Chapters The ground rumbled and rattled, small creatures darting away from the metal rails which cut through the serene and rolling countryside. A billow of smoke and a high shriek announced the presence of the scarlet train as it whistled by, blazing along the railway. It was proud and modern, an aerodynamic and sleek model built for long distance passenger rides. It was the newest in the latest fleets of high-speed passenger trains, another innovative design from workers at Windigo Trains Inc; named for their boast that their trains were as fast as the legendary wind ponies.
It was one of the many new wonders in the new progress-driven Equestria. No longer did a train have to be a hungry beast, fed and nurtured by several large, sweating stallions shoveling coal into the train’s gullet, their watchful eyes glued to the gauges monitoring every detail of the steel monster. Now, crystals infused with magic enchantments combined with fuel imported from Saddle Arabia. Together they pushed the train through valleys and mountain and cities at incredible speeds that left a taste of awe in the mouths of ponies it passed by.
As the train chugged along, the engine driver sipped an aromatic cup of coffee as he blithely rambled to a young worker who had the misfortune of ending up in the room just as the aging stallion felt compelled to regale a crowd with stories of his youth.
“And let me tell ya, back in the ol’day, Buffalo tribes were ruthless. They’d run a train off her tracks and stampede until it was scrap metal. And the sneaky ones! Ah, the moment they sniffed out anything of value, the hairy buggers would whoop and shout and cause a commotion- distracting the whole train. And that was the point, a diversion you see. They’d send some young warrior to unlatch the desired carriage and before you knew it- BAM, they were laughing and howling while they carried off treasure, or cars of young mares never heard from again, the filthy-“
“Sir?”
The old, beige stallion blinked at looked down at the young worker, whose ears flicked to the side nervously. The engine driver coughed, disgruntled at the interruption.
“Well. Ah suppose the truces made with the tribes have…settled such scores. Those days have been long gone. But still, it could happen. Anytime those Buffalo got bored or unsettled, Ah’m telling you. It’s why a good train worker never sleeps on the job-“
A sharp knock cut in on the engineer’s lecture. The graying pony stamped his hoof in annoyance, irritated at the second break in his soap box. “Yep?”
Without hesitation, the door swung open and the slender conductor trotted in, levitating a clipboard and a pen beside her.
“I’ve come to check on our itinerary progress and-“ Her steely gaze shot to the younger stallion. “What are you doing here, baggage pony ?”
“Ah- I was just. Just-“
“Oh leave him alone Crisp Note, he was just keeping an old pony company.”
Crisp Note bristled underneath her uniform. This situation did not fit her standards of a perfect train operation. The old engineer raised an eyebrow.
“If ya like, he can leave. Just hope this ol’ pony by himself doesn’t fall asleep at the wheel…Be mighty embarrassing.” A mischievous glint shone in his eyes as he watched the flustered conductor go from her clipboard, to the greying stallion, and back.
“Well.” She glared at the pair disapprovingly. “If. I suppose. If the driver insists-“
“Ah do.” The engineer smiled, at the unicorn, who snorted. Crisp Note looked at her clipboard, lips pressed against her teeth impatiently. The pale stallion merely looked out the window at the horizon which reddened as the sun dipped down past the valleys and mountains.
“Ah’m happy to report that we are ahead of schedule. You tell the ponies in the engine room to keep her going at this pace; we’ll reach Las Pegasus before the sun rises.”
The answer seemed to lighten the expression of the conductor’s face, and she scribbled down the note dutifully.
“Delightful. Being ahead of schedule is always preferable. I’ll have dinner brought to you…and your friend at six.”
“Wonderful.”
The conductor gave the worker one last glare and then stalked out of the room. Silence filled the air for several moments. Finally, the driver glanced over at the younger pony and smiled.
“What’s your name, son?”
“My friends call me Dusty.”
“Dusty, eh?” The driver concentrated, as though committing the name to memory. “Well then Dusty, you’re free to go. I know you must have things to do other than let an old pony rant on.”
Dusty hesitated, looking over at the driver. The old timer’s rambles had alarmed the young earth pony, but after the conductor’s appearance, the driver seemed much more tolerable. Endearing even. Besides, he didn’t want to run into the high strung conductor. He hopped up into the seat beside the engineer and looked out at the beautiful desert scenery.
“Do you have any good stories about Buffalo?” He asked. The old stallion’s eyes crinkled into a smile.
“I do. There’s an old Buffalo tale about the stars. They say that when the world was made, the stars grew jealous of the life that flourished in our beautiful land. But the Maker had trapped them in the night sky, sewn in like jewels in an endless tapestry. So the stars could only watch our lands grown and change and prosper. Unable to do anything but watch, the stars grew hateful and cold in their envy.”
“I thought you said this was a good story.” Dusty commented wryly. The driver glanced at him.
“It is a good story. Those Buffalo knew damn well how to spin a good yarn.” The pair looked out at the darkening sky, where stars began to peek out. “Even now the Buffalo say that the stars struggle against their bindin’, so that one day the stars might fall down to our world, and take it for their own.”
Dusty shivered, remembering stories his grandpappy told him on Nightmare Nights long ago.
“Aren’t there stories that say stars helped Nightmare Moon escape her prison?” He asked in a small voice.
The driver laughed loudly. “It’s a campfire story, my colt. Nothing more.”
The train drove on through the desert, chug-a-chugging away. Silently, the stars watched from above, glaring down at the world below. The moon, though fuller and brighter than all the stars in the sky looked like a captive, a prisoner, surrounded by cold angry stars. Quietly, unseen by ponies, birds or beasts, the first star winked out.
One
In another part of the train, one pegasus sprawled out on the thinly padded bench in a small compartment. Magpie Muse was a pony of simple pleasures. She had no qualm with trains, or traveling in a manner most pegasi considered beneath them. In fact, she quite enjoyed the rocking thrum of the engine- while it aggravated most, she found it to be soothing, lulling her to sleep like a gentle thunderstorm. Feathers bristled as the blue-grey pony shifted her position once again. She considered herself a pony easily satisfied by things. This rickety bench wasn’t one of them. Muse could feel the nails beneath the sad excuse of a cushion. Her muscles were becoming bunched and stiff, and with a sigh, she sat up, pressing her forehead against the cool pane of glass. The moonlit landscape buzzed by, too fast to properly absorb anything memorable. Her short, asymmetric cerulean mane fell across her amber eyes, looking tousled from her attempt to sleep. Thinking of sleep, and how much she wished she was having it, Muse yawned, stretching her limbs. She was petite, and where most pegasi were long and muscled, she had gentle curves. Stretching her wingspan showed it to be far less impressive than the wingspans of more athletic members of her kind.
The compartment door opened suddenly, and Magpie looked up as a thin, gangly looking unicorn darted in. The buttermilk unicorn closed the door, her back to the pegasus. Her mane was a dark, deep purple and may have been curly, if it wasn’t swept back into a tight bun. A few pale mint-green streaks stood out in the mane. The pony’s thin frame held an overstuffed saddlebag- by some sort of miracle, which for the moment obscured her cutiemark. Magpie watched the unicorn for a moment, waiting to be noticed. When it was clear that the intruder was oblivious, she coughed, quietly. Pale ears twitched, but the stranger seemed fixated on staring out of the small glass pane on the door. Curiosity stoked, Magpie straightened, and after a moment called out to the unicorn.
“Hey?” The thin pony swiveled around, revealing a pair of sharp, rose eyes glaring behind the half moon glasses which balanced on her square muzzle.
“Who are you?” The unicorn bristled in surprise, giving Magpie a suspicious look. The pegasus offered a smile in return, unfazed by the rude attitude. Muse lived in Manehattan- she knew how to cope with irritable ponies.
“Magpie Muse.” She answered. The unicorn eyed the other pony with obvious discomfort, muttering to herself quietly. Muse’s muzzle wrinkled at the haughty creature. Manners didn’t go far with this one. The pegasus felt her wings tighten up against her sides in annoyance. Well, Magpie tried to keep an open mind, but the way this pale pony was acting was testament to the stereotype that unicorn are all uppity little –
“I guess this is alright.” The unicorn finally burst out, levitating her bags to the overhead. Her eyes fixed on Muse again.
“I normally don’t like traveling with strangers.”
“I’m not a stranger.”
“….What?”
The unicorn’s ears twitched as she regarded Muse carefully. Her lips pursed together, the unicorn obviously trying (with increasing frustration) to place Muse’s face.
“I introduced myself. I can’t be a stranger if you know my name.” The pegasus smirked, a little proud of herself for the quip. The stranger considered the sentiment carefully, looking somewhat disgruntled by the chipper pony. To Muse’s shock, the pony relaxed, a tiny smile forming as the unicorn offered a hoof.
“I’m Ivory Spire.” She said. The blue-grey pegasus blinked, eying the unicorn’s off-white body.
“…Ivory?” Muse pursed her lips together in scrutiny. “You know, you look more…creamy.”
The smile vanished, replaced with a tired scowl worn with the ease of years of practice.
“My parents thought they were funny.” Ivory grumbled under her breath as she hopped onto the bench opposite to Magpie. The unicorn hesitated, trying to subtly check out the pegasus’ flank. The blue-grey pony stifled a snicker at the attempt. Some ponies were so awkward about checking a new pony for their mark. Magpie imagined putting cutie marks on the flank of ponies must have been quite amusing for the Creator.
“…You aren’t a weather pony?” Ivory asked, sounding surprised. Now it was Muse’s turn to look disgruntled.
“Yeah, because all pegasi are into weather control, just like you must be some research egghead judging from the horn on your face.” Magpie snapped, fluttering her wings.
“I am.”
“What?”
“I work for the museum in Trottingham.” The unicorn’s matter-of-fact statement kicked all the air out of Muse’s snark.
The two sat in silence, avoiding each others' gaze.
“Oh.” Muttered the blue pony.
“An archivist, really. It’s. Quite egghead-y.”
“…Oh.” Muse cringed inwardly. Talk about hoof in mouth. What was she even doing, using egghead as an insult? Her cheeks burned with shame. She was no rough-talking pegasus from the clouds. Her cutie mark, proudly worn, was a silver quill in the shape of a question mark, hovering over a black inkblot. Who was she to call names? The train rattled on in spite of the tense stillness of the pair.
“I like books.” Muse said suddenly, defensively.
“I’m sure.”
“No, really, I write.”
“Books?” The voice held a note of cautious interest.
“Well. No.”
“…” The unicorn risked a sidelong glance at Magpie, before looking back out the window. “…I see.”
“I write plays.” Celestia damn it all, why couldn’t Muse just top talking. She wasn’t even trying now. The pony just sat with her head buried in her hooves as she blabbered uncontrollably. Finally the conversation seemed to have died, mercifully. The two stared out the windows beside them, determined to ignore the other pony in the compartment. Magpie shifted, settling down, trying to nod off. Still, something itched in the back of her head. No, she told herself firmly while fidgeting in the awful seat. No more talking. She sighed audibly, earning another look from Ivory. Their eyes met, and then quickly fixated on something else. The itch nagged.
“It’s a form of writing.” Muse shot out loudly. The noise surprised both ponies. Ivory gave her a wide, startled look. Muse groaned inwardly, but still gave the unicorn an admonishing glare. “They- they aren’t books, of course. But they’re still writing.”
