Treasure in the West

Chapters

Two - The Adventurer
Three - Attributes of an Archeologist
Four - Chamber the Cartridge
Five - Right Outside
Six - Showdown at Final Chance
Seven - The Meaning of Trust
Eight - Discoveries and Revelations
Nine - Past Meets Present
Ten - Both Sides of the Coin
Eleven - Raider of Tombs
Twelve - The Infamous Legacy
Thirteen - A Little Miracle
One - The Riflepony
Afterword

Two - The Adventurer

The sun had started to set outside the range's windows, an orange glow illuminating the clouds and the land below. Every single target had been torn to shreds from the multitude of rounds they had been struck with. Braeburn put the old Marechester down on the bench, careful not to touch the heated metal. The end of the barrel still poured out a billow of smoke, filling the air with the acrid smell of gunpowder. He and Applejack let out a sigh of content, tired from the afternoon of shooting. Braeburn's shoulder felt like it had been bucked several times, which wasn't a far cry from what really caused it. The cold floor was littered with brass shells, emptied of their powder and bullets. The two swept them into a large bucket, saving them for their little value. Brass was a metal that Bullet Tyme had always brought to the local refinery in exchange for their weight in bits. They didn't bring back much, but it did reimburse a quarter the cost of a box of cartridges. These days, even the small amounts of money the family could scrape up was good enough.

"Ah hope Pa doesn't mind how much ammunition we used," Braeburn said, packing away what they hadn't fired.

"Nah. Ah don't think he'll care as long as ya' go along with this shootin' thing," the orange mare replied as she sat up on the table. Braeburn chuckled as he gazed at the intricate etching on Thumper's receiver.

"You will go along with it...right?"

The cowpony gave his cousin an odd look. "Ya' sound like ya' want me to keep at it."

"Well why not?" Applejack replied. "Yer good at it. Yer really good at it. And if the farm doesn't work ou-"

Applejack stopped herself, realizing that her thoughts had been voiced. She threw a hoof over her mouth, her emerald eyes wide. Braeburn whipped his head around at the mare, his expression taken aback. He opened his mouth to retort, but then found himself closing it, his gaze lowering to the floor. "Oh, no Brae Ah'm sorry! Ah shouldn't of-"

"Naw AJ, yer right," Braeburn sighed. "This has been a great day and all, but Ah need'ta be realistic. The farm can't keep goin' without no income. If this can have a chance o' bringin' in bits, then Ah'll have ta' do it. Those competitions here and in other towns deal out plenty, even in third place."

Applejack shifted awkwardly, slumping atop the table. As harsh as they were, his cousin's words were undoubtedly true. Even if he was unsure about the idea, Braeburn thanked Celestia that he had a way to help the farm. But then again, the next contest wasn't for another few months, when Summer ended and the heat died down. Would they be able to make it until then? There wasn't a way to be sure. If not, then how would they be able to survive without any income? A wave of hopelessness crashed upon his mind, forcing the beige stallion to his haunches.

As soon as he hit the concrete floor, the door to the range opened. Bullet Tyme poked his head through the opening, giving his son a sly look.

"Hey there riflepony!" he said with a grin. "You didn't tell me you were expecting a mare ta' come over."

Braeburn cocked an eyebrow, standing back up immediately.

"Pfft, what?!" Applejack exclaimed, snickering quietly to herself. Braeburn ignored her.

"What're ya' talkin' about Pa?" he asked curiously. Bullet only widened his grin.

"You don't have ta' pretend with me boy. If ya' got a marefriend then good for you!"

"Pa, Ah don't know what yer talkin' about," Braeburn repeated, bewildered. His father laughed, obviously not giving his son's words any thought.

"Okay, okay. Whatever ya' say son. Just get in the livin' room when yer done."

Bullet Tyme left the room, leaving a stunned Braeburn to furrow his brow in confusion. The beige stallion turned to Applejack, whom merely shrugged with a strained smile. Who would be looking for him? His thoughts were quelled once he saw that his cousin was still suppressing a laugh.

"What is so darn funny?"

"N-Nothin, Cuz," she giggled.

"Is it really that hard to imagine me havin' a marefriend?"

"Pffffft, kinda," she snickered. "Well let's go see this mare o' yers."

"Applejack!"

The orange mare only replied with another laugh, exiting the gun range. Braeburn groaned silently to himself. He followed her through the door, wondering what kind of mare needed to see him of all ponies.

Braeburn rubbed his sore shoulder as he crossed the threshold into the living room, right behind Applejack. The entire way he couldn't help but feel apprehensive about who wanted to meet with him. He may have been excitable when meeting new ponies arriving in Appleloosa, but the stallion never found himself going out of his way to make any long-time friends. Braeburn never gave the thought of friendship much time before. He was a farmpony, he simply didn't have the time. Perhaps that was why the stallion found himself overjoyed whenever he met new ponies, or even when his family visited the dusty settlement. It was a lonely life, residing in such a small, remote area. But in the end, it was where he belonged.

Braeburn felt his neck snap to attention when he saw their guest. Standing next to Bullet Tyme in the middle of the living room was pegasus mare that he immediately recognized, but couldn't believe was actually standing there. A dark yellow coat, the cutie mark of a compass rose, a mane and tail a veritable spectrum of grays and black, all contrasted by her large magenta eyes. The beige cowpony gaped at the mare, whom returned his gaze with a polite smile.

He had recently been introduced to the world of books, and was intrigued by a certain adventure series, featuring a protagonist that was always illustrated on the cover. This pegasus didn't just match the description, she was the description. His father gave the stallion a covert grin, exiting the room quietly.

"Hello there," she greeted brightly. "I assume you're Braeburn."

The cowpony shifted his eyes to his cousin, whom was only giving the mare an inquisitive look. Their guest tilted her head slightly.

"Annnd I guess you've read the books," she noted with the ghost of a crestfallen expression.

"W-Wait," Braeburn stammered. "Yer...Yer Daring Do!"

Applejack's eyes widened in sudden realization. "That's where Ah know ya' from! A friend o' mine in Ponyville reads yer books!" she exclaimed. "Hold on a second, yer real?!"

The mare nodded slightly. Braeburn couldn't believe it. He had read her books several times, but never once did he find a note that said 'based on a true story.' Daring Do was known as a fictitious character, not a real pony. So what in Equestria was she doing, simply existing here? How had he never heard of her before? The stallion's previous question now only burned hotter in his mind: What did this mare want with him?

"Well, kind of," answered Daring before turning back to Braeburn. "I can explain all of that. Maybe we should sit down. I'm sure you'll want to hear the whole thing."

"Yeah Ah think we would," said Braeburn. He gestured to his father's sitting chair politely, and the pegasus sat after removing her traveling cloak and saddlebags. He expected to see her trademark forest-green pocketed shirt, but was somehow surprised to see it gone along with her pith helmet. Braeburn and Applejack slowly sat back on the couch, trying not to blankly stare at her.

Bullet Tyme returned into the room, with a mug of cold cider. "Thought you'd want something ta' drink. It's a mite hot out there."

"Oh, thanks," Daring murmured as she accepted the drink, taking an eager gulp. Wherever she had come from, the pegasus looked as if she had been awake for days. Braeburn hadn't noticed it before, but their guest looked completely fatigued. Her eyes bore dark circles under them, their lids low. Even the way she held herself seemed exhausted. Daring slumped into the chair, obviously reveling in its unparalleled comfort. Before he knew it she had drained the mug, placing it on the coffee table between them. Braeburn's father had left the room without a word again, heading down the hall and into the gun range.

"Are y'alright there, um...Daring? Ya' look tired," Applejack asked with an air of concern.

"Yeah I'm fine, thank you," Daring replied. "Well anyway Braeburn, I'm sure you're wondering what I'm doing here. But before I get to that, I should explain my...well, existence."

"Uhm, yeah. That'd be just dandy," he replied softly.

"I'm actually an archeologist," she started, slowly leaning forward with her elbows resting on her knees. "I won't bother with the details, but I'll tell you the gist of it. My team and I began our first expedition years ago, to find the tomb of the Sapphire Statue. Before we were credited by the museum we brought the treasure back to, a publicist contacted me about a book series for colts and fillies. While I didn't want my name and work to be presented in such a way, my team's funds were low. We had so many more journeys to make all over the world, but we didn't have the money. Eventually I conceded to the idea. Due to the author's...extravagant nature of writing, I asked for the series to be described as fictional. Sure, our names were never up in lights because of this, but we were able to do what we loved. And to us, it was all that mattered."

"However...there was something that I had overlooked. I never imagined that the series would become such an overnight success. I couldn't show my face anywhere without ponies asking 'why are you dressed like Daring Do,' or 'wow you must be a huge Daring fan.' It was agonizing. Eventually I moved away from Canterlot, where I had previously lived. I left for Dodge Junction, and have been residing there since. It's a small town, nice and far away from everypony who ever even heard of my name. Obviously you two know of the books, and I apologize to tell you of their reality, but I needed to."

"No it's...it's alright," stammered Braeburn, attempting to take in the information. "It's just...wow."

"Yeah," Daring agreed with a halfhearted smile. "So that leads me to my current quest, one that my team has utterly refused to take on due to its unknown nature. Have you two ever heard the tales of Cunning the Colt?"

Braeburn cocked an eyebrow. "Well o' course. Who out West hasn't? He's supposed to be a criminal cowpony that lived hundreds o' years ago. He was said to be arrested after robbing Dodge Junction's town bank. After that he escaped and got in a gun fight with the town's sheriff. In the end he got away with the money, disappearin' into the night. But Cunning's just a folktale."

Daring Do grinned, her previously tired rose eyes blazing with sudden life. "Or was he?"

The pegasus leaned over the arm of the large chair, rummaging through one of her black saddlebags. Braeburn and Applejack exchanged another confused look as Daring pulled out a large, rolled-up expanse of parchment, spreading it out over the empty table. Scrawled across the paper were a plethora of rushed notes, all surrounding a map of Dodge Junction and the desert circling its borders. Several X's had been marked in seemingly random points of the town, a few bearing arrows leading to some of the notes, illegible due to their horrid quill-work. Braeburn had guessed that Daring was able to read them, evidently being the pony who wrote them. The pegasus had grown visibly excited, as if she were about to reveal something huge.

"Now naturally, you don't get as far as I have in my field without hearing every bit of folktale in Equestria. But one in particular has always interested me: The Colt of the West. What was so intriguing about the story was how detailed it was. Normally tales like this are short, vague and generally have some sort of lesson to learn from them, right? Well not in this one. While you were correct about Cunning's story Braeburn, there were a few things that you didn't mention, such as the specific chain of events that led to his escape."

Daring was right. He had heard the story told a hundred times in his life, having moved from Dodge Junction almost three years ago to help establish the new town of Appleloosa. But never was The Colt of the West told consistently. Every pony seemed to have heard about Cunning the Colt in a slightly different way, but never had Braeburn put much thought into it, for he knew it to be fiction. But then again, he thought Daring Do to be fictitious as well.

"Let's run through them," Daring continued, indicating the bank on the map with a hoof. "He starts out at the bank, as said in the tale, takes the money and then is immediately arrested. Now how did that happen? While the story that took place in Dodge Junction is of course the most well-known, it wasn't Cunning's only alleged robbery. He was said to be a legendary criminal, evading the law in every town he plundered, right? So why was Dodge Junction so special? Cunning had fooled other ponies of the law many a time before, so how was he stopped here? I'll tell you why; because he wanted to get caught."

