty sighed, ears drooping. “My family.” He said, hesitantly. Muse glared at him. The stallion averted his gaze.

“I love my family well enough. They’re mostly good ponies. I’m not proud to be one of them though. I’ve avoided them for years. But there is one thing they taught me that I consider worthwhile.” His eyes lifted to check on Muse’s attentiveness. “Friendship. Even in the worst storm life can hurl down, friendship can protect ponies. It can save them. I believe that. So when monsters from beyond Equestria flay my flank and send me running to the desert; when I collapse and prepare to die and instead some little pegasus shows up to lead me to the river…I know that friendship is there, protecting me.”

Dusty dropped his gaze, walking past Muse. The pegasus stood still, wind ruffling her hair. Guilt gnawed at the empty spot inside her gut. What were they to her? Could she really call them friends? The pegasus snorted. What did it matter? Right now, all that mattered was getting to Appleloosa. All that mattered was ponies getting to safety. Friendship didn’t make Muse feel safer. She trotted after the others who had stopped at the top of a hill. As she approached she could hear Ivory say;

“Ugh, what smells?”

Joining them, Muse looked down at the desert town of Appleloosa. The dull orange light from the setting sun cast long shadows of the buildings across the ground, as though the town was reaching out towards the weary three. Her excitement grew at the sight of the orchard in the distance and her stomach growled loudly. Ivory gave her an odd look.

“What?” Muse replied defensively.

“Where is everypony?” Dusty asked himself lowly. The stallion seemed tense, and his rock-steady aura had vanished. Without pause he headed towards the town, leaving the two mares scrambling to follow after his quick canter. His ears strained forward trying to hear any signs of life in the growing darkness. They passed an overturned barrel of apples, abandoned by the side of the path going into the town. Muse and Ivory both stopped to grab a mouthful of apple, but Dusty only quickened his pace. As they approached the town, there were more signs of the Appleloosians suddenly abandoning various tasks. Laundry scattered on the ground. Wheelbarrows and their goods dumped by the road.  At the front of the town, there was a large stone statue of a pony in a Stetson hat. The stallion wore a vest with a star pinned to it. She walked closer, reading the plaque:

‘Braeburn Apples: Founder of Appleloosa. Creator of the Buffalo Treaties. Loved by pony, respected by buffalo, missed by all.’

In smaller print, Muse read: ‘DED by HRH. Twilight Sparkle’

Muse touched the statue, trying to find some comfort in knowing that once, a princess was here. If Ivory read that plaque, she’d be filled with serenity, finding safety in the reminder that the princesses walked amongst common ponies. For Muse, there was nothing. Who cared where the princesses walked in the past? They weren’t in Appleloosa now. Sighing, Muse looked up at the desert town and, Muse’s mouth opened in shock.

“Oh no.” She whispered, realizing what Ivory could smell on the wind earlier. Hanging in familiar clumps and creeping along the ground was the same grisly and sickly grey sludge that had overtaken Cloudsdale...