“What are you talking about?” Ivory asked, looking lost and baffled. Magpie puffed herself up.
“Plays. You write them. Just like books.”
The two stared at each other.
“What. Don’t you like plays?” Muse demanded in a quavering voice, unable to let her tirade die quietly now that Ivory’s scrutiny was upon her. The stare continued, each desperate for the exchange to end. Finally Ivory spoke.
“Uhm. Sorry?”
They eyed each other, testing if the apology was satisfactory. Finally they both sat back and blinked. Embarrassed, Muse laid down, moving until her back was to the unicorn.
Eventually, Magpie sighed, hearing the soft, heavy breathing of a pony fast asleep. She rested her head against the pane sleepily. It had been a long day for her. All she wanted was just a few blissful hours to get well-needed sleep. Blearily, her amber eyes looked up at the stars overhead. Funny, she thought as she snuggled into a tight ball, she thought there were supposed to be more stars visible in the countryside. This time she closed her eyes, and willed herself to sleep.
The dark sky overhead watched the train as it chugged across the desert. The air was still, the animals had stayed in their dens this night. They could sense the foreboding nature of the stars tonight. Equestria’s creatures shuddered, their eyes instinctively avoiding the sky, as another star winked out.
Muse was woken by a distant scream. Her eyes began to crack open, the young pegasus barely having a moment before being bombarded by the red lights and the acrid smell of smoke. Muse smacked her lips together, her mouth full of the coppery taste of blood. Her head was pounding. Everything felt like it was in slow motion. As she tried to move her heavy head, her vision blurred, jagged and confused. She looked up to see the bench she had been sleeping on before. Beneath her she felt broken glass. Confused, she lifted her head, and distantly became aware that sometime during the trip the ceiling had become the floor. She stared at the lantern beside her, spilling oil and flame. It used to be harmlessly dangling above her.
BAM.
Muse’s world tipped upside down as the carriage once again went tumbling over and over with sudden force. There was the horrific screech of metal tearing apart, and the screams of ponies. The tiny compartment was washed in heat and flickering orange light from fire. The pegasus stumbled to her feet, looking for an exit. Her ears flattened against the sounds of terror-filled ponies, fighting against the panic rising in her chest. Smoke filled the compartment full of broken glass and splintered wood. Glass? Magpie started, heading to one of the shattered windows. The pony stuck her head out the tiny window. It’d be a tight fit, but she’d risk a few bruises and scrapes to get out of this train. The pony put a hoof on the edge and struggled to lift her way out. In return, Muse felt a stabbing pain, and screaming, she fell back to the floor. Shards of glass pierced her front hoof and her sides, blood leaking out freely. Whimpering, she sat back and raised her hoof to her mouth. Her teeth clamped on the largest shard in her hoof, and eyes watering, Muse pulled the piece out, letting it drop to her hooves. The pony let out a single shaky whine of pain, then quickly plucked the rest of the glass from her hoof. The bitter taste of blood filled her mouth. The grinding sound of something within the train collapsing brought the pegasus back to the need of an escape route. The glass in her side would have to wait. Tenderly, the pony put pressure on her injured hoof, whimpering at the pain. Muse cursed herself, too foolish and eager to check for glass.
She stumbled over to where the door had been, only to find a wall. The pegasus stared at it blankly, scraping at the wall with her good hoof. Something touched her back leg and Magpie, wings unfurling, leapt into the air in fear. She looked down at the cream colored unicorn, lying crumpled on the floor in a puddle of blood. Ivory looked at the pegasus, and pointed up. Magpie followed her gaze, and blushed to see the door just above her. Right. She’d been running on the ceiling. The pegasus poised to take off, and froze, landing back on the ground.
“Oh Tartarus.” Muse looked back at the larger pony. The unicorn avoided her gaze weakly. The blue pony bit her lip. She couldn’t just leave Ivory to die.
“Can you move?” The pegasus asked. Ivory looked back at Magpie’s question in confusion.
“What?”
“Good enough.” Magpie moved closer, wrapping her front legs around the unicorn’s midsection. Her wings spread out and began flapping, straining against the weight. The cabin around them gave a sudden lurch. The pair dropped back to the ground as the door splintered and shot off its hinges. A stallion, his fur possibly white beneath the blood and the ash and the scarlet burns covering his body, fell to the ground still shrieking in panic, his wings flared out, singed and smoking slightly.
“Please, please, help me. H-Help me!” The pegasus quivered, crawling towards the two on bleeding stumps. Muse cringed away, the smell of burning hair suffocating her. She watched the stallion crawl towards them, eyes fixated on the sight of his front legs, ending in ragged stumps of meat at the knees. Every time he moved, she could see more blood pulse out of his stumps, and the more he crawled the more his body became slick with his own blood. Instead of gagging, or screaming, or fleeing the horrific sight, Muse simply stared, shock giving her a numbed edge. Where were his legs? She wondered. What was happening? Why didn’t he stop crawling? He had wings after all. Then, an idea stuck her, clicking into place solidly.
“Can you fly?” She asked, approaching the pony. Perhaps, with this pegasus’ help, all three could escape from the wreckage. Two sets of wings, a unicorn’s magic, that had to be enough to fly to the nearest emergency exit, force it open and spill out into the clean, safe air. It would work. They would live.
“Don’t let them take me.” The whispers came out ragged, flecks of blood dribbling past the pegasus’ lips. “Don’t let them…”
Muse frowned, moving closer, coughing in the haze of smoke.
“Hey, hey, calm down. We’re getting out of here. W-What’s your name?” She asked, tying to sound nice and calm but instead feeling gruff and pushy. She could smell his blood, and his skin cooking from the burns. Her fur everywhere bristled nervously. She felt a cautious tap from her left.
“M-Magpie.” Ivory whispered in a high pitched whisper that sang with fear. “M-M-Magpie. The door. The door.”
The blue pegasus looked back at Ivory, glimpsing her wide eyes and her ears flattened against the unicorn’s skull. Then she followed the unicorn’s gaze to the doorway. Muse froze, seized with sudden alarm. Creeping, slithering past the doorway into their cabin was a large scarlet tentacle, flesh ugly and mottled. It was covered in bumps and scars, and moved like a hideous snake. It felt its way down the wall towards the ponies, searching for something warm and wriggling to snatch up as a prize. The unsettling thing moved at a slow, confident pace of a predator, old to the game of the hunt. Whatever the appendage belonged to, it was used to methodically searching for its cowering prey. Instead of suckers, Muse could see a flash of long, black barbs every time the tentacle adjusted its course. She shivered, understanding where the stallion’s legs went.
“M-Magpie.” Ivory’s voice warbled uncertainly. “W-What?”
The injured pegasus noticed the sudden change in the room and he turned slightly, looking past him. Then the stallion screamed.
“TAKE ME WITH YOU. HELP ME.” He shrieked, flopping and crawling towards the mares. The tentacle’s slow crawl stopped and it shot towards the sound and movement. There was a sickening squelch as the barbs sank into the screaming stallion’s flesh. The fleshy arm began dragging its prey back out of the door.
“YOU BITCHES! CELESTIA DAMN YOU. YOU STUPID FUCKING-“ The insults were pierced by a gurgling howl as the tentacle rippled and squeezed. Bones crunched and snapped, followed by the slippery sound of the pony’s intestines spilling to the ground. A spray of blood coated the cabin and a dull, meaty thud sounded as the pegasus’ bottom half fell to the ground. Muse finally saw the stallion’s cutie mark: a filing cabinet. He must have been an incredibly boring pony, Muse thought as she stared at the pile of ragged flesh, organs spilling out and cracked, ugly bones peaking through. The stench of death and feces made the air even harder to breathe in. Ivory finally snapped, a scream breaking out of her muzzle. Two more scarlet, growth covered arms appeared at the doorway, bobbing there as if listening.
“RUN.” Muse snapped out of her frozen state. She rammed her head into the unicorn’s side, forcing Ivory’s hooves to move toward the window. Glass or not, this was it. The lankier pony struggled, straining to fit through the small window. Tears sprang from Muse’s eyes as she struggled to shove Ivory through. Out of the corner of her eyes she saw the tentacle crawling towards them. She got the dark sense that Something was playing with the mares. Her breath came out in fearful whinnies. Finally Ivory’s legs went through and Muse dove though the window after them. Ivory seemed to have regained enough of her senses to wrap Muse’s hooves in green light and try to help levitate her out.
“Hurry Muse.” Ivory grunted. “They’re coming. They’re-“
Muse glanced over her shoulder, hesitating in fear as she saw the muscles in the closest tentacle ripple, like a snake coiling before it strikes. The hesitation was a mistake. She saw a flash, and then felt pain as the barbs struck her skin.
“Ivory!” She yelped, straining against her captor. Ivory straightened; her heart pounding as her magic wavered. She wrapped a shard of glass in her magic and with as much force as she had in her, stabbed in into the tentacle. It recoiled in pain, releasing the pegasus, who screwed up her face and forced her way through the rest of the window. The pair leapt off the edge of the train and as soon as their hooves found dirt, they ran. Screams followed them as they fled into the desert.
Suddenly during their running, Ivory stopped. Muse slowed, and turned to console the unicorn. She too, felt like crying. But the unicorn wasn’t crying. The pony was instead staring up at the sky in horror.
“Muse.”
“We can’t stop, Ivory, we need to keep running.”
“Muse, look at the sky.”
The pegasus sighed and looked up.
“…Where are the stars?” She asked.
The sky above them was black and empty, save for a shining moon beaming down at them. The nominally guiding night sky was suddenly a silent void that seemed to suck the light out of the tiny world it enveloped. Muse shivered as a stiff breeze blew through her coat, ruffling her feathers.
“What’s happening?” She whispered to Ivory. The two exchanged glances, and then looked back at the wreckage of the train. In the distance, the gutted train glowed orange from the fire. Screams still sounded from the survivors still fighting back death. Towering above the carcass of the train, obscured by the thick smoke to the air, the ponies saw several huge beasts ripping the carriages apart. Where Muse reckoned a head should be, she glimpsed the familiar movement of tentacles.
There was a pregnant pause between the mares. Quietly, they both remembered the other passengers who had given them a nod, a smile, a pleasant greeting. Somewhere in the wreckage, some of them were still alive. If the two were heroes, they would save the other passengers; the mares, the foals, everypony.
They glanced at each other, Muse feeling a leaden weight in her heart as they each reached the same conclusion. The two mares, still bleeding and singed from fire, turned and ran.
Two
“Did they come from the Everfree forest?” asked Muse while she hunched over, letting Ivory pick glass out of her sides. Ivory hesitated, biting her lip as she worked a piece of glass out. The pegasus squeaked, and cringed a bit. The piece made an innocent tinkle as it was tossed in a dark corner of the cave they had found shelter in. It turns out, running blindly though the desert had been a terrible idea. Once the adrenaline faded, the exertion made their injuries even worse. After realizing they were in the middle of a desert without aid, The mares found, and squirmed into a narrow cave opening, and there, they tried to regroup.
“Not likely.” Ivory replied. “The Princesses wouldn’t let those things exist in Equestria.”
“Tartarus then?” returned Muse. The unicorn’s ears flicked, uncertainly. She gave Muse a once over, and nudged her, signaling that the last of the glass was removed.