"Okay, now this story's gettin' a little farfetched, if ya' don't mind me sayin'," Applejack said once the pegasus paused. Braeburn shared her skepticism. So far Daring Do hadn't shown them any sort of proof that Cunning the Colt was indeed a real pony. However, that excited, restless gaze in her rose eyes kept his attention.

"Oh, it get's better," Daring assured with a grin. "Cunning the Colt would have been a household name by this time, if all of his exploits had truly occurred. He would have known of his fame, so maybe he wanted to leave something behind, something that would make his mark generations after his time. Why do I say this? Because of what I found in the jail."

Daring trailed her hoof over to the crude drawing of Dodge Junction's small prison, right next to the sheriff's office on the Northwest corner of the map. "Thankfully each cell was empty, and the warden granted me permission to investigate them. I wanted to see if Cunning had left something behind that would have proved his existence. Each brick and floorboard has been untouched since the town was founded over three-hundred years ago. At first glance everything seemed normal, but I had a hunch that one of those rooms held something hidden. It took hours, but eventually I stepped on the only creaky floorboard in the entire building. It was in the corner of the last cell. Curious, I knelt down and prodded the ancient wood. It was loose. I forced it out and inspected it, finding this carved into the corner."

Daring Do pointed to a note, connected to the drawing of the jail with an arrow. It looked as if she had tried to copy another pony's quill-work. The sentence was simple, and looked as if it were carved into the paper with a dull knife:

Find my legacy. One of Three: The last place you'd expect. -C.T.C. Braeburn's eyebrows shot up, the coat on the back of his neck standing on end.

"His legacy; his treasure," Daring said. "One of three; the first of three clues. The last place you'd expect; where the second clue is. C.T.C.; Cunning. The. Colt."

"No way," Braeburn breathed. His cousin was speechless, her jaw agape. "Wait, his treasure?"

"Well that's just something to call whatever his 'legacy' is. It's a good motivator," Daring answered, waving a dismissive hoof. "I understand that this is difficult to take in, being raised with the idea of him being a tale, but that isn't the only clue that I found."

"It...It's not?" the orange mare asked, her green eyes widening. Daring Do only smiled at her. She traced a path with her hoof to the next X on the map, marked over a simple square. Applejack furrowed her brow, squinting at the drawing as if it would focus into something more distinctive. "And that there doohickey is...?"

"A house," the pegasus said matter-of-factly. "What? Okay, I never said I was an artist. Anyway, after escaping his imprisonment Cunning was said to have hidden from the law for a day. However, it was never said where he had fled to. That's where the note I found in the jail comes into play. The clue implied that the next step in finding the treasure was in the last place I would expect, so where would that be? I searched tirelessly for days around Dodge Junction, but came up with nothing. But then two nights ago it hit me. Where would be the most obvious place to hide after escaping prison? Somewhere far away right? But we're not looking for the obvious, for it would be against what the clue implied. No, I had to focus my search closer, much closer. Right next to the jail is the sheriff's office, and South of those two buildings are a few houses. There's no way Cunning could have hidden in the sheriff's area, so what if he hid in one of these homes? It would be easy for him to force a family to let him hide in a closet or something. I had to find out, the possibility was just too great.

"That night I asked each of the residents of the three homes to let me investigate every room one house at a time. They were reluctant of course, but eventually I got them to comply. In the second house I found a crawlspace that the current owner didn't even know existed. And again, I found a note carved into a floorboard."

Daring indicated the copied sentence on the side of her map: You're getting closer. Two of Three: Right outside. -C.T.C.

The dark-yellow pegasus sighed. "And this...is where I'm at a loss. Since that night I haven't been able to make heads or tails of this. At first I thought right outside of the house, but again, I found nothing. The clue is just too vague. I mean come on, 'right outside' of what? I realized that I had been at this for a week and needed to let my brain rest, so I took the train here to find you Braeburn."

Braeburn exhaled through his nose, his eyes darting around the map. If these clues really were in these places, then when in history did Cunning the Colt become a folktale? Perhaps after generations of passing the tale along, ponies just started treating it as such. Although, that wasn't the issue that mattered to him.

"Why me?" asked Braeburn suddenly, his curiosity getting the best of him. "Of all ponies, why did you look fer me?"

"Well, as I said, my team refused to take on this expedition," Daring answered promptly. "They said that I was losing it, going after something everypony knew didn't really exist. I've gone into seemingly small journeys alone before, and each time it was a mistake. I've broken my wing, had two concussions and several other small injuries, not to mention on my last expedition I almost lost my life. Don't get me wrong, I've never been afraid of anything. However, I feel that it'd be wise to have a partner this time. I'm not saying that this quest will be dangerous, far from it in fact. Those expeditions were in ancient temples far off the map, and some of the ruins were rigged with deadly booby-traps. This time is different. We're not trekking miles into the jungle to search through a dangerous tomb, just in Dodge Junction. Nice and safe."

"Ah don't mean to be rude, but that doesn't answer my question," the stallion said. "Why me?"

This time Daring took a moment to answer. She went to open her mouth, and then closed it, looking to the floor.

"Because...well...I don't know how to say this but...You actually saved my life."

Braeburn's eyebrows shot to the ceiling. "Come again?"

"Do you remember what you did in Dodge Junction a few months ago?" Daring asked meekly. The beige stallion put a hoof to his chin in concentration. His memory may not have been the best in the world, but the event she was talking about was unforgettable. However, he couldn't recall Daring Do being there at all.

"What is she talking 'bout Brae?" asked Applejack with evident curiosity.

"So...you were there? But how? Ah don't remember even seein' you," Braeburn said, ignoring his cousin. Daring gave him a small smile.

"Oh I was there," she said. "I was the pony you saved that day."

The riflepony felt a shiver trace his spine as his eyes widened in realization. Applejack, however, was more agitated than excited. She let out a hot breath of air through her nose, her brow furrowed in confusion. "Alright, somepony please tell me what's goin' on here."

"I was in the town market shopping, disguised as a withered old mare to deter the looks of any possible fans of the book series. It was before I knew that nopony in the town had even heard of them, but I needed to be sure. Anyway I was looking through a fruit merchant's wares when I heard a gunshot. A masked stallion ran out the door of the saloon that the merchant's stand was next to. He was carrying a rifle on his back and a bag of bits in his teeth. Before I could react, the robber ran right into me, knocking both of us to the ground. The stolen money flew out of his grasp, and he decided to blame me for it. I watched helplessly as the robber pointed his gun at me, hoof on the trigger. But then you came Braeburn. You ran over and tackled that stallion right before he could end my life. You kicked the gun away, and the sheriff arrested him right there. If it weren't for your bravery, I'd be dead and buried right now."

"What?!" Applejack exclaimed, turning to her cousin. "Braeburn...you really did that? Why didn't ya' tell me?"

"That...That was you?" Braeburn asked quietly, still not giving the orange mare's questions any thought.

He remembered the event like it was yesterday. Braeburn was visiting his old home delivering apples to one of their oldest customers. The old stallion was far too frail to make the train ride to Appleloosa, but his large orders for his bakery made the trip worth it. It was the usual monthly ride to Dodge Junction, and nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Of course, that was until he saw a masked criminal pointing a rifle at a helpless old mare on the ground. Braeburn wasn't necessarily a bold pony, but he couldn't bear the thought of standing idly by and letting the defenseless mare die. He had acted purely out of instinct, not bravery. Regardless, he successfully got the weapon out of the robber's hooves. Thankfully the sheriff was already on his way, so Braeburn only had to take a single buck to the chest before the stallion was arrested.

Daring Do must have been quite the master of disguise, for Braeburn had picked what he thought to be a very old mare off the ground. She thanked him gratefully in a convincing voice before the beige stallion left to complete his delivery. Now that he thought about it, Daring's eyes and coat color were exactly the same as the elder mare's. The pegasus wasn't lying, it was her.

"Indeed," Daring answered. "I asked a pony that knew you what your name was, and where you lived. I wanted to find some way to repay you for saving my life, and this treasure seemed like a good way to do it. I've heard of your farm's recent...decline due to this heat wave. You need some way to get by until autumn right? Well I'll tell you what, the museum that I intend to take Cunning the Colt's 'legacy' to will pay me a fortune to find something that everypony thinks is fiction, especially from a tale so well-known. If you help me find the treasure, you can take every bit of pay from the museum. I have no use for it, those books pay me royalties every week. Plus, if any pony deserves that money, it's you Braeburn. It will be more than enough to revive the farm, I can promise you that."

Braeburn felt his mouth fall open slightly. More than enough money to revive the farm? "You'd do that?"

"Of course. Like I said, I owe you for saving my life."

"But Ah was just doin' what anypony else would've done."

"But they didn't. Only you did," Daring said with a grateful smile. "He could have killed you Braeburn, but that didn't stop you. Such selfless acts never get rewarded these days, and I want to change that. Help me find Cunning the Colt's treasure, and you can keep the entirety of the pay. Plus, I've had bushels of apples delivered from here in the past. I can't let such a good business fall because of weather. Say yes Braeburn. Let me repay you."

Braeburn leaned forward with his forelegs crossed over his lap, his eyes on the floor. His immediate response to such a kind offer was to reject it. He couldn't take advantage of Daring's gratitude like this. The pegasus was offering a fortune to simply help her solve a mystery she was already halfway done with. If everything she said was true, then there was no denying it: Cunning the Colt was not only a real pony, but he left behind a treasure.

But on the other hoof, he couldn't afford to not accept her generous offer. Braeburn had said it before; he needed to be realistic. The farm's apples weren't fit to sell, and the next shooting competition wasn't for another few months.

Braeburn looked to Applejack, as if to seek her advice. All he got in return was a look that could have only said: Why haven't you said yes yet? He chuckled quietly at her expression before finally looking back to the pegasus. Daring Do had hope in her eyes, as if her heart longed for him to let her do this.

"Well..." Braeburn exhaled. "Fine. When do we leave?"

Three - Attributes of an Archeologist

After a truly eventful day, the sun had finally set, allowing Luna's moon to cast a pale blue light over Appleloosa. Taking in the beautiful vista, Braeburn laid on his back atop the slightly-angled roof of the small barn home, his forehooves behind his head. On his right was his brown cowpony hat as well as Thumper, sheathed and unloaded. To his left was Applejack, practically mimicking his position with her hindlegs crossed.

Before Daring Do left, she and Braeburn had agreed to meet at Appleloosa's train station in the morning. He couldn't put a hoof on it as to why, but the stallion had never been more excited about anything in his life. Tomorrow he was going to leave for Dodge Junction and find the proof of Cunning the Colt's existence. To think that all these years nopony else had thought of him to be more than a myth, and then a pegasus from Canterlot found his trail. Braeburn couldn't help but wonder what the legendary cowpony had left behind. Was it his personal rifle, or even the gold he stole from Dodge Junction's bank? Fortunately he wouldn't have to wait too long, for if anypony could find Cunning's "legacy," it would be Daring Do.

Ever since Braeburn read the first book in the series, he had wondered what it would be like meeting the bright-eyed pegasus. It was a colt's dream, but somehow her character was simply that intriguing. Perhaps it was merely the writer's skill in portrayal, but the stallion was able to relate to the character on a number of levels. Her craving for adventure, her tenacity and even her pride, something that Braeburn seldom showed. He knew it was just a fictional character in a book meant for readers much younger than him, but he still longed to find a friend with such qualities.

A friend. Braeburn laughed silently to himself at that thought. When was the last time he called a pony that? The cowpony couldn't remember. Ever since he and his family moved away from Dodge Junction, his life had been nothing but work. Three long, grueling years of monotonous apple-bucking and melancholy, leaving no room in his life for the privilege of friendship. Braeburn took pride in his work, but he longed for something more. Had he been destined to only harvest fruits for the rest of life, being born into the Apple Family? Sometimes it certainly felt that way. Ever since he and the other settler ponies founded Appleloosa, Braeburn couldn't even look at the single red apple on his flank. When he first discovered his natural talent in farming, he was extraordinarily happy. But now his cutie mark was a representation of his dilemma, and nothing more. The stallion envied his younger cousin in this manner. She was indeed a farmer like him, but her life was constantly filled with adventure. Not only did she have five best friends willing to do anything for her, but she was also the Element of Honesty, and a hero of Ponyville. Applejack always had something interesting going on, contrary to Braeburn's day-by-day routine. The once ever-jubilant stallion had been reduced to nothing more than a blank canvas craving color.

But then out of the blue, the pony he had always wanted to meet emerged into his life, offering everything he would ever need to make sense of his distraught being. It was just too good to be true. At first Braeburn thought he was dreaming, but then the most amazing day of his life drew on and on. No mere dream could keep pace after this amount of time, at least not one that he ever had.

But then again, what would happen if Daring Do was wrong? How much time could they be wasting when Braeburn could be doing something real to save the farm? The apples were a lost cause until new ones grew, but that wouldn't be for six months. Bullet Tyme had been especially cynical of Daring's story, despite the facts she had presented. Braeburn and Applejack had retold her words to the middle-aged stallion once she left, and his reaction wasn't anywhere near positive. He said that they were wasting their time listening to such farfetched tales. The beige stallion didn't argue with his father, but merely told him that this was the farm's only chance of surviving. He ended the conversation at that, without another word. He hadn't seen Bullet Tyme for the rest of the day after that. His father departed from the home, leaving Braeburn and Applejack to stand meekly in his wake. He suspected that Bullet went to his brother's house in downtown Appleloosa, where he usually went to cool off. It didn't matter to the cowpony, for he now had a way to save his family's business.

"Ah'm a mite sorry Ah have to make ya' go home tomorrow Cuz," said Braeburn.

"Don't be sorry Brae, savin' the farm is more important," Applejack replied matter-of-factly. "Ah can visit ya'll another time. We still had fun today though, right?"

Braeburn smiled, gazing at the starlit sky. "We sure did. Best birthday ever."

Five rounds were slid into Thumper's cartridge gate with natural ease. The riflepony twirled the weapon around his hoof, racking the action in the same motion. The front stock fell into the stallion's right hoof, immediately lining up his shot through the iron sights. The rifle barked with a resounding bang, its projectile shredding an apple into tiny pieces over twenty-five yards away. With unprecedented speed, four more apples exploded from the rounds.

Braeburn exhaled, lowering the rifle. The stallion had only been able to sleep a few hours the night before. He had tossed and turned in his bed, his mind never settling down completely. Thankfully, he didn't feel fatigued in any way. The riflepony ejected the final smoldering shell, flipping it gracefully into the scabbard on his back. He had practiced the motions for the better part of morning, reenacting how his father used to do it. Thumper was like an extension of himself, as if it were a part of his body. Wielding the weapon was unbelievably easy. Perhaps his father was right; shooting was just in his blood. Considering the apples had been rendered useless from the scorching heat wave, they made excellent targets. He set them up in the flat-lands a quarter of a mile behind the farm in order to preserve Applejack's slumber. Although, he wasn't sure if he had been far enough away.

"Holy horseapples!"

Braeburn whipped his head around to find a dark yellow pegasus, clad in her previous cloak and saddlebags. The expression on her face could only be described as priceless. Her jaw hung limply, rose eyes wide in disbelief.

"Daring?" Braeburn asked. "What're ya' doin' here?"

Daring Do collected herself, shaking the awe from her face. "Sorry, I guess I just got excited about this expedition. Anyway, you never told me you were a riflepony!"

"Ah didn't know until yesterday."

The pegasus' jaw dropped again. "You just started shooting yesterday?!"

"Yeah, my Pa says that it runs in the family. Ah reckon he was right," Braeburn said with a humble smile.

"Well it's a darned good thing I hired you then," Daring said, the fleeting ghost of a grin appearing on her lips. "I'm sorry I came by so early. I went to knock on your door but then I heard the shots. I ran over as quickly as I could to make sure nothing was amiss. I'm glad to see I was wrong. Anyway, are you ready to go?"

"Oh. Well Ah gotta see my cousin off. She's been visiting from Ponyville. Ah'd hate to leave without sayin' goodbye," the stallion explained.

"Of course," said the pegasus. "Lead the way."

By nine o' clock in the morning, the train had finally arrived at Appleloosa's station. The doors opened, allowing a few ponies to exit the passenger cars. Most of them were residents of the small town, and the rest were the seldom-seen tourists. Applejack turned to her cousin and Daring Do, the saddlebags on her back filled with unused supplies. Braeburn had given the yellow pegasus his Stetson, its brim shielding her face and mane from a sidelong glance. He didn't want any of the out-of-towners recognizing her and causing a scene, and Daring was grateful for the favor.

"Thanks again fer comin' by cousin Applejack. Ah hope to see ya' soon."

"O' course. Maybe ya'll can come by Ponyville and help with Winter Wrap Up. We seem ta' need more ponies every year," said Applejack with a smile before turning her head to Daring. "And don't worry, Ah won't tell anypony back home 'bout ya'."

Daring grinned from underneath the brim of the over-sized cowpony hat. "I appreciate that. Thank you Applejack."

The orange mare wrapped a foreleg around her cousin, whom returned the favor. She then held up a hoof to Daring, and the pegasus bumped it with her own.

"Ah really do hope yer right Daring," she said. "Farmin' has been in our family fer generations, and Ah can't bear the thought of my uncle's orchard goin' outta business."

"I wouldn't have asked for Braeburn's time if I wasn't absolutely certain about this," the pegasus said with a determined look. "Don't worry Applejack, I will do everything I can to find Cunning's treasure. I won't let your cousin down."

Braeburn was taken aback. Her words were laced with such sincerity, such passion. She truly believed with all of her heart that the treasure was out there, waiting to be uncovered. Her confidence made the riflepony grin like mad. They were really going to do this. Braeburn never felt so sure of the treasure's existence until then.

"Thank ya' kindly D," said Applejack, turning to leave. "Good luck you two. Now go and make history."

"We will," replied Daring.

"Have a safe trip!" Braeburn called after his cousin, whom had boarded the train waving a hoof.

The doors slid shut after everypony else stepped into the passenger cars, and the train blew its whistle, smoke billowing from its stack. The two waved goodbye as the locomotive slowly left the old station, eventually disappearing into the tunnel in the side of a plateau to the East. Braeburn felt his Stetson being placed back atop his head. Daring had to stand on her hindhooves to return the hat before shaking her bangs from her eyes.

"Everypony's gone now," she said, wiping her forehead. "And that thing smells funny."

Braeburn shook his head with a small grin. "S'not that bad."

"Oh, it is," Daring confirmed with a pained look.

Braeburn turned his head at the faint sound of a whistle. From the East came another locomotive, chugging merrily along its tracks. A few minutes later it slowed to a screeching halt on the other side of the station. The short, three-car train faced the desert out West, in the direction of Dodge Junction. Unlike the Eastern train to Ponyville, the West Line was painted a flat black, its features sharp and angular.

Two of the passenger cars' doors slid open, revealing aged, uncomfortable-looking interiors. The conductor stepped out of the old locomotive; an earth stallion that Braeburn failed to recognize. He had a pale gray coat under a beige pocketed vest. His sleek black mane and tail were neatly-combed, free of perspiration despite the sweltering heat. Atop his head was a tan visor, matching his vest. Braeburn guessed him to be at least a few years older than himself, judging by the faint lines under his small blue eyes. The conductor withdrew a golden pocket-watch, flicking it open with his other hoof.

"Appleloosa to Dodge Junction, first call!" he announced to the empty station, his voice loud and prominent.

Daring couldn't have darted across the dock fast enough. She trotted with an excited skip in her step, Braeburn close behind. He adjusted Thumper's leather strap away from his neck as they approached the conductor, whom looked to the pegasus with a level of familiarity.

"Back on the Line already eh?" he chuckled before looking to Braeburn. "And I guess you've found yourself a bodyguard or something?"

"Not exactly," Daring laughed. "Artemis, this is Braeburn."

The gray stallion quickly grabbed the riflepony's hoof, shaking it eagerly. "Good to meet you Brae-Brae. Any friend of Daring is a friend of mine."

Braeburn forced himself not to wince at the nickname, striving to keep to his manners. "Nice to meet ya' too."

"Well do ya' mind opening the door Art? We're kind of in a hurry," Daring interjected, gesturing to the closed caboose at the other end of the train.

"Fine, fine. I can see you've got plans," Artemis said before turning back to the control panel in the conductor's booth. With the flip of a switch, the rear car door slid open. "Okay, there's no other ponies riding, so in you go."

Daring's wings flicked up from underneath her cloak, sending her a few feet into the air. "Full steam ahead then!"

Braeburn smiled at her elation as the pegasus soared into the rear car. Before he could bid farewell to Artemis, the conductor stopped him with a hoof to his shoulder. His expression had shifted from jubilant to serious, his eyes level with the beige stallion's. Braeburn did his best to smile, unsure of the response it would instill.

"Look, I know that it's not any of my business, but what are your intentions with her?"

Braeburn recoiled. "Uh, beg yer pardon?"

"I'm just looking out for her. That mare has had her heart broken too many times now, and I don't want to see it happen again," Artemis spoke in quick, hushed words. Suddenly realizing what he was implying, Braeburn felt his face heat up.

"Oh! No, it's nothing like that partner. I'm just helpin' out a fr...a friend," he stammered, waving a dismissive hoof.

However, that didn't seem to convince the gray stallion. "I know that's what it seems like now, but-"

"Hey Braeburn! Are you coming or what?" Daring called from the caboose of the train.

"He is, just making sure his rifle isn't loaded," Artemis replied. He then turned back to Braeburn. "It's not, is it?"

"N-No sir."

"Good, then get going."

Braeburn awkwardly nodded to Artemis, turning on a hoof toward the rear car. As he walked, his mind raced over the conductor's words. How did he know so much about Daring Do? Granted, the mare was bound to let other ponies know of her existence, that much was inevitable, but this stallion seemed to be much more familiar with her. Was he a relative, and how had Braeburn never met him before? He took the West Line monthly to Dodge Junction, and never did he meet with this new pony.

Braeburn's thoughts ceased once he stepped into the caboose of the train. The interior of the car was the complete opposite of the others he had ridden in, and was lavish by comparison. The floor was covered in a thin burgundy carpet instead of the usual hardwood. The walls were stained a dark brown, its gloss reflecting the soft illumination of the small chandelier hanging from the high ceiling. Two long couches lined both sides of the caboose, a table filled with papers and unused quills between them. On the far wall hung two large maps: one of Equestria and one of Dodge Junction. Both were littered with red tacks, marking certain points of the land. When Braeburn stepped into the car, he felt a rush of unnaturally cool air blowing through his mane. It was like he had stepped out of Summer and into early Spring.