“How would Tartarus get opened though? The Princesses wouldn’t let that happen…Especially Princess Twilight.” Ivory bit her lip again after finishing her thought. Silence fell between them. Nothing about this evening seemed like something the Princesses would allow if they were able to do anything about it.
“This is really bad then.” Muse stated, sitting up a little. Her back leg that was attacked by the tentacles stung, but there wasn’t much to do about it. It looked like she was going to be exercising her wings for awhile.
“Maybe a dark mage opened Tartarus.” Ivory whimpered. “Wide enough to let those things out. I bet the Princesses are working it out now. By morning, everything will be okay. Those things will be back in Tartarus.”
“But what about the stars?” The pegasus looked towards the crack of a cave opening where they could see a sliver of the empty sky.
“M-Maybe the Night Princess is redecorating the sky.” The mare’s voice wavered, struggling to find a mental footing.
“Luna can’t move the stars. The Maker made them for navigation.” She rolled her eyes at the unicorn irritably. Little pegasi learned that tale before they could fly. Ivory stamped her hoof.
“I suppose you know everything about the Princess. You’re best friends, right?” The unicorn snorted, nerves fraying.
Muse shut her mouth, holding back the wave of petty retorts. The other mare was close to a breakdown. The pegasus stayed quiet, waiting for her indignation to simmer down.
“What do we do, then?” She asked. Ivory glanced at her from the corner she had retreated to. The pony looked at the dirt silently.
“We wait here. The Princesses will work it out. They always do.”
The two ponies curled up as silence settled between them. Muse stared out at the black night. Wait for the Princesses. She had to admit, it was reasonable. It’s what everyone did, really. It had been well over sixty years since the ascension of Princess Twilight, and the return of the Night Princess. Together, Princesses Celestia, Luna and Twilight vanquished nearly every evil thing to creep into Equestria. They were incredibly powerful, astonishingly good and devoted to the ponies they ruled. And until the past few decades, the Heroes of Equestria, five mares who adventured and fought with Princess Twilight, helped protect the kingdom. That was well in the past though. Muse remembered when she was a little filly, all the pegasi in the land wept at the funeral of one of the Heroes; 'The greatest pegasus to live-' Muse’s father had muttered, switching off the broadcast. ‘A world without rainbows’ the newspapers had cried. It had been a long time before the weather pegasi let rainbows appear. Except on the anniversary of her death. As a quiet reminder of the race’s love for their hero.
Equestria today was low on heroes.
Muse thought that maybe, one of the original Heroes still lived, somewhere. She couldn’t remember who, off the top of her head. And really, did it matter? A creaky, old pony wouldn’t stand a chance against those tentacles.
The pegasus sighed and rolled onto her back, staring at the cave’s ceiling absently. She had never slept in a cave before. Normally, the opportunity would be met with a sense of excitement and adventure. Magpie loved collecting experiences. Surely experience in a cave would vitalize something in her storytelling. Add some fresh detail. Sniffing the air, Muse closed her eyes as she took in the stagnant, moist air. There was an earthy musk of lichen and mold, and mud, an underneath that, the scent of sulfur. She could hear the lonely drip-drops of water from stalactites hitting the cave floor. The pony curled up tighter, her honey colored eyes looking back into the darkness of the cave. For awhile, she was silent.
“Ivory?” She called. Silence. Muse’s nerves rattled in distress. She got up and took a few steps towards Ivory’s corner, calling louder. “Ivory!”
“What.” The tired growl made Muse smile. The pegasus folded her wings.
“I was worried something got you.” She whispered apologetically. There was silence again in Ivory’s corner. Had she fallen asleep? Or was the unicorn disgruntled by Muse’s concern?
“Well.” Ivory’s voice started hesitantly. “I’m fine.”
The two settled back down, trying to find the spots they had already warmed with their bodies. After a moment, Ivory called out, quietly. “What did you want, anyway?”
Muse stretched, looking around the cave again. “I was wondering if you reckoned we might be in a Diamond Dog cave.” She replied, resting her head on her folded forelegs. “I don’t know the difference, if there is one.”
A green light filled the cave, emanating from the unicorn’s horn. Ivory stood and looked around unsteadily, checking for lurking Diamond Dogs waiting to gobble up the tired ponies. Or worse, Magpie added darkly, the image of the destroyed train stuck in her mind. Screams kept echoing in her ears. Nervously, Ivory crept over towards Muse.
“Maybe. Maybe we should stick close.” The unicorn said, trying to sound matter-of-fact as she settled down beside Muse. “Just in case.”
The presence of another body at Muse’s back comforted the pony with its added warmth. Blearily, she turned her head to watch the cave entrance. Her eyelids grew heavy with every blink, and in a moment, she slipped away from the world.
Light, piercing the darkness of Muse’s dreams, was the thing that finally roused her from a dead-pony’s sleep. She grimaced, moving her head from the blinking light. The next thing she noticed was the dry sandpaper-y feeling in her mouth. She smacked her lips around, trying to wet them, but all that came of it was the uncomfortable feeling that they would need to leave the cave sooner than Ivory thought. Water, the pony thought mournfully.
Sitting up, she stretched her wings, blinking in the light. Then she finally noticed the ponies weren’t alone.
“Luna’s tits.” With a few flaps Muse hovered in the air, staring at the floor in horror. Only patches of the cave floor peeked through the wriggling carpet of slithering horrors. Terror squeezed her heart. Those things from the train. They had found the ponies. The two silly, foolish ponies who thought they could run and hide from such terrible monsters. Any minute now she expected to feel those long barbs pierce her skin like hungry needles, dragging her down to the floor where the mass of scarlet arms would slowly crawly over her, ripping her skin, her muscle, tearing into her bones. Muse’s breath hitched, and even in the dry heat, she trembled, seeing the stallion’s body ripped apart again. She had to go, she had to escape. The pony darted towards the cave entrance, beginning to scramble out of it. Behind her, Ivory screamed. Muse felt a brief pang of guilt. Leaving a pony to die like that… The stallion screamed again in Muse's ears and her nostrils remembered the smell of blood and waste spilling from the body. But it was too late to save the Unicorn now. Muse was pulling herself out of the narrow opening of the cave when Ivory squealed:
“I HATE snakes.” Muse felt Ivory’s bony body slam into her back end. “Let me out, let me OUT!”
The unicorn shoved and the pair tumbled down the hill, landing sprawled out on the sand. Ivory shivered, getting up and shaking herself off.
“Hhhhhhruagh.” She shivered in disgust. “Snakes.”
Muse sat up slowly, avoiding looking at the unicorn. Snakes. Her ear rotated towards the cave, where she heard some vaguely confused and annoyed hissing. Of course it was snakes. Hiding from the desert sun. Her hoof made little circles in the sand. She was just going to abandon Ivory. The pony she saved from the train. The pony who had saved her from the tentacle. How quickly ponies became monsters, Muse berated herself, miserably.
“Muse,” The unicorn started, her rose eyes wide in concern. “Look at the sky.”
Muse looked up, lips parting in surprise. Where there should be a bright blue sky, to see birds singing in, and puffy white clouds drifting it; there was something new. The sky was muted, and had a dull, dirty tint to it. The sun still shone, but its divine brightness appeared to be stifled by something. The air felt still and stagnant. Looking around, the desert had the same muted wash over it. It was absurd, surreal. The world just didn’t change colors. A lump lodged itself in Muse’s throat, and her wings tensed restlessly; wanting to escape. She wanted to fly to run, to find a place safe from the drained looking Equestria. She was afraid, wildly so. The nightmares from last night resurfaced, twisting her stomach into intricate knots.
“You think this is still something from Tartarus?” Muse asked, wrapping her wings tight around her.
“Maybe it’s a spell Princess Twilight cast. She casts a lot of spells.” Ivory whispered, unconvinced by her own suggestion. Muse stood, looking at the ground to avoid staring at the strange sky.
“A spell…yeah, maybe.” She said, doubtfully. They needed to get out of the desert. They needed to find somepony to tell them that the Princesses were on top of it. That Equestria was safe. Muse’s ears flattened to her skull: Equestria was always safe. Always. Yet, now, she felt like a little filly stuck on a wayward cloud by herself, with no ponies or parents in sight.
The pegasus, lifted her head and looked up at the unicorn, wincing at the sight. The pony was streaked with ash, blood and sweat. Her bun had come undone and now her mane fell down in limp, lifeless purple and mint locks that halfheartedly curled at the ends. Half of her forehead was crusted over with blood, and her body was covered in scratches and gouges from the glass. The pegasus must look just as gross. Muse noticed that the unicorn's glasses were still there, though cracked and looking far worse for the wear.
“Can you see okay?” Muse asked in concern. Ivory sighed, removing her glasses.
The unicorn bit her lip, clearly worried. “Things up close are fine. The horizon is one big fog though.”
“I won’t go too far, then.” Muse promised. And she meant it. The pegasus felt responsible for the unicorn, in part for last night, and in part for Muse’s instinctive reaction to leave the unicorn behind. There would be no more of that, she resolved.
“So, what now?” Ivory asked, looking around at the hazy sand-filled wasteland. It seemed to stretch on for miles. Muse tested the pressure on her two bad hooves, whimpering softly at the pain. She’d be flying today. As for where to fly to, Muse ran her dry tongue over the roof of her mouth.
“We need to find water.” She decided. The pegasus looked around, trying to get her bearings. Ivory clued in and also began looking around, carefully.
“There’s a few little clouds up there.” Ivory pointed out. “Why don’t you go fly up there and squeeze some water out.”
Her wings snapped to Muse’s sides in trepidation. Both ponies looked at the sky, considering the idea. Muse didn’t trust it. She felt sure that if she flew up there, the dull sky would strike her down, or burn her; like the old ponytail of a unicorn who tried to touch the sun with gossamer wings.
“I don’t think there are enough clouds to get anything decent.” The pegasus replied hesitantly. It was true, she told herself. Wispy little clouds held little water. Ivory nodded, accepting the answer, and the smaller pony sighed in relief, letting go of the mounting defense she had begun to build in her head. The unicorn squinted, judging the desert quietly.
“We came from that direction.” The unicorn said. She thought a bit longer. Sitting down, Ivory lifted a rock with her magic and made an ugly, rough map of Equestria. “We’re here, in the San Palamino desert”
Ivory added a few lines crossing the map.
“These are the main railroads in Equestria. Now, before we started crossing the desert, we stopped here, in Appleloosa.” She circled a vague area where the city should be. Muse snorted, shaking her head.
“It would take all day to reach Appleloosa. At least.” The pegasus protested. She doubted they’d make it a day in this heat without a drink. Ivory looked up and gave Magpie a very irritated look that was unsettlingly similar to the look teachers reserved for Muse as a filly.
“There’s a river that intersects with Appleloosa, and goes off in this direction…” Ivory gestured. “If we head…that way, you should be able to spot it from the air eventually.”
“Oh.” The pegasus blinked. That was much more reasonable. Ivory nodded to Muse and headed off. With a few flaps, Muse coasted after the unicorn.
“How’d you know all that stuff?” Magpie asked, curiously. “I thought you were a glorified librarian.”
“Last summer I helped archive maps of Equestrian history, at the Trottingham Historical Society.” Ivory answered, beaming a bit. “I guess staring at townships and maps of railroad expansion for hours on end stuck some tidbits in my head.”
“Impressive.” Muse admitted. “I can barely navigate my way out of a paper bag.”
“Some pegasus you are.” Ivory smiled. Magpie harrumphed, ducking her head in annoyance.
“I’m going to fly higher.” She said, though not too high, she added to herself. “Start looking for your river.”
The pegasus paused for a moment, poised to rise into the sky. Hooves dropping to the ground, Muse tipped her head at Ivory. “I wasn’t lying,” She said, uncomfortably. Ivory stared at the pegasus blankly, not comprehending why Muse seemed so nervous and hesitant.
Muse pushed further, “The clouds. I wasn’t lying about them. You know that, right?”
Ivory’s face crinkled into a confused smile.
“Of course?” She replied, eyebrows quirking. Muse sighed, and nodded, then leapt into the air.
The sun beat down on the earth with dry, lip cracking blasts of heat, with an intensity Muse had never really experienced before. The occasional gusts of wind did little to ease the pain. Instead, the wind trickled her salty sweat into the scabs, which stung angrily. Sand blew in her face, coating her sweaty fur with sand, which then dried, and itched. Her hooves be damned, Muse found herself making frequent stops to trot beside Ivory. The pegasus lied and made an excuse about checking on the unicorn, but really, the dehydration was beginning to make it hard to keep going. She wondered if maybe finding in a cave and curling up to die there wouldn’t have been a better choice. Distantly, Muse recollected last night’s cave. It was so cool there, cool and damp. What she would give to be back there, relaxing in the cool mud and-
Muse dropped out of the air.
“Our cave had water in it. I remember hearing it!” Muse exclaimed in a cracking shout. “How stupid-“
“There were snakes all over that cave,” Ivory dismissed airily. “How would we have dealt with them? All for what could have been a couple of gross puddles.”
“It would have been something-“
“Well, the river will be something.”
If we FIND the river, Muse sullenly growled in her mind. If we don’t die here first. Anger fueled her liftoff, which blew sand into Ivory’s eyes. Looking down, Muse glimpsed the unicorn coughing and rubbing at her eyes. The petty act made Muse feel better about their situation. Cheered up, the pony coasted through the air, soaring higher to stare at the horizon. How could Ivory be so airy and quick to dismiss what might have been their only chance of survival? The unicorn’s refusal to acknowledge their dire situation was beginning to dig its way beneath Muse’s skin. Ivory had fallen apart in fear and panic last night, at the fire and the blood and those…things. She only got out because Muse kept it together. Muse shoved the unicorn out the window, kept Ivory running until they were safe. But then as soon as the cave enveloped them, the unicorn started spouting off airy optimisms.
‘Oh the Princesses will save us.’
‘Everything will be fine.’
‘We don’t need the only water we have found in this blistering desert; SNAKES are there.’
What happens if something attacks them? What if monsters return? How was Muse supposed to protect somepony so stupidly blind to why they should be afraid? The pegasus was scared that Ivory’s dismissal of the threats surrounding the two would get the pony killed. Then Muse would be alone, with absolutely nopony else in this desert but flesh-eating monsters that destroy trains. Or worse, what if Ivory snapped to reality when danger was rearing its head, and then she lost it again?
The pony lost herself in quiet frets and fears, running over scenario after scenario. She saw herself in those tentacles being ripped apart in the night again and again, while Ivory cowered in the dirt. She saw them finding salvation at the end of the desert, and then saw the mares dying in the desert, never to be found again. Eventually the morbid imaginings began to unsettle the grey and blue pony, and she looked around the eerie, dim landscape. Find the river, she told herself. Her previous thoughts darkened her mind again with pessimism. Her stomach felt like lead as she scanned the world, preparing for defeat.
Instead, Muse’s jaw dropped.
There it was. Glittering in the distance, a winding streak of blue cutting through the endless sand, the river beckoned Muse to its bosom. All the relief and joy of the sight was snipped short by Muse’s initial reaction. Ivory was right. Airy, frustratingly calm Ivory Spire the librarian was right about the river.
“Celestia’s plot.” The pegasus flapped her wings, reluctant to announce the sight, to reward Ivory’s close-minded actions. She was tempted to not tell, being petty just a little longer. Muse looked down, checking on Ivory. The unicorn trudged forward, her head hanging down. Every once in awhile, she paused, looking around like a nervous rabbit wary of wolves. Ivory might have been able to guess what direction would be the best choice, but without glasses distant things were scary blurs. The mare watched as Ivory squinted up at the sky, looking for her companion. The unicorn’s hope was on Muse. Guilt nibbled at Muse again, and she swooped down. .
“Ivory! The river’s just up ahead.” She exclaimed, as Ivory’s head perked up. “You were right.”
“Really? It’s not a mirage?” The unicorn asked hesitantly. Muse grinned, shaking her head. Ivory returned the smile, a crack of relief ad exhaustion showing on her face. “Thank Celestia. I was starting to worry. I’m so tired…”
“Well, get a move on then, or I'll drink the whole thing before you get a shot.” Muse nudged the pony. Together they trotted the final stretch of angry heat and sand. They smelled the water first. The fresh scent of water and reeds wafted though the air. The sand became mud under their shaky hooves. Muse plunged straight into the water, face first. The water felt better than a healer pony’s magic. The pegasus broke the surface of the water and let out a sigh, swimming along the surface.
Ivory had gotten knee-deep into the water and then collapsed. The unicorn stayed there, soaking in the water with her eyes shut. A couple of relieved tears slipped down the milky pony’s cheeks. Maybe all that optimism was just an attempt to be brave, to keep Ivory from fraying away at the nerves. Except for the snake thing, Muse thought as she prickled, that was just the unicorn being a fussy mare. Muse felt compelled to do something, to try to cheer the unicorn up. To do something normal and not driven by fear of death. Or maybe to simply relax both Ivory and herself. Feeling inspired by the cool water, Magpie drifted towards the unicorn mischievously.
“Don’t.” Ivory opened an eye to watch the approaching mare. Muse flashed a toothy grin, paddling closer. Wet cerulean locks fell in the mare’s face as she glanced at Ivory slyly.
“Don’t what?” Muse asked innocently. The unicorn tipped her head to one side as she regarded Muse.
“Whatever you’re thinking of, featherbrain.”
Grinning, Muse replied. “I’m just makin’ sure my buddy Milky Spire is alright.”
Ivory bristled. “Milky?”
“I mean, we survived the desert, and a cave of eeeevil snakes,“ Muse rolled her eyes, stifling a smile.
“Are you being funny? I’m not laughing.” The haughty unicorn sniffed. Muse gestured at Ivory.
“Mare, you’re such an stiff little egghead. Know what I think?”
Both of Ivory’s ruby eyes were fixated on the pegasus.
“What?”
Muse leaned closer to Ivory. “To cool off.”
“Yeah?” Ivory’s eyes narrowed into a steely. Muse gave an affirmative nod.
“Yup.”
The two mares acted simultaneously. Muse spread her wings and sent a mighty splash of water towards the unicorn who ducked with a squeal and lit up her horn, magically splashing the pegasus. Muse laughed and chased after the unicorn, beating her wings to drench the unicorn. Ivory spluttered, looking even bonier after getting hit by Muse’s wave of water. She glared up at Muse who fluttered in the air. After a moment, a childish grin cracked over Ivory’s face. The next moment her magic splashed water at the pegasus who fell to the river bank and sprinted away from the unicorn.
The pair continued taunting and splashing each other, their shouts and laughter the only sound for miles. For a few moments, the river washed away the nightmares of monsters, and legless stallions, and screams in a burning night. For a few moments, they were just two mares, who found life in the desert, and just wanted to laugh.
The Desert and a Pony With No Name
Three
The battle was fierce, and brutally short.
When the waves receded and the fight was deemed over, it was unclear who the true winner had been. But out of fear that argument would draw out another battle, the enemies shut their mouths and went on their way, afraid of invoking more terrible warfare if they were to continue to insist. Such was the way of war.
Muse took a small drink of water from the river. She wanted to stick her whole head underwater and drink deep, but Ivory warned that drinking too much could make the ponies sick. Downstream, the unicorn was washing the dirt, ash, blood and sweat from her coat and mane. Ivory was doing a much more thorough job than Muse had, the pegasus noted. Partly because of her unicorn magic levitating water to harder to reach areas; but also Ivory seemed much fussier than the other mare. Muse had been content to scrub out the worst of the grime and then hope soaking in the water would get out more caked on stuff.
Magpie Muse found a spot on the sand and stretched out, examining the injury to her front hoof. It was still tender to touch, but at least it wasn’t infected. Sighing, she lowered her hoof and stared out into the desert. She had to admit, there was a flicker of hope in her now, fighting to burn amidst the gnawing worry that plagued the pony.
“So, we can get to Apploosa?” She turned her head to the unicorn.
“The river runs right by it,” Ivory confirmed. “We can just walk along the river.”
The pegasus nodded, standing and stretching her wings.
“Then we should set off.” Her eyes trained on the horizon. “Just in case.”
“I’m telling you, Muse.” The creamy unicorn said walking along the shallows of the river. Muse followed after her, fluttering though the air. Ivory’s face took on a set, determined smile. “We’re going to get to Apploosa, and hear all about the Princesses taking on Tartarus.”
“I bet.” Muse muttered, looking at the sky in concern. No stars. Strange light. Monsters. “Everything will be just fine.”
It was becoming their manta. Muse wasn’t sure she liked that idea.
They ambled along the river. Even Muse was lulled out of her hyper wariness by the presence of the river. The world was at least a little safe now that she knew they had water. Less than an hour after they set out however, Muse began convinced of the possibility that something was in the deeper water of the river. She cajoled and wheedled Ivory, insisting that the unicorn move further from the river. Finally Ivory had to stare the pegasus down, and simply wait for the flighty pony to grumble and take off again.
“I just don’t want you to stumble into trouble while I’m in the air.” Muse complained the next time she landed for a break. Her wings already began to ache. She looked at the sky, judging the time to be mid afternoon. They wouldn’t make it to Apploosa by nightfall. Not unless they turned into a pair of Wonderbolts. Beside her, Ivory sighed, getting accustomed to the non sequitur conversation starters.
“I understand that you’re worried, but really. We live in Equestria. Princess Twilight has spent the past, what, seventy years protecting all of ponykind. Sometimes things have slipped through. But really, have you ever felt unsafe?”
“Yes.” Muse protested. “Last night!”
“So, you were at the epicenter of one of the times things slip through. The Princesses handle this stuff all the-“
“They weren’t from this world!” There, she said it. Muse snorted, walking in silence. Those monsters. Those things, the way they just demolished that train, ripping ponies apart like they were irritating bugs. They weren’t right. Muse had felt it since she first saw them. She felt it when their afterimage burned in the back of Muse’s mind. They just weren’t right.
“Of course they aren’t,” Ivory replied stubbornly. “They’re from Tartarus.”
Muse made a very unpony-like sound, screwing her eyes shut. Exhaling as violently as she could, Muse stalked over to the water to get a drink. After a long drink, she ducked her head underwater, letting her frustration leak out into the water. Ivory nudged her. Muse blew a few angry bubbles and opened her eyes, looking at the little waving underwater plants. She smiled a little, seeing a fish dart by. It must be nice, she thought. Being a simple little fish. Ivory chose that moment to jab her hoof between Muse’s ribs.