"Like that?" Daring Do asked with a smile. She sat on the far corner of the couch to the right. The pegasus had removed her cloak and her bags, reveling in obvious comfort. "Having your own private car has its perks."

"Yer own car?" Brae repeated, bewildered. "Just how rich are ya'?"

"Pfft. I am not rich," Daring replied with a chuckle. "The Canterlot Museum of Natural History has just been good to me. You know, being its best private contributor. I didn't want to shove it in your face or anything, but I figured you were sick of this heat wave. A little air conditioning is nice in the Summer."

"Well it's much appreciated," Braeburn said sincerely.

He unloaded his saddlebags next to Daring's own, careful to kick his hooves off on the edge of the threshold. It felt like a crime for a workhorse like himself to be riding in such comparative luxury, but he wasn't about to complain either. Braeburn wiped the sweat from his brow as he slumped into the plush couch across from the dark-yellow mare, laying Thumper in its scabbard on his lap. He had never been granted privileges such as this before. The riflepony felt almost out of place as he gazed around the subtle, yet ornate furnishings.

"Ah guess that stallion is a friend o' yers?" he asked, attempting to fill the silence.

"Artemis? Oh yeah. He's actually my godfather," answered Daring, rummaging through a drawer under her couch.

That certainly explained the stallion's protective nature over the pegasus. Braeburn's curiosity clawed at his mind over Artemis' words, but he felt that bringing up such a matter would only give the next few hours an unbearably awkward feel. His relationship with Daring Do was what one would call business-like, not personal friendship. All in all, Braeburn didn't mind, for the reward that this journey presented was too much to let slip by.

However, Braeburn started to feel an odd tension as silence filled the air, despite the fact that Daring had occupied herself in one of the many scrolls that filled the drawer below. He shifted uncomfortably on the couch, wondering how to approach any sort of conversation. Daring Do gave the impression that she kept her personal life to herself. So what would they talk about for the next few hours? The weather or something trivial like that?

"Do you know how big this is?" asked Daring suddenly, catching the stallion off-guard. "To be able to find a treasure that everypony thinks is nonexistent?"

Braeburn exhaled, thankful to be conversing again. "Ah wasn't able to sleep 'cause of it."

Daring smiled, her eyes on the parchment she held in front of her. "Awesome. That means you're going to be a good partner then. A pony tends to worker harder if they're excited. But I guess you already know that, being a farmer and all."

"Ah have to be, the family business depends on it," Braeburn smiled.

Daring seemed interested in that thought, for she had set her notes on the table between them, facing the stallion. She wore an unreadable expression as she crossed her hindlegs. "Has the farm always been like this?"

Braeburn blinked. "Well...no. Ah reckon Appleloosa's only been around fer three years now, and in that time we've had no heat wave like this, but we make do."

"Why don't you have Weather Pegasi out West then?"

"Pegasi don't tend to like the constant heat out here, so none move out to do the job. Besides, we earth ponies are traditional folk, and we get by on our own means," Braeburn explained. "Ah reckon out West you stick out more as a pegasus than Daring Do the story-book hero."

"You're probably right," Daring chuckled before changing the conversation. "So then if you're from the Apple Family, why does your father have a bullet cutie mark?"

Braeburn cocked an eyebrow, unsure of why she was so interested in his family. "Uh, well...My Pa just married into the family Ah guess. His family is full of rifleponies, so Ah guess that's where Ah get it from."

"So can I ask why you wanted to bring that?" Daring asked, gesturing to the rifle across his lap. "You know we're not going to run into monsters or anything like that, right?"

"Ah know," the riflepony sighed. "My Pa said Ah should keep it with me. It's a family heirloom after all. Ah don't like the thought of what this weapon is really made for, but Ah just don't like leavin' it alone."

"He seemed like a pretty nice stallion," Daring commented.

Braeburn scoffed silently. "He can seem like a lot o' things."

"What do you mean by that?" the pegasus asked.

"He..." Braeburn trailed off. "He wasn't exactly delighted to hear that Ah was leaving to help ya' find Cunning's treasure. He said it was just a foal's tale, and that Ah was wastin' my time instead of workin'. My Pa can be pretty bull-headed sometimes."

"So he doesn't believe in Cunning's existence?"

"O' course not. He wasn't there when you showed us the proof."

"But I didn't show you any proof," Daring corrected. Braeburn tilted his head at her. "I told you that I found proof, but never did I put it in front of you. So why do you believe me?"

Braeburn immediately looked down to the rifle in his lap. The question took him by surprise, for he didn't know how to answer it exactly. Why was she asking him this now, while he still had the chance to turn tail and run back home? She must have had a lot of faith in his decision to stay, that much was evident. However, the query wasn't about now, it was about yesterday. Why had he accepted Cunning the Colt to be a real pony so willingly before seeing the clues himself? For all he knew, Daring could have been lying about the whole thing. How did Braeburn even know that her name was really Daring Do? She could have just as easily dyed her mane and tail, making up the story with some kind of ulterior motive. Was the humble farmer really just that desperate to save the farm? This whole endeavor could have been some sort of scam.

"Ah guess Ah just need it to be true," Braeburn sighed, his gaze unfocused on the leather scabbard before him. "Ya' just don't sound like yer lyin'. Everything my family has worked for is about to fall apart, and Ah can't let that happen. Even if yer just a really good actress or somethin', Ah have to believe that this is real. Ah just...Ah just have to."

"Do you know what the best attribute of an archeologist is?" asked Daring as soon as he finished his sentence.

Braeburn looked up to see that the pegasus' rose eyes had erupted with their signature fire. "What?"

"Faith," she said simply. "Sometimes not all of the proof is set before us, so we have to find it. But what gives us the energy to keep driving forward, even when all seems hopeless? Faith. Without it, we wouldn't know of the civilizations from long ago, we wouldn't know where the Sapphire Stone was hidden, and we wouldn't know if The Colt of the West was a true story or not. This is a quality that I'm happy to see in you, Braeburn. The world has stomped on your dreams but you don't let petty things like arrogance or cynicism get in your way. No, instead you look past your troubles and do whatever you can to solve them."

Braeburn found himself speechless as Daring withdrew a tall bottle of dark-yellow liquid from her saddlebags, as well as two empty glasses. The stallion recognized the label, emblazoned with a large red apple and the words, Apple Family Cider: Appleloosan.

"Your father gave this to me. Thought you'd want some so you don't dehydrate."

Braeburn accepted the glass that was poured for him. "That'd be just dandy."

The two drank in silence as the door to the caboose slid closed. Braeburn hadn't noticed that the train was still idling, and that they hadn't left yet. He made a mental note not to consume too much of the cider, for there were no stops between Appleloosa and Dodge Junction. However, Daring didn't seem too worried about the three-hour ride ahead of them. She drained the glass in a single gulp, exhaling loudly as she triumphantly slammed it to the table.

"Seriously, I cannot let you guys go out of business," she said with a grin, which Braeburn returned.

The loud whistle of the old locomotive wailed, and the caboose lurched forward as the train crawled down its tracks. Braeburn turned his head around and gazed out the window, watching the train station as well as Appleloosa slowly fade away in the distance. A few minutes later they reached cruising speed, and the dusty town disappeared over the horizon. It was only then that reality hit him: he was really doing this. He was joining Daring Do in a quest to find Cunning the Colt's treasure. While he worried about leaving his father on a particularly unfavorable note, Braeburn couldn't help but smile at his luck. He was going to save the farm, no matter what tried to stand in his way. He didn't care if his name was on a plaque in some museum. Because deep down, he only wanted to make his family proud.

Four - Chamber the Cartridge

Cactus after cactus flew past the windows of the lavish train car, emphasizing just how slow the time had crawled by. By now the stallion almost wished that he wasn't constantly washed with the cool breeze of the air conditioning, for its comfort had started to lull his mind into a dreary state. The sun-bathed desert outside bore no discerning landmarks, save for the never-ending expanse of sand. The air over the horizon shifted unevenly, distorted from the heat. While he adored the simplicity of the West, he sometimes wished that his surroundings weren't so flat and bleak.

Braeburn forced his tired gaze away from the monotonous view, and shifted it to the rifle that still laid across his lap, his hindhooves resting on the table. While he knew next to nothing regarding the inner-workings of the weapon, he still opened the lever, the bolt sliding back and revealing the inside of the receiver. Bullet Tyme had taught him the names of the major parts in the past, but he never quite knew how it all worked. What he did know was that a gun needed to be cleaned after consecutive uses, and Thumper would require such care right about now. The steel carrier bore a thin black coat of scorched gunpowder, as well as the exposed end of the firing pin. The grease that lubricated each moving part had started to congeal, and could inevitably cause a jam. The riflepony cringed at the thought of such a thing happening in a dire situation, but then forced the unpleasant idea from his mind. He repeated Daring's words in his head five times: We're not trekking miles into the jungle to search through a dangerous tomb, just in Dodge Junction. Nice and safe.

Casting a glance over the unorganized mess of notes, Braeburn watched Daring Do flip through the pages of a rather heavy-looking tome. The edges and corners of the book's cover were ragged and worn, showing what looked like centuries of age. Whatever the book was about, Daring seemed to be pouring herself into it. Unlike his, the pegasus' eyes were bright and focused, as if she had guzzled a fresh pot of coffee. Suddenly her gaze lifted from the withered pages, her eyes concerned.

"Whoa, you don't look so good Brae. Are you feeling alright?"

Braeburn furrowed his brow, his eyelids heavy. "What? Yeah Ah'm fine, why?"

"You just look like you're gonna pass out," Daring replied, closing her book and placing it on the table. "It's gonna be another hour until we get to Dodge, you can sleep if you want."

"Naw. Ah couldn't if Ah tried," the stallion dismissed politely.

Daring attempted a helpful expression. "Maybe conversation will keep you awake then. Why don't you tell me about yourself? I might as well actually know who I'm going to be working with."

"Oh you don't wanna know 'bout that. The life of a workhorse isn't exactly glamorous," he replied sheepishly.

"Well no, not the common one," Daring agreed. "But you seem...well, deeper than that, besides the whole riflepony thing I mean. You come from a pretty interesting family, and your cousin Applejack seems nice enough. So what about you? What are your hobbies? Do you have any dreams for the future? Things like that."

"Ah don't think Ah'm that interesting."

"Humor me."

Braeburn lowered his head in contemplation, unable to think past the query in his mind. Why was Daring Do so interested in him? He had made it perfectly clear that his life had been nothing more than work, so what was she trying to squeeze out of his past? Daring was the pony with the compelling life, one that he was eager to hear about. But in the end, the earth pony could think of no other excuse to thwart her question. She had every right to know more about him, considering the fact that she was going out of her way to repay him for his deed with such a generous offer.

"Well, Ah grew up in Dodge Junction before we founded Appleloosa three years ago," he started, feeling the words come to him as he spoke. "Back then we had a lot more workers. Over the years members of the Apple Family broke off to either work in more comfortable parts of Equestria or do somethin' else all together. Not everypony can handle the work Ah guess. In Dodge we harvested not only apples, but cherries too. Yup, Ah reckon we had some o' our best days there."

"So then why would you leave?" asked Daring. "If Dodge Junction was so profitable I mean."