“What the buck was that for?” Muse growled, her head jerking out of the water. Ivory said nothing, and instead pointed at a distant cloud of dust head their way.
“Something is coming.” She said, blankly.
The two stared at the dust cloud, Muse’s feathers all tensing and quivering. She took flight, her wings shaky and her heart beginning to erratically thump inside her chest. She shut her eyes, counting to ten. It will be alright, she told herself. They can still run, the pony reminded herself. Now, it was time to focus.
The dust cloud was small, too small for the terrors by the train. It was still moving fast though. Muse doubted they could outrun whatever was headed towards them. She turned, trying to come up with a plan. A small outcrop of rocks stood out in Muse’s mind. They were close to Ivory. If the two could make it to the rocks and find a place to hide, maybe it would pass them by. Invigorated by the plan, Muse returned to the ground, where Ivory was waiting, her face a mask to whatever the pony was thinking.
“It’s small, but fast.” Muse reported. “If we move, we can make it to some rocks-“
“What, you want to hide?” Ivory scoffed. “It could be a rescue squad.”
Muse stared.
“Are you bucking serious?” The pegasus stalked towards Ivory. “We are the only ponies out here who weren’t ripped to shreds
by tentacles and monsters. Did you see anyone else escape that train?”
“No, but-“
“We need to go,” Muse cut the unicorn off, heading towards the outcrop she had seen. Ivory didn’t budge, instead sitting down while shooting Muse a glare. Muse turned, whining in frustration. “Stop being so blind, Ivory. Do you want to die?”
“You’re so worked up about the train, you aren’t thinking.” Ivory snapped. “What if it is somepony? You’d rather run around in a panic than group up with others. Maybe danger is over there, but maybe answers are too.”
“Fine, you really think it’s a pony?” Muse shouted as her amber eyes narrowed into spiteful slits. “Why don’t I just go fly over to the harmless pony?”
Ivory paused, only for a moment. Uncertainty and doubt flickered in her eyes in that moment. Then she tossed her mane back and huffed. “Go ahead. Prove yourself wrong then.”
Muse let out a strangled cry of anger as she kicked off into the air and soared towards the dust cloud. Let Ivory eat her words, Muse thought bitterly. The pegasus hoped Ivory felt awful when the monster inevitably snatched Muse from the sky and plucked off her wings like an insect. Maybe then Ivory would learn about caution and stranger danger. The stupid unicorn would feel so guilty, getting Muse violently killed. The thought of Ivory’s mental torment consoled Muse as she flew towards certain doom.
Below her, the dust cloud had stopped moving. Hovering in the air, Muse squinted, trying to make out a shape in the settling air. A dark, misshapen form sprawled on the sand, motionless. Probably a trap, Muse thought darkly. She looked back towards the river, where Ivory was undoubtedly squinting and struggling to see the action. Muse’s face contorted into a cantankerous scowl. Slowly, the pegasus flew lower, towards the shape. As she drew closer, the mare could smell burnt flesh and blood, making her stomach threaten to expel the precious water inside it. The pony coughed, continuing on. Let Ivory get a taste of fear, the grey pegasus smirked to herself. Muse would just get close enough for the thing to notice her, and then Ivory had to see the monster. Her hooves found the ground, and Magpie blinked in surprise. That wasn’t supposed to happen. She looked at the still form, cautiously. Instead of a monster wriggling to consume her, there was a large, dirty looking stallion, covered in a slippery coat of sweat. Muse stared at the new pony, stunned, taking her several moments to think of helping the stallion. She approached, crouching close to his face, listening to his labored gasps. His body was filthy, and coated in mud and blood. The mare eyed him for a moment, before reaching out and poking him.
“Hey.” Muse whispered. “Are you alive?”
Two green eyes opened, staring up at her.
“W-Water.” The stallion rasped. That was enough for Muse. She wriggled beneath one of his forelegs and stood, trying to guide him to his hooves. Groggily, the stallion reacted, getting up and stumbling along. The small pegasus wobbled back to the river, her knees buckling occasionally at the weight. Each time they went down, Muse went back to shoving and prodding the stallion. There was a gnawing feeling in her gut each time he collapsed, terrified that he wouldn’t live. Whoever he was, he’d come so close to the river. He couldn’t die. If he did, it’d be Muse’s fault.
Every time though, those green eyes would open, and he’d stagger back up, fighting for a few more steps. As the pair approached the river, Muse could feel Ivory’s huge eyes on them.
“Shut up.” Muse growled. “Don’t say a thing.”
Ivory took a few steps back, watching as Muse unceremoniously pushed the stallion into the water. He came to with a gasp and a snort, looking around wildly. He paused, looking around at the water and a deep laugh rumbled from the stallion’s chest, full of relief and joy. Ivory and Muse glanced at each other as the stallion drank. They had become three.
The stallion was an earth pony, built tall and solid, with a deep chest and a strong muzzle. What Muse thought had been caked on patches of mud turned out to be dark brown pinto spots over a dusty brown coat. His mane and tail were a dirty blond that fell in a long tousled mess. His cutie mark though… Ivory and Muse huddled together, watching the stallion drink and scrub the grime from his body. Muse’s bright eyes fixated on the stallion’s flank, which might have once been fairly attractive and nice to look at. Now though, his rear was a mangled vision. The fur of his left side was burned away, and the angry red flesh beneath had a rippled, melted look. The stallion had cringed when water touched the burns, but Muse imagined that the water had to relieve something of the pain. The other side was shredded, as though a cheese grater had been taken to it. Ragged strips of bloody flesh hung limply from shallow gouges that erased his cutie mark- his identity from existence.
“I was grabbed by…something. Some monster huge, with- it had tentacles stronger than a pony.” The stallion spoke, his green eyes resting on Muse. The pegasus blushed, looking away. Her expression must have been one of disgust, but the stallion seemed to take it in stride. “I was working on a train…in the conductor’s room, front of the train. The monsters- they, it struck there first. Busted right through the window. The conductor saved me- he shoved me to the side and then they snatched him up. I watched him-“
The stallion lost the ability to make words for a moment, standing and looking down into the swirling water. He shuffled his hooves, kicking up a cloud of mud from the bottom of the river. He cleared his throat and straightened, nodding to himself.
“He was a good pony. A good pony.”
The earth pony lost himself in thoughts again. Ivory and Muse glanced at each other again. Perhaps saving this pony was a bad idea. His injuries rang an alarm in Muse’s head; she had enough to worry about. How was she supposed to address those wounds? She could already smell the wounds festering. They needed to be properly cleaned and dressed. If he collapsed from the injuries, she wouldn’t be able to drag him for long. Then there was the misty-eyed look in his eyes, and the slow, depressed manner of his movements. Muse already had to deal with Ivory’s neurosis; how many other broken ponies could the mare handle?
While Muse was busy evaluating how useful the stallion was to her, Ivory broke away. The light-coated mare approached the stallion, raising a hoof to touch his side. Ivory attempted to smile- though Muse suspected the mare was more used to scowling at ponies from behind books.
“We were on the train too.” Ivory said, her voice strained somewhat. “We were sharing a cabin and…I was awake when it hit. I heard something slam the train off the tracks. I thought it was bandits, or buffalo-“
“An entire tribe of buffalo couldn’t hit a train that hard.” The stallion replied sharply. The pony shook his head, sighing. “No. Those things were bigger than a house. I saw’em rise up. They ripped the conductor carriage right off. The whole thing.”
“How’d you escape?” Ivory asked, her bows furrowing together. Muse straightened, listening with active interest now. The stallion paused, his eyes getting distant, as he spoke slowly.
“I was helping the conductor. He was an old pony, needed some help up front. Then, we noticed the sky. The stars, they were winking out. One by one. He thought it was the Night Princess up to somethin’ but…it was unnatural. I knew it wasn’t Luna. We didn’t know what to do, or who to call for, so we just sat there. Watching the last star go out. And then, They were there. They grabbed the conductor, gutted him and tossed his carcass away. That’s when they ripped the car off the rest of the train. I hit my head, was out for a minute. Next thing I know; is pain. Those barbs digging into my flank. I started kicking, biting, and fighting the damn things. I swung a lit lantern at them, and the tentacle went up along with myself. Must have pissed them off, ‘cause they ripped me out of the train and tossed me away. Once I came to, I headed-“ the stallion paused. “I headed to Appleloosa.”
The earth pony gave Muse a weary smile.
“I wouldn’t have made it if it weren’t for you. I thank you. Both of you. I’ll do anything I can to get you both out of this desert safely.” There was an underlying sincerity in his promise that was a little scary in its intensity. His green eyes were round and grave as he looked at them both like a knight vowing his life for his maiden. Muse felt blood rise to her cheeks and a smile brightened her face.
“Well then, I think we can all rest easier knowing there’s a gallant knight in our party now.” She teased, trotting towards her companions. The earth pony ducked his head, humbly.
“I’m no knight, miss.” He answered. Muse laughed.
“True knights come in all shapes and sizes.” The pegasus said, mocking his gravity. A smile quirked the stallion’s lips, in quiet exasperation.
“Well then, what do I call my maidens fair?” He replied, playing up his new role. Muse offered her hoof.
“Magpie Muse.” The stallion took it, nodding. He looked to Ivory next, taking her hoof.
“Ivory Spire.” The stallion’s spotted face crinkled curiously.
“Ivory?” He questioned, looking at Muse and back to the other mare. “Funny- I took you as more of a buttermilk-“
Ivory’s polite demeanor vanished with a scowl, and the unicorn glowered at the two as Muse struggled to hide her laughter.
“Yeah.” Ivory huffed; finally speaking after the stallion’s worried expression softened her enough to stop her from snarling. “I get that, occasionally.”
The unicorn fumed for a moment longer, before snapping out.
“What do we call you?”
“Dusty.” The stallion smiled, thought this time the sweetness didn’t reach his eyes. Muse thought his eyes for a moment flickered towards his mangled flank. “…Just Dusty, miss.”
The pegasus hid her curiosity in a smile and a playful nudge to Dusty’s ribs.
“Well Ser Dusty, let’s go to Appleloosa.” She gestured to the horizon. “I think we could all use a stronger drink than water.”
“I’ll buy.” Dusty joked, smiling for real this time. Ivory shook her head.
“I have a feeling that pegasus would drink your pockets dry.” The unicorn quipped. Muse drifted in the air above them, grinning devilishly.
“I could certainly drink more than your delicate unicorn senses could comprehend.” She retorted. Ivory’s horn lit up.
“Come down here and say that, featherhead.” The unicorn taunted. Muse stuck out her tongue.
“What are you going to do to me, revoke my library card?”
Dusty chuckled lowly. The mares shared a smile, in higher spirits than they had been in since before the train. They weren’t alone anymore. They were going to Appleloosa. Everything was going to be just fine.
“Nah, my family isn’t a train family.” Dusty was saying as the group walked along. “But I wanted to experience things other than what the family business was all about. I wanted to see what was out there, see what work I could do other than what my cutie mark said I should do.”
The mares looked at him blankly.
“What?” Ivory said, frowning deeply. Dusty continued, choosing his words carefully.