"That's a mighty fine question," Braeburn replied, feeling himself wake with every word. "Some of the business owners in Dodge wanted to bring in more customers, ponies from outside o' town. But Dodge is a pretty far cry away from the rest of Equestria. Not many ponies wanna make such a long train ride just to buy wares. Our family felt the same way, so we decided to build a new town closer to the rest of civilization, while still bein' near our home. A year later Appleloosa was founded, and everypony gained everything they wanted from it."

When Braeburn felt that he was droning, he looked up to see Daring practically on the edge of her seat, her expression that off a foal listening to her favorite storybook tale.

"And you find that interesting?" he asked.

"Of course," she perked up. "I've always been fascinated by how towns are founded."

"Ya' know this didn't happen hundreds o' years ago right? Appleloosa ain't one o' yer ancient civilizations or nothin'."

Daring let out a sharp breath through her nose. "New or old, it's the same idea. Why is it so hard to believe that an archeologist wants to know about that?"

"Ah guess I've just never had anypony ask about it," he admitted with a shrug.

"Not even a friend?"

That last word instantly forced his eyes away from the pegasus. He looked to the floor, absentmindedly fiddling with the action of his rifle. He loathed how much it effected him, but knew that it was nopony's fault but his own. Daring seemed to immediately grasp his thoughts, her eyes falling as well. Thankfully, she didn't make him feel worse by pressing the matter any further.

"Oh, well...any hobbies?" she asked with a nervous grin. Braeburn only held up Thumper with a meek smile, instilling a horrified look from the pegasus.

"Oh my gosh," she groaned, rubbing her temples. "Really? Jeeze I'm glad I brought you along. Somepony needed to get you outta this funk of yours."

"Heh, that's one way to say it," the stallion agreed. "So what about you Daring? I've been waitin' to hear 'bout your life. Must be quite a job doin' what you do."

"I assure you, it's nothing like the books," Daring said flatly, as if to dismiss the question. However, Braeburn's curiosity positively begged to be satisfied.

"That's why it's so excitin', it's real! Come on now, tell me-" Braeburn was cut off as the train car lurched forward, slowing down as the brakes started to squeal.

Braeburn swore that he saw a look of relief spread across her face as Daring leaped from her couch, looking out his window. The stallion cocked an eyebrow to see a line of buildings on the horizon, growing steadily closer. Had they really been on the train for that long? Perhaps the initial uncomfortable silence had lasted longer than he thought.

"Wow, looks like we were closer than I thought! Awesome!" she exclaimed. With a flash, Daring flew back over the table, rummaging through her saddlebags. Chuckling silently to himself, Braeburn replaced Thumper in its scabbard. He stood up and swung the weapon over his shoulder, adjusting the strap across his chest.

A small part of him cursed their arrival to the town. While he was elated to finally begin their quest to find Cunning the Colt's treasure, he wished that they had enough time for the pegasus to describe her work, or even her life. After finding out that his favorite storybook hero was a real pony, he desperately longed to know what the real Daring Do was like. So far he had grasped the obvious: her personality. All in all Daring Do seemed almost parallel to her novel counterpart, but her traits had showed to be more realistic, more vivid. The archeologist was intelligent, calculative and analytical. But she was also somewhat outspoken, and even showed signs of recklessness. She was driven by a seemingly endless supply of tenacity, her heart completely devoted to her work. It was an attribute that Braeburn knew all too well, and he could see it in her bright rose eyes.

However, Daring Do seemed to be reluctant to share her life with the riflepony. When asked about it, her attitude had immediately shifted to something more defensive, more than likely to cease the thought outright. Braeburn thought back to Artemis' words of warning. Was that what she was so afraid of? He hadn't asked about her personal life, that wasn't any of his business. Perhaps that was what the question sounded like, and Braeburn simply hadn't realized it.

After he successfully strapped his saddlebags to his back, Braeburn turned around to find Daring all ready to go. He had expected to see her donning the black traveling cloak, but what he found was a sight to behold. The sandstone-colored pegasus wore an olive-green pocketed shirt, its long sleeves rolled up to her elbows. Atop her monochromatic mane was a white pith hat, its middle wrapped several times with a dark green band. The riflepony stifled a chuckle. She looked exactly like the protagonist on the cover of the books, and Braeburn found it to be absolutely hilarious. Daring Do shifted awkwardly, a slight shade of red tinting her cheeks.

"What? This is what I wear when I'm on an expedition!" she said as Braeburn snickered behind a forehoof.

"O' c-course it is," he said before pursing his lips, trying desperately to keep himself together.

"The illustrator used my likeness, remember?" Daring retorted. Braeburn nodded, clamping his eyes shut.

After a few minutes the old buildings came into view through the windows on the right. As the old locomotive slowed down to a crawl, Braeburn was able to make out the distinctions of Dodge Junction. Not one board had been replaced since the town was constructed. Every store and home bore hundreds of years of wear, keeping to its traditions. Every pony that walked the streets wore some sort of Stetson or another form of cowpony hat, along with varying colors of vests and dusters. Braeburn walked over to the windows to find the ancient wooden platform of the train station, the squeal of the brakes accompanied by the wail of a whistle. The two of them braced their hooves when the locomotive halted abruptly.

When the door slid open, Daring bolted through the air over the stallion's head. "Finally! Let's go Brae!"

"Will ya' hold on a minute? Not everypony's got wings ya' know!" Braeburn called after her, although to no avail. The riflepony ran after her, his bags clinking with supplies and ammunition.

Daring led him off the platform of the train station and down the dirt road that led to the small town square, filled with the usual midday hoof-traffic of earth ponies. A few of them turned their heads at the sight of the pegasus, a type of pony seldom seen out West. Foals led by their mothers gawked with awe-stricken gazes as Daring landed by the large stone well in the middle of the square. Braeburn strode to her side, starting to feel the excitement she was emanating. The mare withdrew her map of the town, unraveling it in her hooves.

"Okay, first thing's first," she started with a grin. "We need to recap the clues I've already found, and where I've found them."

Daring gestured for Braeburn to look at the map, pointing to the drawing of the jail. "The first one was under the floorboard in his cell, leading to the one in the crawlspace of this home. All it said was 'right outside.' If we figure out what that meant then we take a huge step towards Cunning's legacy."

"But isn't that the clue that stumped ya'?"

"Yes, but I have a feeling that two minds will assist us in figuring it-" Daring replied before she was cut off by a sharp, resounding bang.

Everypony in the area gasped in fright, immediately dropping to the ground with their forelegs over their hats. Braeburn whipped his head in all directions, searching for the source of the all-too-familiar sound: gunfire. His legs shook with apprehension, his eyes wide. A sudden wave of trepidation crashed upon his mind. He tried to tell himself that it might have been somepony's rifle misfiring, until a second shot echoed across the town.

"Get down!"

Daring dragged him to the dirt in a crouch, throwing a protective wing over his head. Everypony fled indoors, peaking their curious eyes through the windows. At the sound of the third shot, Braeburn and Daring Do poked their heads out from behind the well, focusing their gaze down the main road.

From around a corner to the left galloped a tall, dark-purple earth stallion, a long-barreled rifle between his teeth. He wore his black mane tied back in a short tail, streaked with a shade of midnight-blue, similarly colored to his tail. The earth pony's cutie mark was of a black iron sight, one typically found at the end of a shotgun. He set his dull orange eyes on a stack of crates outside of the local barbershop. He slid behind the boxes, aiming his weapon over the top of the stack and racking the bolt on the side of the receiver in the same motion.

Two more stallions came into view from the left, taking cover from the shots. Braeburn immediately recognized the two. The first was Deputy Conners, a small-framed, white earth pony with a matching hat and vest. The brim of his Stetson hung low, veiling his shaved head. He had a short tail of pale blonde hair, tucked to his side in quivering fear. Connors was a full year older than Braeburn, and still he bore no cutie mark. He was a stallion not quite fit for his job, nor any other sort of occupation.

The second stallion was Sheriff Goldstar McCain, the brave-heart brother to Appleloosa's Sheriff Silverstar. Contrary to his gray sibling, his coat was a bright gold, his lustrous mane and tail two shades of brown. Unlike the citizens of Dodge Junction, he didn't wear any sort of hat, but donned a long black trench coat with a brass star pinned to the chest. McCain's flank was marked with a yellow sheriff's badge, signifying his natural talent for upholding the law. His gloss-black lever-action rifle had a short barrel and a large loop around the trigger. The dark receiver was emblazoned with intricate golden scrollwork, making the gun look like it belonged in a museum.

The sheriff and his deputy returned the criminal's shots, the white stallion's rounds striking nowhere near his mark. Goldstar had placed three consecutive bullets directly into the purple stallion's cover, the wood shattering upon impact. The criminal racked the action on his rifle, firing a slew of shots right next to Goldstar's head. It only took a few seconds for Braeburn to realize something terrifying: they were losing. The purple stallion was out-firing the both of them with incredible ease, his grin malevolent.

Braeburn felt Daring pull him back behind their cover, her eyes wide and fearful. "Braeburn, help them!"

"What?! Ah can't shoot another pony!" he protested.

"Have you not recognized who that stallion is?!" she demanded, emphasizing her words with her hooves. "That's the one that almost killed me! That's the pony you saved me from! Now save them!"

Braeburn's eyes lit up with horrifying realization. He peaked his head around the old well again. She was right. While he never saw the stallion's face behind the mask he wore, Braeburn did see his coat color along with his piercing orange eyes. How had he escaped his imprisonment? Suddenly he felt Thumper being ripped from the scabbard on his back, turning around to find the dark-yellow pegasus holding it in front of him. Her magenta eyes were desperate, pleading even. He wanted nothing more than to turn tail and run far away from the scene, but something kept him rooted to the spot. A want, no, a need to defend what was right, and to correct what was wrong. This stallion was only moments away from taking two lives, and he had the means to stop him.

Braeburn shoved a trembling hoof into his saddlebags, taking out a box of ammunition before shoving five of the shells into Thumper's cartridge gate. The riflepony whipped the old Marechester around his hoof, racking the action in the same graceful motion. The front stock fell atop the stone well, the sights lining up with the purple stallion's temple. Braeburn trembled, unable to hold the weapon steady. He couldn't do it. The peaceful earth pony couldn't bring himself to end the life of another being. His breath quivered as he desperately tried to aim the rifle, but found it impossible. They were too far away for anything but a dead-on shot. He couldn't simply aim in his target's general direction and hope for the best.

But then he felt something on his shoulder. Braeburn cast a hesitant glance to his right, finding a hoof lightly pressed to his coat. Even through the chaos of the scene, Daring Do was still able to give him a reassuring look. The touch brought a calming sense of warmth to his fearful mind, and suddenly his quivering body ceased.

With a new-found sense of clarity, Braeburn returned his gaze through the iron sights. He held the rifle steady, searching for a way to stop the criminal without killing him. But when he found it, the riflepony watched in horror as the purple stallion lined up a shot with Sheriff Goldstar's exposed head. The world seemed to stop with an abrupt halt as Braeburn cried out incoherently, aligning the crosshairs with his mark.

And then he pulled the trigger.

Thumper broke the moment-long silence with an enormous, ear-shattering bang. The rusted chain suspending the barbershop's sign split in twine, erupting in a flash of sparks. The enormous length of wood fell from ten feet in the air, its broad corner crashing upon the purple earth pony's head with a sickening crack. The criminal's eyes instantly closed as he fell to the dirt, his bolt-action rifle sliding from his hooves.

"YES!" he heard Daring Do cry out.

Braeburn let out an immense groan of relief as his head fell to the stone well, his forelegs wrapped around his neck. He felt the pegasus grasp a hold of his shoulders, shaking him violently. "You did it Brae! Oh my gosh that was awesome!"

The riflepony could only hold his forehead to the cold stone, a fleeting grin spread across his face. Daring pulled him upright, her expression that of pure elation as she threw her forelegs around him in a brief hug. As she let go, the siren sound of cheering ponies erupted from the streets. The citizens of Dodge Junction ran out from the safety of their homes, approaching the two with thankful cries. Amongst the clamor, Braeburn looked to Daring Do. He wouldn't have been able to stop the pony without her reassuring presence, and he was eternally grateful. It was a deed not done by business partners, but by friends.

"Thank you," he said quietly.

"Hey now, I didn't do anything," she laughed, picking him up to his hooves. Braeburn smiled sheepishly at the small crowd surrounding them, forced into a couple of eager hoofshakes.

"That was amazin' stranger!"

"What a riflepony!"

"Are you with the Royal Guard or somethin'?"

Braeburn was overwhelmed by the enormous wave of praise, unaware of how to react. Thankfully, the prominent voice of Sheriff Goldstar McCain broke through the rest:

"Well Ah'll be! Braeburn!" he yelled over the crowd. The riflepony turned back to the other end of the street. The sheriff trotted through the cluster of ponies, his rifle slung around his back. In the background Deputy Conners was clumsily wrapping the unconscious stallion's hooves in a pair of metal cuffs. "Who'da thought that you'd be the one ta' take Sure Shot out. Conners and Ah can't thank ya' enough fer what ya' did."

"Heh, Ah was just doin' what Ah had to sir," Braeburn chuckled.

"Well either way, it's a good thing ya' came," McCain replied before casting his glance around the crowd. "Okay, all ya'll clear out and get back ta' yer business. Give the boy some air."

Everypony in the square complied, all giving Braeburn their final words of thanks before departing. The riflepony exhaled, the tension loosening in his neck and shoulders. Daring covertly nudged his side, gesturing for him to wrap the conversation up with an apologetic expression. He nodded discreetly, understanding.

"So what're ya' doin' back home Braeburn?" the sheriff asked. "And who's yer friend here?"

"Sorry sheriff, Ah don't mean to be rude or nothin', but we've actually got a lot o' work to do."

Goldstar almost looked taken aback. "Oh. Well Ah imagine yer here fer the farm's sake, so Ah'll leave ya' be. But make sure ta' stop by the office and say hello before ya' head home alright?"

"Will do sir," he replied. With a wave, Goldstar trotted off back toward his deputy, whom was still struggling with the cuffs. Braeburn took the opportunity to pick his rifle off the rim of the well, racking the action to eject the empty shell. He replaced the next round through he cartridge gate, so when he needed to use it again, all he needed to do was move the lever to load the weapon.

"Why did you thank me Brae?" asked Daring in a soft voice.

The riflepony gave her a small smile, his ears folding back. "'Cause if you weren't there fer me, Ah would've run off in the other direction as fast as Ah could. You gave me the courage to help them."

"I think you had it all along," she smiled sincerely, giving him a playful hit to the shoulder. "You just needed somepony to show you that."

"That's still a mighty fine reason to thank you."

"Hey, what're friends for?"

With that, she turned around the well and headed down the dirt road, casting him a small grin. Braeburn's spirits soared at her words, feeling his mood lift dramatically. Suddenly his life didn't seem so monotonous anymore. He silently followed Daring Do, the first pony he could call a friend in far too long of a time.

Five - Right Outside

"Are ya' sure 'bout this?"

"Ohoho yeah. I haven't been more sure about anything."

"Don't ya' think it's a bit...snug?"

"It's supposed to be like that. It's never been used before."

"But it feels so...weird."

"What's so weird about it?"

"Ah guess Ah'm just not used to these kinds o' things."

"Well get used to it, 'cause you need it."

Braeburn gave his reflection in the tall mirror a quizzical look. In the place of his usual vest was now a long brown duster, draped over his back. The mantle of the jacket hung loosely around his shoulders, flared outward at the sides. The stallion had protested against such a garment, for it gave the impression of malevolence and hostility. Whenever he thought of a pony wearing a duster, his mind immediately drifted to criminals and bandits. He knew it to be nothing more than profiling, but the idea still lingered in his thoughts.

However, he couldn't disagree with Daring Do's argument. The smooth canvas kept the temperature of his body cool, and would inevitably provide protection from the sun's scorching rays. The tailor had taken his rifle into consideration, and quickly lined the interior of the duster with several loops designed for holding cartridges. Not only would he no longer have to dig haphazardly into his saddlebags for rounds, but now if he needed to reload, the deed was a mere reach away.

"Will you just take the darned thing so we can go?" Daring groaned with evident facetiousness.

"Yer the one that took me fer this here fashion show!"

"You're the one that's making it a show," she scoffed with a smile, sitting upon a high stool with her legs crossed. "It's a simple decision! It'll keep you from getting heat stroke out there. Not to mention the tailor is giving it to you for saving the town. Plus, it looks really cool."

"Alright, fine," he conceded, although reluctantly.

"Oh splendid!" came a flamboyant male voice.

Braeburn turned his head to find the tailor returning through the many coat racks. Unlike the plethora of tan and beige earth ponies usually that resided out West, Silver Snips was a unicorn with a coat of brilliant cyan blue. Several lengths of ribbon and fabric were draped around his slender neck, as if he were in the middle of designing a new garment. His long, swaying mane and tail were a dark shade of navy blue, a single line of bright silver streaking them both. Upon the tailor's flank was a pair of silver shears, interlaced with a white ribbon. Silver Snips was a pony that Braeburn hadn't seen much of before founding Appleloosa, for he never found himself in need of clothing other than his cowpony vest.

"I am nothing short of overjoyed that I can repay you for dispatching that wretched bandit, Mister Apple," Silver beamed, his voice laced with the air of a Manehattenite. "Why, what could have happened if you weren't around!"

"Glad to help, Silver," he replied, giving the tailor a nervous smile. "Just doin' what's right is all."

"Oh and he's humble too?" Silver spoke with heavy emphasis, clapping his forehooves together.

"Yeah, yeah. He's a gracious hero," Daring replied sarcastically as she hopped off the stool. "I don't mean to be rude Snips, but we're kind of busy today."

"But of course Miss Do," he answered with a smile. He then floated Braeburn's old vest into the air, regarding it with an air of disgust. "And what do you wish for me to do with...this?"

"Well Ah can't get rid o' that," said Braeburn, taking the vest and stuffing it into his saddlebags despite Silver Snips' subtle cringe of disapproval. "Thanks again though."

"Anytime Mister Apple. Now I must tend to my other customers, but you two have a fine afternoon," said the cyan unicorn. He turned on a hoof and disappeared amoungst the small sea of clothing racks.

"That was mighty kind o' him," Braeburn commented once the tailor was out of sight. He turned his head at a faint, growling sound. He found Daring next to him, wearing a sheepish grin. "And by 'busy,' you meant 'hungry', right?"

"Hehe, I may have," she admitted in a small voice. "We still have to figure out Cunning's second clue, so why don't we brainstorm while we eat something?"

Braeburn followed Daring Do through the two swinging wooden doors. The riflepony may have been familiar with the outside of the building, but never found himself eager to enter the dark saloon. While Dodge Junction was normally a peaceful town, he had his own preconceived notions of the kinds of ponies that would occupy the place. However, his previous thoughts were quelled at the sight of the interior.

The Final Chance Saloon was indeed a dimly-lit establishment, but the ponies inside were a far cry from menacing. The building was alive with happy conversation and an uplifted mood. Almost every table was filled with smiling customers, eating and drinking merrily. In spite of his prediction, nopony looked to his new appearance with hesitance, but instead with joy. At the sight of the new guests, the majority of the crowd raised their mugs and gave the beige stallion a loud, belting cheer. Still unaccustomed to praise, Braeburn merely smiled with a tip of his hat. He sat aside Daring in the two remaining stools at the long bar, resting their heavy saddlebags on the floor underneath them.

"Looks like you've become quite the celebrity Brae," Daring mused.

"Ah guess so. But Ah'm not sure how Ah feel 'bout it," he admitted. The pegasus didn't cock an eyebrow like he expected her to, but instead gave him an inquisitive look, silently asking him to elaborate. "Well...Ah dunno. It's all just so much to take in overnight. Yesterday morning Ah was just a simple farmpony buckin' apples in the orchard. Now everypony is cheerin' at the sight o' me, not to mention givin' me things now. How much d'ya think this here jacket costs? A hundred bits? Two-hundred?"

"So it's a lot at first, big deal," she replied as polite as the word could be said. "If you think this is bad, then maybe you don't want your name on the front page when we find Cunning's legacy."

Braeburn's eyes widened. "Wait, what?"

Daring almost looked taken aback. "Did you think you wouldn't get any credit? Of course you will! I'm not going to ignore that you helped me!"

"No Ah didn't...Ah just didn't think about it is all," he stammered, flustered at the accusation. Daring only chuckled in response.

"Relax Brae, I'm just giving you a hard time. Jeeze you're too easy."

The riflepony exhaled a silent breath, glad that he didn't insult the dark-yellow mare. Laughing with a friend was something he wasn't exactly used to, but it was truly an amazing feeling compared to working on the farm. Never before did he feel so relaxed, so free of the usual stress and monotony. A grateful smile formed on his face as he leaned his elbows on the stained wooden bar.

Ten minutes later their sandwiches and cider had arrived, and Daring Do couldn't have jumped on her food faster. Any other pony may have considered her utter lack of table manners repulsive, although Braeburn actually found it endearing. He was tired of the fussy and uppity mares from Canterlot, regarding the West as a 'barbaric' or 'rustic' part of Equestria. Daring Do however, was a complete contrast from the usual high-class city folk that would typically hail from such a city.

"Okay, problem-solving time," said the pegasus excitedly after swallowing a mouth-full of sandwich. She laid out the map again, this time not interrupted by the sound of gunfire. "The clue said 'right outside.' Vague, yes. But also very informative."

"How d'ya figure?" he asked before sipping at his glass of cider.

"Sometimes the most amount of information can be extrapolated from the least amount of words," she stated matter-of-factly. "But at the same time, it can be difficult to see what their meaning is. I dunno, maybe I'm just over-thinking this."

Daring let out a breath of air through her nose, placing her forehead to her hoof in contemplation. Something about those last six words sparked an idea in his mind. 'Over-thinking' it...There had been times when Braeburn tried to solve a seemingly-complicated dilemma, only to find that the problem had the simplest of answers. Perhaps it was possible that she was indeed attempting to solve an addition problem with intermediate division. Daring Do was, in fact, a very intelligent mare, so it made sense that she would subconsciously float to more complicated solutions. Maybe a pony of average intelligence could find the answer to Cunning's second clue.

The archeologist had found the clue in a house down the road, and couldn't find the next one 'right outside' of the building. The third and final clue had to be adjacent to something similar then, perhaps something different to the home itself, but still somehow relative. Braeburn cast a curious gaze over to the map between them, looking over the vast expanse of poorly-drawn buildings. While Daring had restricted her illustrations to the town's limits, she had also drawn Dodge Junction's abandonned silver mine right outside of...

Braeburn's mind lit up in realization, and he threw his hoof across the parchment, pointing to the mine. "Right there!"