“It didn’t sit right with me- letting my cutie mark determine what work I could do. It might be my destiny, but it doesn’t mean I have to drop everything to do what my destiny says is best for me. I think we ponies take things too literally. Maybe the Creator wanted us to look deeper within ourselves to discover what our cutie marks mean; and more importantly, what else we have in us beyond that.”
Ivory gaped at the stallion.
“But. Our cutie marks are a gift from Princess Celestia- a gift from the energies that surround us all and connect us. Why wouldn’t you do what your special talent is, what your passion is. “
“I don’t believe my mark was what my passion is.”
“What? Of course it was your passion. That’s what a cutie mark IS.” Ivory replied irritably. Dusty sighed, accustomed to the argument.
“Look, I just don’t see why a pony can’t go off and be good at loads of things. It doesn’t have to be your special talent for you to be good at it.” He explained, trying a new angle. Ivory shook her head.
“If the Princess could hear you.” She grumbled, shaking her head. An unreadable look crept over Dusty’s face for a moment. Muse landed between the two, before he could finish thinking up his retort.
“You’re part mustang, aren’t you?” Muse asked him, deftly changing the topic. Dusty looked surprised. The pegasus smiled and nodded at his pinto coat.
“Only ponies with mustang blood have spots, right? Besides, it sounds like you’re echoing some of their stories about the Creator.” She explained, before adding dryly. “Stories are a part of my special talent.”
Ivory shook her head.
“Aren’t mustangs just earth ponies who lived in the desert?” She asked, in confusion. Muse and Dusty both shook their heads.
“Mustang history is obscure, but there are a few legends about where they came from.” Dusty said. “All that is known for sure, is that they’re separated from the Creator’s energy.”
The cogs in Ivory’s head clicked together.
“…Meaning?” She asked, her nose wrinkling in thought.
“They don’t always have cutie marks.” Muse interjected. “They’re…tainted. Not pure pony. So, the connection they have to the Princesses and the Creator is diminished.”
She glanced at Dusty. “... Sorry.”
He shook his head.
“Nah, no need to apologize. It’s been explained in crueler ways.”
“I’ve never really heard much about mustangs.” Ivory admitted apologetically. “I’d only seen pictures of famous mustangs in history books. They don’t come to Trottingham often.”
“Not since a mustang colt was murdered by a hate group.” Dusty said a tinge of bitterness in his voice. The mares looked at him, shocked. “It was ages ago. Still, mustangs remember.”
He looked at the two mares, who still looked disconcerted and appalled. The stallion smiled softly.
“The Princesses protect Equestria from evil, but still cannot fathom how to protect others from the evil lurking within their precious little ponies.” He quoted. Muse frowned, the quote niggling at her, though she couldn’t place it. The trio walked in silence for awhile, nopony quite sure of how to move past the unfortunate conversation and the idea that ponies could be villains. After a few minutes of silence, Muse took to the air again, and Ivory shrank back, eventually trailing behind Dusty. Dusty’s words continued to make Muse feel guilty somehow. Ponies weren’t evil, she thought. There weren’t hate groups. Whatever Dusty thought about Trottingham was biased and clearly slanted in favor of making it seem as though mustangs were prejudiced against. Muse argued against that notion; after all, Since the Zebra Proclamation by Princess Twilight forty years ago, all non-ponies could own property and were considered citizens on the same level of ponykind. How could Dusty say mustangs were treated unfairly? It wasn’t ponies’ fault that mustangs had a bad reputation. Maybe if the ancient mustang tribes had been nicer-
No. Muse shook her head clear of those thoughts. She didn’t think that was the right way to think. But what was? The pegasus groaned internally, her head throbbing. She needed a break; a hot bath. A long hot bath with steam rising and foamy scented bubbles covering everything. And then a massage, done by talented hooves and a heavily alcoholic cider. Everything just needed to stop.
The off-colored sun began to dip down behind the swath of desert landscape ahead of them. The night sky started to peek through the sun’s final rays, inky and empty. The stars refused to appear. Looking down, she saw Ivory and Dusty beginning to settle in beneath a formation of rocks that provided slight shelter. The stallion looked up at Muse and signaled for her to land. As she reached the ground, Muse discovered that Ivory and Dusty had resumed bantering over his theological musings.
“So where do you call home when you aren’t blaspheming the Princesses?” The unicorn asked, laying down with her forelegs crossed. The stallion grinned.
“Oh. I say blasphemies at home too.” Dusty pulled out a bundle of tubers tied together with reeds, passing it to Muse. She saw two other bundles in front of both Ivory and Dusty.
“I recognized these. Some-somepony showed them to me once.” He said. “It’s food.”
“Was Buttermilk here prying out an origin story from our knight?” Muse smirked, settling down between the two. Dusty let a low chortle escape.
“Only after we hear yours.” He answered smoothly. The pegasus hesitated, swallowing the roots she had shoveled into her famished mouth. They were earthy and tart, but not the worst thing she had bitten into.
“Mine’s easy,” She dismissed. “I’m from Cloudsdale, originally. My dad was a factory repair-pony. My mom was in weather control. She was a quality inspector, so we traveled a lot. We’d go to local sites of weather control; and she’d inspect them, and make them more efficient. Bring them up to speed on changes made to protocol. I moved to Manehattan after finishing basic school. My folks weren’t too happy. I wouldn’t even agree to live in the local Cloudsdale branch of Manehattan that hovers above the city. I wanted to be in the city. Breathe in the dirt and grime and hardship. I knew what my passion was. Experiencing everything out there, weathering the worst life can hurl in your face- I was meant to see all of it, collect all of it. And create stories from it.” Muse paused, sighing wistfully. “So that’s what I do. I write stories, I perform them, and I collect them.”
Ivory looked up from her supper, eying the pegasus skeptically. “Are you any good?”
“Any good? I’m bucking good!” Muse shot back, her feathers bristling defensively. Ivory arched an eyebrow.
“Okay, prove it.” The unicorn pursed her lips together. “Tell us a story.”
Muse sucked in her cheeks, thinking. She had a good head for stories, for collecting them by ear or by page. She had myths from ancient ponies, tales from the griffons, and from beyond Equestria; not to mention original gems that slumbered in her mind. Chewing the inside of her cheek in absent thought, the mare nodded slowly, choosing a legend told by ponies long since dead:
“When Equestria was still young, and ponykind still infants to the world, great beasts of myth and monsters of Tartarus ruled the lands.” Muse’s voice lowered to a smooth, velvety tone that warmed the ears of the ponies listening to her. “The weather was wild and uncontrolled, and the sun and the moon fought each other in the sky, leaving no room for night or day. One of the greatest creatures from that time was the windigo stallion, Sleipnir. He was a gleaming stallion with sinewy legs and golden hooves that outpaced the speed of thought and the stretch of time. He was the whistling wind that rustled through trees, and was so swift he could travel the world in a breath.”
Her hoof etched out a vague illustration as she spoke. The lines in the sand twinkled in the dimming light, and seemed to breathe with life. The more Muse's companions looked at the etchings in the sand, the more they appeared to twist with vitality at every word Muse let flow past her lips.
“Sleipnir was boastful of his speed. He would often trot through the manes of ponies, his words wafting in the wind. ‘I am truly greatest of creation.’ He bragged. ‘Find a pony who can outpace me once and I’ll give him my golden hooves. Find a pony that can outpace my twice, I’ll teach him how to reach the land of the dead and if he outpaces me thrice, I’ll teach him how to return.’
Word came to Sleipnir one day as he was tickling the hairs of foals that a pony had taken up his challenge. Sleipnir laughed, hearing that it was a simple earth pony. ‘I expected a unicorn to try to trick me with their magic, or a pegasus to challenge me through the air. But a mud pony? What can he do?’ So Sleipnir invited the pony to his home, and made a feast to honor the challenger. The mud pony arrived, covered in garb. ‘To hide his shame upon defeat’ crowed Sleipnir. The pony said nothing in return.
The next morning, Sleipnir awoke to find the pony waiting in the fields.
‘The ocean is to the east,’ The windigo challenged. “Beat me to it and back, and the first of my prizes will be yours.”
The pony, still covered in cloth, said nothing. Sleipnir smiled, confident of his victory over this mute mudpony.
‘Why don’t you have a headstart?” The stallion offered. The pony bowed. And then began to run, long legs skirting over the grass and hardly touching the green blades. Sleipnir watched the pony disappear in the distant and noted that truly, he was the fastest mudpony Sleipnir had espied. The windigo felt uneasy, and without further pause, raced after the pony. He reached the salty air of the ocean in a heartbeat, and galloped back to his home, cackling with confidence. As he approached his home, his servants raced towards him, trembling with fear.
‘Do not fret,’ Sleipnir assured them ‘I’ll go find the brave fool and save him from exhaustion.’
Wordlessly, the servants pointed, and there was the hooded pony, kneeling respectfully at Sleipnir’s arrival.
‘He cheated! He double-backed when my back was to him!’ cried Sleipnir. The servants all protested, and pointed to the mudpony again. The mysterious pony withdrew a pink shell from his folds of cloth and dropped in before Sleipnir. It still smelled of the sea. Fuming, and foaming with rage, Sleipnir relinquished his golden hooves.
The next morning, Sleipnir awoke and again the pony waited for him.
‘You cannot trick me today!’ snarled the great stallion. ‘You will have no headstart today.’
The pony bowed.
‘Bring a snowflake fresh from the peak of the mountains to the north back to this spot before me, and you’ll have the second of my prizes.’
The windigo hardly finished his sentence before bolting off, leaving the pony behind. Sleipnir reached the mountaintop and plucked a snowflake from the air, and headed back to his abode. ‘There’s no trace of the oafish pony. He must have tuckered out and quit long ago.’ He laughed all the way to his home.
There was silence greeting him at the gate.
‘Where are my servants?’ the stallion bellowed. ‘Why are they not serving me drink and praise for finally ridding myself of that mute oaf?”
He entered his hall, and the windigo found the cloaked pony waiting for him, kneeling respectfully. A glistening snowflake was in the mudpony’s hooves. This strange pony had already taken Sleipnir’s magic hooves. The windigo suddenly feared the loss of all his secrets that made him mighty. Hastily, he spoke:
‘You can have your promised gift if you like. Or- or, beat me one last time, and I’ll give you anything you desire.’ The pony bowed, in agreement.
The third morning, Sleipnir was up before the mysterious pony, having spent the night scheming.
‘Without my hooves, I have been handicapped.’ He complained. ‘It is only fair that you too have a handicap.’
He produced a long, heavy chain.
‘You are a mudpony, how about you pull something? Are you as strong as you are fast?’
The masked pony nodded, silently.
‘Then pull the sun.’ Sleipnir challenged. ‘Pull the sun around the world before I can, and I will give you anything in your heart you desire. But! If I win, I too get to have anything I want.’
This pony’s head on a pike danced in the windigo’s eyes. The mudpony bowed, lowering his head. The heavy chains wrapped around the pony’s chest, and the pony’s muscles strained against them, the weight of the sun holding him back. Finally, Sleipnir felt that he would best this irritating pony. The race began and Sleipnir bolted though the air, looking back to see the pony’s hooves digging into the dirt and he pulled against the sun.