Daring Do had almost fallen out of her chair in fright, pulling her head back with a muffled squeak. "Horseapples, Braeburn! Don't do that!"

"The silver mine!" he exclaimed, ignoring her flustered demeanor.

"What about it?" she asked, regaining her composure.

"Those caves have been abandonned fer hundreds o' years, and were around during Cunning's time!," he started to explain. "Where else is a better place to hide somethin'? That, and it's right outside of Dodge Junction!"

As soon as he finished his sentence, Daring's eyes widened, elation emphasizing their bright color of magenta.

"He wasn't talking about the house," she whispered before raising her voice. "He was talking about the whole dang town! Braeburn, you're a genius!"

She threw a hoof-full of bits onto the counter before taking flight through the swinging saloon doors, yanking Braeburn off his stool on her way. With a yelp, the riflepony felt himself lift into the air, Daring's forelegs wrapped around his own. The pegasus grinned like mad as she flew the both of them out of the saloon and into the streets, landing at a skid.

"Come on! Let's go already!" she exclaimed, bouncing on her hooves. Braeburn could only smile as his saddlebags were dropped onto his back. The earth pony cracked his neck in several places as Daring impatiently waited. "Oh Celestia, I wish you were a pegasus right now. To have to walk over to the mines, knowing what's there..."

"Ah'm excited too Daring, but next time warn me before ya' yank me through the air like that," he groaned, rubbing his shoulder. The jubilant pegasus turned toward the Eastern road, flapping her wings as if to take off. But then something came over her face. She put a hoof to her chin, her eyes tracing the ground.

"Wait a sec, you said the silver mines have been abandonned for how long?"

"Hundreds o' years," he repeated, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

"Well that's...kind of a problem," she exhaled, her disappointment obvious. "Those caves might be unstable by now, and the structures securing the ceiling might be too weak to enter."

Braeburn's heart fell. He had been so elated to find out where Cunning's next clue was, he never thought of the safety of the mines. If Cunning were to hide his final clue anywhere in those caves, it would have been far down underground, where he doubted they could safely venture. Of course, he thought. Why would we be able to go any further? That'd just be too dandy, Ah reckon. Ah let myself get excited over a pipe-dream.

"But..." Daring said quietly. Braeburn's head shot up at the optimistic sound in her voice. "We can still check it out you know. Not all is lost. I have the proper equipment back at my place. We can still do this! But I'll have to warn you Braeburn, my previous statement may not be true for long now. It may get a little risky in those caves, and well...anything can happen. It's not like traveling into a volcano, but it can be a little dangerous. I for one, am not letting anything stop me from finding Cunning's legacy, regardless of your answer to this next question: Do you still want to do this, knowing the risks you could take going in there?"

Daring Do may have asked the question with a very level tone, but her body language was saying something else entirely. She looked anxious, her heels almost tapping with an apprehensive beat. In the short time that he knew her, Braeburn was somehow able to pick up on her subliminal tells, and her eyes were the key. Whenever she was saying something that conflicted with her thoughts, her large eyes seemed to shimmer an even brighter shade of rose. It was a pleading gaze that Braeburn couldn't possibly say no to, and this time it wasn't any different.

"Ya' think Ah'm gonna quit now? Naw, Ah'm in it fer the long run," he said with a grin. "Just don't pull my shoulder out like that again."

He held out a forehoof, which Daring immediately bumped with her own. "Good. Let's go then."

As the afternoon drew on, a cooling breeze whistled through the dirt roads of Dodge Junction. The riflepony thanked Celestia that something had brought the temperature down, if even for a moment. His long, thick blonde mane blew in the wind, his duster flapping to his right. The brass cartridges clinked softly from inside the heavy jacket, reminding him that they were there.

He followed the pegasus from the ground as she drifted through the air, taking in the cool breeze with a smile on her face. Once Daring landed, she indicated a tall house to their left. Braeburn flicked his tail, confusion upon his face. He had expected the archeologist's home to be large and lavish, and somewhere on the outskirts of the town. Instead, they were standing in front of an old boarding house, three stories tall. Regardless, he followed the pegasus through the front door and down a long, dimly-lit hallway. The paper on the walls had started to peel, and every floorboard creaked underhoof. Overall the place was ordinary compared to the rest of the old town, but Daring strode through it as if it were the castle gardens in Canterlot. She held her head high, striding with a skip in her step while humming joyfully to herself.

At the end of the hallway was an ascending stairwell next to a black wooden door, marked with the number zero. Daring withdrew a small ring of keys from her bags in her teeth, inserting it into the lock and turning it with a click. A small part of Braeburn's mind lit up with foalish joy. He was about to enter Daring Do's home. The stallion may have known about her existence for over a day now, but he still found himself mildly giddy at the thought. Braeburn snorted out a breath, silently telling himself to grow up and remain composed.

Braeburn followed her down a long flight of stairs, feeling the heat of the summer day fade into the blissful, cool underground floor. Daring opened the second door, flicking on another light. Over the threshold was a large, ornately-decorated apartment. Its concrete walls were plastered with a burgundy wallpaper, patterned with gold lace. In each corner of the vast living room was a tall bookshelf, filled to the brim with a cornucopia of tomes varying in age. The brilliant wallpaper was almost veiled by the many shelves and maps. Several odd-looking trinkets and trophies were abundant in the beautiful home, somehow avoiding the look of a mess. In fact, it was something a pony could call 'controlled chaos.'

The theme of dark-red was shared by the plush furniture, organized in the middle of the living room around a mahogany coffee table. All in all, the home looked like a larger version of her personal train car. While there was no sign of air conditioning, it was simply unnecessary. Any heat from the surface hadn't been able to penetrate the underground apartment. Braeburn reveled in the warmth of his long duster, finding the temperature to be almost winter-like. Daring Do however, seemed completely at ease with the cold, stretching her wings in comfort.

"Wow," he whispered to himself, his eyes darting around the apartment.

"Yeah, it's a bit of a mess. Sorry," Daring chuckled nervously, dropping her bags to the carpeted floor.

"Not at all. This place is amazin'! But why does it have to be so cold?" he asked, sitting on his haunches and wrapping his forelegs around his shoulders.

"Maybe it's cold for an earth pony accustomed to the Western heat, but it's perfect for a pegasus. I wanted to live out here without dealing with the hot sun, so I moved underground," she explained. "Anyway wait here, I'll get some supplies."

With a flap of her nimble wings, Daring took off into another room and out of sight. Braeburn took the opportunity to cast a glance around the room. Suddenly his mind went back to their interrupted conversation on the train. He looked around the cluttered shelves and tables for any sort of picture that would give a hint about her life. Normally he wouldn't try to intrude in another pony's past, but he justified his curiosity with one simple thought: If Daring had placed anything out in plain sight, then it was okay to look around, right? Right.

However, the only pictures he found were of maps or tombs. Perhaps Daring just never had anypony over before, or maybe she was simply very adamant about keeping her past to herself. When he had previously inquired about the subject, her demeanor had shifted awkwardly, immediately dismissing the matter. That and what Artemis had told him only made the beige earth pony worry about her. What had happened to her that was so horrid? Had she talked to anypony else about it before? Augh, why can't Ah just let it go? he thought. It's none o' my business. If she wants to keep it to herself, then let her. Don't press her fer somthin' that you don't need to know about. But...she is my friend, right? Don't friends help each other out with things like that? No Braeburn. Just keep yer dang mouth shut and enjoy the opportunity she's givin' ya'.

"You alright?"

Braeburn shook his head around, focusing his eyes. He found Daring next to him, poking him in the shoulder with a hoof. She had brought a large cardboard box with her, sealed shut with packing tape. "What? Oh! No Ah'm fine, just thinkin'."

"Oh yeah? What about?"

Braeburn froze, struggling to find an excuse for the pensive look on his face. "Um...N-Nothin'. It's nothin'."

Daring furrowed her brow with a sly smile, unconvinced. "You're not afraid of those caves, are you?"

"O' course not! What'd we just talk about?" he retorted, although relieved that her suspicions were of something else entirely.

"Okay, okay. Just making sure," she smiled, dragging the heavy-looking box between them. She withdrew a small box-cutter from the pocket of her shirt, slicing the tape apart. The pegasus sat on her haunches and rummaged through the contents of the box. Braeburn watched as she pulled out what looked like spelunking equipment; two lengths of rope, a couple of harnesses, a small steel pickaxe and a first-aid kit. "Better safe than sorry."

"How do we use this stuff?"

"Don't worry, I'll show you if we end up needing it," she replied, stuffing her saddlebags. Braeburn followed suit with the supplies he was given, casting a brief glance to the large grandfather clock in the far corner. Its pendulum swung back and forth, ticking loudly. The ornate, scroll-work hands indicated that it was already four o' clock in the afternoon. How had the day flown by so fast? The stallion must have lost track of time in the excitement of the day.

"What're you looking at...oh jeeze," Daring sighed, tracing his gaze to the clock.

"What's wrong?"

"Have you ever been hundreds of feet underground in the middle of the desert at night?" she asked, her chest deflating.

"Uh, no Ah guess not. What's the difference?"

"Well it's cold, freezing actually," she answered with disappointment in her voice. "As much as I hate to admit it, it's probably not a good idea to go there tonight. Even pegasi can't handle cold like that. The last time I tried something like that, I ended up with pneumonia."

"So yer sayin' we should wait until mornin'?" Braeburn asked.

"Yeah. Darn it, I was waiting to do this," she snorted. "The next clue is in those caves and we have to wait? Gah!"

Daring groaned and flopped onto one of the plush couches. She let her head fall on the arm of the couch, her monochromatic mane laid across her chest. He understood her annoyance, although Braeburn actually felt somewhat relieved. Sure, he wanted nothing more than to find Cunning's treasure as soon as possible, but at the same time he'd rather do it right. The day had indeed been eventful, and the riflepony found himself smiling at the idea of resting for a bit. He strode over to the opposite couch, settling atop the burgundy cushions.

"Well I guess we can leave first thing in the morning," Daring said, removing her pith helmet and placing it on her stomach.

"That's alright Daring. Ah have family Ah can stay the night with," Braeburn said.

"You can just sleep on the couch you know," she said matter-of-factly, turning her head towards him.

Braeburn shifted oddly, tucking his forelegs underneath his chest. "Oh no, Ah couldn't do that to ya'. Ah wouldn't want to impose."

"Pfft, impose? I appreciate your manners, but this way I wouldn't have to come and wake you up someplace else. It's just quicker this way."

Instead of answering, Braeburn replied with a grateful smile. With a sigh, he took the opportunity to rest is head on his elbows, closing his eyes in content. From the other couch, it seemed as if Daring was as tired as he was. He heard the pegasus stretch, grunting and yawning. It was far too early to sleep for the night, but perhaps a nap would be a good idea.

"Alright then. Early in the morning."

Six - Showdown at Final Chance

Braeburn awoke to the faint, far-off sound of a rooster's call. His heavy eyelids remained shut, unwilling to take in the world of consciousness. He found himself unnaturally warm, his limbs shifting underneath something large and plush. The stallion had never felt comfort like this, and he reveled in the feeling. His long blonde mane laid precariously across the right side of his face, the left wedged between a pair of burgundy cushions. He could vaguely remember where he was, only that there was no way in Equestria that his own bed was this comfortable. To his utter demise, Braeburn felt something prod his shoulder. The stallion groaned dismissively, delving his body into the blissful comfort. Another prod, leading to another groan.