Partway around the world, with no sign of the cloaked pony, Sleipnir relaxed, letting the current of the air carry him. He imagined returning to his castle to see the pony having failed to take a single step. Sleipnir would kick the damnable pony’s head clean off, and never again would mortal ponies dare challenge the greatest stallion in creation. As he dreamed, Sleipnir felt a ripple of heat prickle over his skin. He looked behind him and started at the sight: Muscles pulsing, rippling beneath the bindings, the cloaked pony galloped across the sea, the sun soaring in the sky behind him. The sun’s heat burned at the cloth covering the mudpony, and it caught fire; making the pony look fiercesome as he bore down upon Sleipnir. The two sprinted neck and neck across sea and plains, The wind chasing the sun across the world. Sleipnir strained, trying to keep his pace with the blazing pony. He turned, looking at the mudpony as the final stretch came upon them. The mortal pony dug in, and with long legs that kissed the ground, pulled ahead of the great windigo. He watched as the sun disappeared ahead of him, helpless to stop the impossible pony. When he finally arrived to his domain, Sleipnir stared at his conqueror.
‘I knew no stallion could best me.’ He said weakly. Still aflame from the glorious sun, a tall and lean mare with a flowing golden mane stood before him.
‘I am Aesif.’ She said, shrugging off the chains. He bowed before her.
‘I will give you anything.’ Sleipnir said, honor bound.
Her eyes blazed.
‘I want your fealty.’ She demanded.
‘Unwaveringly.’ He answered. Aesif stepped closer.
‘I want the sun.’ She commanded. ‘To give my ponies night and day.’
‘Only you are beautiful and fleet enough to guide the sun through the sky.’ Sleipnir agreed. Aesif drew closer, and he could smell her sun-kissed scent.
‘You.’ She whispered. Sleipnir looked up in fear and wonder. ‘I want you.’
‘I’m yours,’ The windigo vowed, his eyes unable to move from the pony. ‘Forever’
And so the fleetest of ponies captured the wind and made him love her. Every day they chased each other across the sky, yearning for one another. Every night they found each other, and Aesif made Sleipnir hers again, and again, until she birthed their offspring: the fleetest and most untamable ponies to roam Equestria. She named her children Mustangs, and let them run free with their father dancing in their manes and their mother guiding the sun to nourish them.”
The starless night bore over the three ponies in full. Ivory and Dusty sat frozen, hypnotized by Muse’s story, her illustrations dancing and writhing in their minds. Muse shut her eyes, and exhaled, her throat feeling rough from use. She got up and walked to the river, taking a few sips. Slowly, her companions came out of their trance. By the time Muse returned, Ivory was blinking around, dazed. Dusty smiled, quietly.
“Oh.” Ivory intoned, vaguely. Muse shrugged.
“The story was on my mind.” She said, glancing over to Dusty. The stallion nodded, appreciatively.
“Stories are your thing,” he agreed, his voice softened with nostalgia. "Not even my mother told that mustang myth that well.
“I could see it all.” Ivory mumbled, shaking her head. Muse laughed and stretched out. "That really is special."
"Only for campfire stories," Muse dismissed with a shrug. Ivory tipped her head, not paying much attention to what the other mare was saying.
"I've never heard of Aesif. Is she some other name for Princess Celestia?" The unicorn asked. Dusty snorted.
"She's a mustang myth, not many pony schools teach those." He said. "But she's definitely not Celestia."
“Be careful, Ser Dusty. You're starting to make Ivory suspect you're a heretic.” Muse teased, watching the two with a relaxed amusement. The pegasus nodded to Ivory’s flank: her cutiemark depicting an opened book with a key fitting into it. “I think it’s your turn now, egghead.”
Muse could see a blush tinge Ivory’s pale cheeks in the night.
“I can’t do anything like that. I’m just a librarian.” Ivory mourned, shaking her head.
“Well, I bet you could catalog a hundred books before we finished a dozen.” Muse smiled encouragingly. Ivory laughed.
“You wouldn’t believe the state I found some archives in.” She said, shaking her head. Dusty tipped his head with interest.
“Archives?” He asked, politely. The mare nodded.
“I helped restore the historical records in various museums and libraries. There was one in Whinnipeg, the mess was dreadful. And some of the documents were left to crumble…”
The mare continued to tell her story, growing more animated and excited at the state her books had been found in. Hair bristled along Muse’s spine and she found her eyes and attention pulled away. A large collection of clouds drifted idly towards the three, moving like a sluggish barge in the sky. It looked crafted, not something wild. Muse got to her hooves, a feeling of familiarity tugging at her senses. It drifted closer. The clouds brought something to the tip of her tongue, but a piece of the puzzle remained unfilled in her head.
“Muse?” Ivory voice came from behind the pegasus. Muse shook her head in disbelief.
“That’s my parent’s neighborhood.” She realized with a sharp inhale. Her amber eyes were wide, dilated in fear. “That’s Cloudsdale. Th-That’s part of Cloudsdale. It broke off…”
The pony took a few steps towards the cloud formation. Her heart pounded in her ears, drowning out her thoughts. Cloudsdale. It was one of the greatest cities in Equestria. One of the oldest cities. Pegasi had used the nomadic city as a homebase since… Since Commander Hurricane. It was built with pegasi magic to resist all sorts of weather. A typhoon couldn’t break the city up, not with all the ponies working up there, keeping it together. Her companions trailed after her in concern.
“Magpie, what are you doing?” Dusty asked in concern as the pegasus’ wings unfurled. She looked back at her companions briefly, brows furrowed together.
“That’s my parent’s neighborhood.” She repeated as though that explained everything. “I. It broke off. Why?”
“Muse, don’t you dare leave us.” Ivory demanded, stepping towards the pegasus nervously. “You promised.”
“It’s my parents…” Muse whispered. And then she leapt into the dark sky, hurling herself towards the clouds. Behind her, Muse heard her friends screaming at her, but she ignored them. Cloudsdale didn’t just break off. Neighborhoods didn’t wander off into the wild.
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...
Sloughing Nightmares and Clicks
Five
Muse quickened, running to catch up with Dusty.
“Hey, wait! Those mounds everywhere. That’s the stuff that was in Cloudsdale.” She said, pointing to the greyish muck which covered the buildings and streets of Appleloosa. Dusty eyed the nearest one hesitantly. Muse followed his gaze, the fear from last night growing inside her. “What are they?”
“I dunno. Let’s find out.” Dusty said. He walked over to a house with a little fenced in garden and unceremoniously bucked down the fence. The stallion made a sharp cry of pain, stifling it quickly. Muse’s eyes went to his injured flank, catching sight of yellow pus and blood leaking from his wounds. Before she could say anything, he picked a piece of the fence up and walked towards the sick-smelling sludge. His eyes narrowed, and the two mares took a step back fearfully. Then he raised his head, aiming. And poked the sludge, piercing the outer membrane and penetrating the thick, squishy substance inside.The stake made contact with something buried within the goop, and Dusty twisted his head, trying to open up the clump. A noxious cloud smelling of bile rose in the air, burning Muse’s nostrils. Something moved inside the sludge.
Muse called out, “Dusty, look out!”
The stallion dropped the stake and hopped back warily. And all three stared in shocked, as rasping and shaking, a mare stumbled out of the sludge. Legs shaking like an unsteady infant, the mare collapsed in the dirt, head lolling to the side. Beneath the slime that matted down her coat, the mare was a golden yellow, with a long green mane that covered her face. Her cutie mark was a pink and white bloom. Dusty let out a sharp inhale.
“Lotus Blossom?” He said with a pained strain to his voice that Muse’s ears recognized as heartache. He moved to the mare, trying to help her up frantically. “Lottie, do you hear me?”
Muse’s ears went flat. “You. You’re from here?”
Dusty gave Muse a guilty look, opening his mouth to speak, but was cut off when the mare slowly got to her hooves. Dusty smiled broadly and he brushed her mane back.
“Lottie, what happened to you? Do you know where everypony is?” He asked. The mare, Lottie, let her head drop, as she coughed and rasped. Dusty looked worried. Finally, she straightened and jerked her hoof clumsily towards a large building Muse assumed was a town hall.
“This way.” Lottie whispered hoarsely. “They are all this way.”
Dusty walked beside her, his attention entirely on the mare beside him. Ivory and Muse glanced at each other and then back at the sludge.
“What is it?” Muse wondered, approaching it. Her snout wrinkled at the pungent smell still rising from it. “Ugh, that stuff is vile.”
Ivory frowned.
“It could be like a Changeling chrysalis.” The unicorn purported. ”They incapacitate their victims in pods so they can become them…but it doesn’t explain the smell.”
“Muse! Ivory!” Dusty called them over. The two left the sludge and ran after the stallion. He stood in front of the town hall. Lottie was beside him, her mane still covering her face. Dusty’s face was bright and relieved and he was practically prancing in eagerness.
“Lottie says everypony is safe. Creatures attacked, but they holed up in the town hall.”
Muse frowned. “What happened to her?”
“She was knocked out and coated in the slime by the creatures to eat her after she suffocated.” Dusty explained quickly, his eyes going to Lottie who jerked her head in an affirmative nod. Muse shook her head.
“Creatures? What creatures?" Ivory inquired in alarm, her eyes squinting as she looked around the buildings.
"If she was knocked out, then how does she know where everypony is?” Muse asked as she eyed Lottie suspiciously. The mare’s head twitched in Muse’s direction and the pegasus’ skin crawled. Dusty frowned.
“It’s not that hard to guess where ponies would find shelter.“
“But you said-“
Ivory mumbled beside Muse. “The cocoon smelled like bile. Bile is-“
“Please.” Lottie rasped. She coughed dryly and took an unsteady step towards Muse. “Please come and help. We need your help.”
“Help with what-“ Muse started to ask. Then Lottie coughed again, her mane falling away. A strange bulge moved across the mare’s neck. The pegasus shouted in alarm, shoving the mare away. Lottie stumbled back, her long mane flying in the air, over her shoulder. Ivory and Muse both made sounds of horror, gaping at the pretty pony who stared at them with filmy, dead eyes. A lump moved from her cheek down to her throat.
“Please, help us.” Lottie repeated, walking towards the mares. Dusty followed the mare, worriedly.
“Lottie, Lottie, sweetheart, what’s wrong with your eyes?” He begged her, his voice shaking with doubt. The mare jerked towards the two frightened mares, her mouth dropping open. A hiss emanated from the maw. Then a stick slammed into her face. Muse looked back at Ivory who stood, eyes wide and horn glowing with magic.
“O-O-Oh god.” Ivory began trembling. Muse looked back at Lottie. The stick had ripped open her cheek and embedded itself into the mare’s eyesocket. Dusty moaned in pain, staring at Lottie in shock. The goldenrod mare jerked away, head lolling to the side. The ponies watch as the mare’s face stretched and rippled unnaturally and the stick twisted out and fell to the ground with bits of bone clinging to it. Lottie's head lolled to one side to regard the three others, milky white fluid dribbling out of the empty socket. Something wriggled inside the recess of her socket, and with a plop a round, fat, grey larva fell to the ground.
The larva wriggled around angrily, until Dusty’s hoof slammed down onto it, squishing it into the dirt. The larva didn’t stand a chance, and exploded on contact with the stallion’s powerful hoof. Inky blood pooled from the ragged remains, and stained Dusty’s fetlocks. The earth pony looked like he was about to be sick.
“I’m so sorry, Dusty.” Ivory whimpered, cowering slightly. Dusty looked dazed, and unfocused. He turned back to the mare, heartbreak etched in every movement.
“Lottie.” He breathed, unable to finish processing his thought. The stallion took a few steps away from her, his mouth opening and closing in an attempt to speak. Finding nothing, he just repeated her name. “Lottie…”
Muse’s mind had caught up to the events, and looked at the mare in concern.
“Why was she leading us here?” Muse voiced, taking a step back. Lottie’s head jerked back, and let out a loud, high pitched shriek. In answer, a new nightmare to haunt Muse came crawling out of the town hall.
They were almost pony-sized, and walked on six spiderlike legs, and had insect-esque wings along their grey backs and two angry pincers on their underside. Its entire body was covered in tiny black hairs that quivered slightly. The creatures had a long, reptilian snout filled with ugly, needle like teeth. Multiple black eyes blinked at the ponies hungrily.
Several of the creatures poured out of the town hall and clicked amongst each other. Then at once, they jumped towards the living ponies. One of the creatures lunged towards Muse, who shot into the air, dodging out of the way. Several buzzed after her, taking to the air in pursuit of the pegasus. The thought of the others tore Muse from soaring as fast as she could from the town,and instead she flew towards the ground, hitting it with her hooves running. She couldn’t leave the others. Not this time.
“Dusty!” She screamed. To her left, Ivory scrambled beneath a porch, screaming as the pincers of a couple creatures wriggled and struggled to ensnare her. Dusty blinked, still shocked. He stared at Lottie as more larva fell out of her distorted, wriggling body as she jerked her hooves up and slammed into the stallion. A creature slammed into Muse and the pegasus fell back, screaming and bucking at the pincers, trying to avoid getting caught by them. “Dusty, help!”
The pincers snapped at Muse and the creature snarled, twisting around to bite at the pony. Muse punched the snout away, screaming in fright. The bristling black hairs on the creature’s body were rough, and poked at Muse’s skin. A pincer cut the pony’s cheek, hot blood spilling into Muse's eye and blinding her. Muse wriggled desperately, flapping her wings in a blind panic, beating at the monster with them ineffectively. Muse heard the creature make a few growling clicks and its head twisted back to snap at her wings. A couple feathers were caught by the long maw and Muse screamed as they were ripped out. The creature crumpled suddenly, flying off the trapped pony. Dusty’s face appeared above Muse. His eyes were red from tears.
“Come on, we have to run.” He said. The stallion grabbed her and hoisted her up. The pair ran towards Ivory, dodging and bucking creatures out of the way. Dusty shouldered Muse to the ground as she slid in the dust as the stallion bucked a monster out of the air and kicked it into another. The tangled monsters snarled and fought against each other as Muse hopped to her feet and ran after Dusty. Muse glanced towards the town hall, where a couple creatures were whistling and clicking over a crushed, trampled stain on the steps of the town hall. She caught a glimpse of green and goldenrod, before Dusty directed Muse to scurry under the porch and shove and shaking unicorn out of hiding. Muse crouched and crawled towards Ivory. Overhead the hissing beasts were chewing through the wooden stairs, ripping out chunks of wood as their pincers grabbed at the creamy pony who was sniffling and crying pathetically. Muse reached out a hoof and prodded the unicorn into opening her eyes which. Ivory’s rose eyes widened and she threw her long arms around the pegasus.
“You came back.” Ivory whimpered in relief. Dusty kicked and trampled down the creatures by the porch until there was a satisfying crack. Then the two mares squirmed out of the porch, and the three ran down the streets, Dusty leading them through the town. He flew up a set of stairs and threw open a door. The mares dived in and he slammed it shut, the powerful stallion effortlessly shoving a nearby dresser in front of the door.
There was silence, other than the panting and gasping of three frightened ponies. There was a low buzz of creatures flying towards the house and the ponies pressed against the walls, listening. Ivory bit her foreleg to stifle her whimpers. Time edged on. The creatures passed the house by, and after several minutes of silence, Muse let herself exhale. The tension in the room relaxed and the three stood, surveying their surroundings. It was a very rustic house. Wood beams went across the ceiling. The floor was decorated with homey rugs laid out over wood flooring. The walls were covered with pictures and framed dried flowers laid out decoratively. Muse glanced over and saw Dusty looking around the house sadly, and suddenly remembered to be annoyed at him.
“So is this a neighbor’s house?” Muse shot, glaring over at Dusty, who cringed. He said nothing, walking further into the house. His back legs limped slightly, trading the weight back and forth.Dusty limped back to the mares, tossing a saddlebag on the ground, alongside a small square first aid kit. The saddlebags were a soft, well-worn leather, emblazoned with a red apple that had a star cut out of it. The box was covered in red fabric, a set of snaps keeping it shut. The top of the box had a white cross with a red heart inside it.
“We need to grab everything we can carry.” Dusty was saying, as he peered out the window. “And then we need to get out of this town. Everypony here is gone, or worse.”
“Not before we bandage you up.” Ivory protested. Muse glanced back at the two. The unicorn had a point. Dusty’s crusted over scabs had broken, and more blood and pus was leaking from them. The wounds were red and angry and looked puffy with infection.
“Ivory’s right.” Muse agreed. “You need attention.”
Dusty’s face hardened into a mulish look of protest, but before he could argue, Ivory’s horn lit up and began lifting things out of the kit. She opened a bottle of clear fluid and drizzled it on the wound. Dusty’s eyes shut and he hissed in pain as the liquid fizzed over his wounds.
“Don’t…Don’t use it all on me.” He muttered to the unicorn, grumpily. Ivory didn’t respond, her mouth set into a concentrated frown as she magically sifted through tubes and bottles. Muse turned away from the pair, feeling nauseated by the smell of blood and chemicals mixing together. Instead she began examining the house, her eyes drifting over the framed pictures idly. After a moment she noticed something odd about the photos, or rather, something special. She stared at the flanks for a moment, before turning her head.
“This is an Apple family house!” She exclaimed, grabbing a photo and trotting over to the others. “Look, it’s a picture with Apple...Applesnack...or-” Muse stared at the orange mare in the photo, trying to remember the name.
“Applejack?” Ivory’s voice rose with excitement. The mare stopped looking at her work to peer at the photo. “One of the heroes of Equestria that fought with Princess Twilight? Isn’t she still alive somewhere?”
“Oh right,” Muse remembered. “Yeah, I think she’s the one still alive.”
“You’re from here- have you ever met her?” Ivory asked Dusty curiously. The stallion cringed, trying to look back at Ivory to supervise her attempt at nursing. Ivory glanced back at her ministrations, which had become her inattentively jabbing an ointment-covered cotton ball onto Dusty’s wounds. She blushed slightly, and refocused her attention. Muse continued to watch Dusty, waiting for an answer inquisitively. The stallion’s ears flattened as he spoke, his voice carrying a slight edge to it.
“Er, yeah, maybe once or twice.” His eyes glanced back at Muse. “Go put that back, will you? Stop nosing around somepony’s home.”
Muse sighed, moving to replace the photo on the table. She looked at it, the smiling blonde pony cheek-to-cheek with a green-eyed stallion holding a hammer in his mouth. Braeburn, she realized, recalling the statue in the town. The vest and hat were the same, minus the sheriff’s star. The pegasus hesitated, staring at the stallion. Something about those green eyes seemed familiar. Her senses buzzing, Muse looked at the photos on the wall more closely, watching the generations of Apples grow up and grow old through the wooden frames. Then she came across a photo with a brown earth pony with a blond mane. His cutie mark was an apple with a star cut into it. Beside him was a colt, and a mare, who was unmistakably a mustang. Her white body was covered with rust-colored spots and her braided mane was a deep red. The colt beaming between them had a dusty colored coat with mud colored spots, and huge green eyes. Muse gasped. Grabbing the photo, Muse flew back to the two just as Ivory was tying off fresh bandages around Dusty’s flank. The pegasus dutifully ignored the two faintly embarrassed looking ponies and displayed the photo.
“Are you an Apple?” She demanded, shoving the photo at the stallion. He looked at the photo for a moment, smiling a little in nostalgia. The smile drooped however, and his eyes filled with sorrow the longer he looked at it. Dusty pushed the photo away.
“I don’t like talking about my family.” He sighed. Ivory and Muse watched him incredulously.
“Why the buck not?” Muse probed further. “Your family is-“
Something clicked together in Muse’s mind, making a hollow and metal ‘thunk’ like a lock snapping shut. Family. Cloudsdale. Muse saw in her mind two clumps of sludge in her parent's house that suddenly seemed horrifically pony shaped. A hundred realizations swarmed her mind, overloading her until the mare felt flushed and her blood pumped loudly in her ears. Muse scrambled towards the window, knees buckling, and eyes staring out at the empty night sky.
“Those things could fly.” She whispered. “They took Cloudsdale. They took it. I have to go, I-“
She skittered towards the door, throwing herself at the dresser in a desperate attempt to push it away. The pegasus kicked and flailed as Ivory and Dusty tried to grapple her, the two shouting over Muse’s yelps.
“They could still be okay!” Muse screamed, fighting against her companions. Her hooves made small dents in the wood of the dresser as she attacked it. “I can save them, let me go, I can save them!”
Her wings flapped furiously, beating at the two ponies holding her back. Ivory’s bony body dug into Muse’s side. Dusty grabbed Muse’s tail and pulled, trying to keep her back. Muse bucked, and squirmed, splintering the wooden dresser in a mad escape attempt. Behind her, there was a shattering sound of glass breaking and clinking to the floor. Ivory screamed. Muse could hear the buzz of angry wings. Ivory was suddenly wrenched away from Muse, and the mare fell to the ground, twisting to stand. As she turned, she could see several of the creatures swarming over her friends. Ivory’s milky limbs disappeared as the creatures pulled her out of the window they broke through. Ivory clung to the windowsill, screaming out, her eyes locked on Muse. Then she slipped, and lost her grip, and the hissing and clicking monsters carried her away.
“Muse!” Dusty commanded the mare’s attention as he bucked and fought off the beasts. “Run, Muse!”
The creatures he had just bucked off all pounced on him at once, a splash of blood staining the wooden floor. Muse trembled, watching Dusty fall to the ground. Then she turned, and ran. Up the stairs and down the hall she flew, running into a bedroom and wrenching open the closet. Muse buried herself deep inside the closet, shaking like a leaf in the darkness. The mare shoved a hoof into her mouth as she tried to stifle her ragged breaths, choked out by sobs. She left them. She left them.
Over and over again, Muse saw Ivory’s disappearing face, full of terror. Dusty collapsing. Muse’s hooves running. She left them to die. The only friends she had. Magpie Muse was a coward. She had failed. Muse had sworn to keep Ivory safe. She had made the deal with herself to look out for her companions. And Muse, in the end, let them die so that she could have a few minutes more to life. Tears stained her cheeks as the pony rocked back and forth. She should go after them. Muse should try to save them. Or at least, Muse should die with them. But she couldn’t. The pony was frozen in the enclosed, dark space of the closet. She couldn’t bring herself to leave.
“I’m so sorry. I’m so…” Muse sniffled to herself, eyes closing. Then she paused, and sniffed the air carefully. Filling the air, was the sweet, and noxious smell of vomit. Her heart stopped.
Above her, Muse heard a quiet hiss.
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