"Braeburn!"

The beige earth pony lurched into the air with a yelp of surprise, feeling his sore shoulder scream in protest. He grunted in pain upon landing, wincing and clutching his limb.

"Oh! Jeeze I'm sorry Brae, I forgot about that."

Braeburn's left eye fluttered open, his vision focusing on the sandstone-colored mare in front of him. While she wore an expression of worry, her lips had curled back into a small, covert snicker. Her mane was tied up in a damp towel, her coat slick with moisture. He guessed that she was fresh from a bath, ready for the day ahead. The stallion craned his head toward the ticking grandfather clock in the corner, finding that it was six o' clock in the morning. He must have slept through the evening as well as the night, something he had never been able to accomplish during his days on the farm. It was a privilege a seasoned workhorse such as himself would have previously called 'lazy.' But after feeling his body and mind so refreshed, the earth pony couldn't complain.

He took in only his closest surroundings, finding that his duster had been slung over the arm of the large couch. Thumper leaned in its scabbard against the wall to the left, next to his saddlebags. He gave Daring Do an inquisitive look, switching his gaze between her and his duster.

"What?" she asked before her face flushed. "You think I did that? Come on Brae, we're not that close. Now get up, we've got work to do."

Braeburn quietly laughed at the unintended accusation, slowly ascending into a sitting position. He turned his aching limb a few times, while Daring trotted through a door on the right. "Well g'mornin' to you too," he sighed with a grin.

"You gonna need ice for that shoulder?" the pegasus called from her room.

"Naw. It'll be fine," he replied, removing the blanket that he guessed Daring had covered him with. Braeburn allowed himself a smile at the gesture. Huh. Even under that brash exterior, she is one kindhearted mare, he thought. "So what's the plan?"

"That depends, do you drink coffee?"

"Ah reckon Ah never found the need to," he called back.

"Well I do, and I'm out, so we're gonna have to head down to the saloon."

Braeburn cocked an eyebrow as he pulled on his duster. "The saloon serves coffee now?"

Daring emerged from her bedroom, clad in her previous olive-green shirt and white pith hat. Her monochromatic mane and tail were still damp with bathwater, hanging limply without their usual defiant sway. "You've been out of Dodge for a while huh? That place serves everything nowadays, what with all the other stores closing down."

"Wait, what?!" Braeburn exclaimed, bewildered.

"You didn't notice all those 'closed' signs?" Daring asked. "Oh yeah, ever since that purple stallion came to town, he's been making all kinds of trouble for the local business owners. Seems that Sheriff Goldstar is having a hard time keeping him behind bars, considering what happened yesterday."

Braeburn furrowed his brow, his jaw slightly agape. What had happened to his colthood home in the past three years? The stallion remembered Dodge Junction to be a peaceful settlement, not the lawless wasteland it seemed to be turning into. How was this Sure Shot able to evade Goldstar McCain, a pony known for his rifle prowess and flawless record? He hoped to Celestia that the sheriff would be able to keep him in custody this time, for he didn't want to find himself in such an altercation again.

The beige earth pony pushed his stetson back, rubbing his forehead with worry. "What happened to this town?"

"Honestly, I have no clue," Daring sighed, rummaging through her saddlebags. "The first I saw of that bandit was the day you saved me. Since then, there have been a few of his friends out and about robbing some of the smaller stores in Dodge."

"His friends?!" Braeburn replied, utterly appalled. "Ya' mean there's more of 'em?"

Daring nodded grimly, stopping what she was doing. "Yeah. Nopony has been hurt yet, but that's only because they got what they wanted. The bandits haven't been seen for weeks now, so ponies have just assumed they got what they came for. Crime happens Braeburn, and unfortunately Sheriff Goldstar's age seems to be affecting him."

"His age? McCain's only a year older than my Pa!"

"Yes, but compared to somepony your age, he can't match up," Daring explained flatly. "I'm sure it was just a temporary thing. Aside from yesterday, everything's been fine, I'm not too worried about it. Anyway, the bathroom is through the door behind me."

Braeburn raised an eyebrow. "Um, okay? What're ya' tellin' me for?"

"I can smell you from here Brae," she smirked, settling down on the couch across from him. "I get that you're a workhorse, but you need a shower. Go take one so we can go."

The stallion cocked his head back, giving his coat a covert sniff to find that she was entirely correct. Living in a barn didn't mean that he came from a dirty home, but a farmer such as himself wasn't exactly known for bathing every day. He held back his retort, and instead rolled his eyes sarcastically as he strode through the threshold she was indicating.

Braeburn closed the door behind him, stripping himself of his duster and cowpony hat. The bathroom was relatively small, bearing none of the furnishings that the living room had. On the right was a large wooden tub, next to a stand-in shower with its green curtain drawn. He slid the translucent veil open and turned the water on, an instantly-hot stream pouring from the shower head above. Braeburn stepped inside, reveling in the rough pressure of the water. He allowed himself a moment to wake, holding his head under the massaging water. The stallion placed a forehoof to the wall under the faucet, closing his eyes and letting his soaked mane fall over both sides of his face.

As his muscles relaxed, Braeburn wished that his mind would do the same. Despite Daring's words of comfort, he still worried about the possibility of confrontation. Sure Shot must have been some kind of bandit leader, judging by Daring's explanation of the goings-on in Dodge Junction recently. If he had friends on the loose, then would they plan to break him out of custody soon? Braeburn wondered how he was able to do it the first time, but found no point in entertaining the query. Instead he shivered at the thought of another gunfight. While he had successfully stopped Sure Shot the day before, he couldn't exactly call it a victory. The purple stallion hadn't even known that Braeburn was there in the first place. Had the shootout been between the two of them alone, Braeburn was positive that he would have lost his life. Even with his new-found talent of sharpshooting, the beige stallion had been hesitant to aim his Marechester at another pony, frightened even.

All in all, Braeburn couldn't evade reality. He had been utterly terrified of the situation. His pride deflated at the memory, still fresh in his mind. He sighed, bumping his head on the shower wall in shame. The workhorse simply wasn't trained to properly handle such an endeavor, and he would have run for the hills had Daring Do not been there for him. This previously safe treasure hunt had turned into something else entirely overnight, and grew more and more dangerous by the hour. During his years in the small town before Appleloosa, Dodge Junction had been one of the most peaceful settlements in all of Equestria, so what happened? Perhaps it wasn't the town, but simply the ponies in question. He had never seen the bandits before the day he saved Daring, so maybe they were from another town. Traveling criminals, it made sense.

Braeburn's head snapped up at the sound of a hoof rapping on the bathroom door. "Hey Braeburn! Hurry up in there, we've got history to change!"

The stallion sighed, realizing just how long he had been pondering under the massaging flow of hot water. With an enormous amount of effort, Braeburn quelled his uneasy thoughts and began to wash his coat.

It wasn't easy being patient for this long. In fact, it was agonizing. One thing after another seemed to bring her hunt for Cunning's legacy to a screeching halt, and it was all she could do not to scream into a pillow in frustration. Her restless wings beat the air a few times, although not hard enough to take flight. Daring Do groaned inwardly, slumping her haunches onto the couch with a huff. As soon as she sat, a faint tick tack came from the small, rectangular window near the ceiling. The pegasus looked up to see a large brown hawk, its feathers striped with black and gray. The bird cocked its head at the sight of her, tapping on the glass with his beak.

Daring raised an eyebrow as she flew over and opened the window, allowing Fenrir to glide into the living room. The hawk landed on the coffee table, careful not to scratch the finish with his sharp talons. The pegasus sat down in her previous spot as the trained bird cut the tie on his leg, offering her a small parchment scroll.

"What are you doing here Fenny?" she asked quietly, sincerely unaware. "A letter huh? Wonder what he wants."

Daring took the note and unraveled it, spreading its corners out on the table. After taking a careful look over her shoulder to make sure that she could still hear the water running, the pegasus read the letter to herself:

To Daring Do,

I hope you're well Missy. You ran off in quite a hurry yesterday without even saying goodbye. What happened to your manners? Well I guess it doesn't matter all that much, you have your own life, and you're a busy mare.

But enough small talk. I know you're old enough to make your own decisions, but sometimes it's hard to keep my mouth shut. I worry about you kid. I may not know anything about this Braeburn, but I know about your track record. I just don't want to see you get hurt again, that's all. He seems like a nice pony and all, but so have the past few stallions you've associated with. Stallions his age nowadays have one thing on their mind and one thing only. I hope I didn't intrude, but I talked to him about it. Nothing personal, just a warning. Just please be careful, alright?

Sincerely, Artemis

She read the letter several times, each word making her temper rise. Daring let out a small grunt of anger, tearing the note in twine over and over again. How dare he send a letter like this? She had told him a multitude of times that her life was none of his business, but that didn't seem to deter his tireless intrusions. Besides, she simply wasn't interested in Braeburn that way. Even if she was, who was Artemis to immediately assume that she was? What did he care? He wasn't her father, nor was he even a blood-relative.

However, that wasn't the part of the letter that particularly infuriated her. What in Equestria did that intruding stallion say to Braeburn about her life? Daring let her head fall into her hooves, clamping her eyes shut in anger. The pegasus had done all she could to escape that life, as well as keep it in the past. But of course, Artemis had to go and open his big mouth. She didn't know if she was more embarrassed or horridly appalled by her godfather's actions. What was worse, Artemis didn't even know the truth about her previous companions. He had been lied to all of these years, and it was starting to come back to bite her in the flank. However, there was one truth that she had told him about: the heartbreak. The haunting, undying pain that hadn't left her mind at ease even after so many years. Daring swore as the haunting memories overwhelmed her, forcing a shudder through her shoulders. Her pride faltered, and a sudden angry, warm tear trickled down her cheek.

"Darn it," she whispered heatedly, her voice cracking under the pressure. She loathed being so weak, or even letting her emotions get the best of her. She gasped at the touch of something sharp grazing her elbow. She looked up to find Fenrir, rubbing his beak against her coat affectionately, as if to reassure the pegasus. Daring felt her lip tremble at the effort, doing everything she could to stop the flow of new tears. She sniffed, petting the hawk's head with a hoof. "Do me a favor, and peck the hay out of your owner, okay?"

She smiled as Fenrir nodded, flapping his wings and taking off through the open basement window. After the hawk departed, Daring Do slumped into her hooves again, drying her moist cheeks. Perhaps it was better that Fenrir didn't give her the chance to write a reply, for she couldn't think of anything positive to say to her godfather at the moment.

"Okay, ready to go."

The dark-yellow mare shrieked, flicking her wings up in surprise. She whipped her head around to find Braeburn, his long blonde mane damp under his cowpony hat. The stallion was in the middle of putting on his duster when he froze at her cry. His bright green eyes were wide, his mouth slightly agape. "Ah...Ah'm sorry?"

"No it's okay," she sniffed, desperate to hide her bloodshot eyes. "Let's just go."

"Hold on now, have you been cr-"

"Let's just go!" Daring exclaimed, her anger spiking. Without another word, she avoided the stallion's gaze and walked out the door.

"So how long is this gonna take?"

"'Bout an hour or so," said the gruff stallion. The gunsmith racked Thumper's action, peaking a dull blue eye into its chamber. "Oh yeah, Ah remember this rifle. Yer Pa must'a been in a right mood ta' give ya' this. It's his family's legacy and all. But yeah, these 1894's are easy ta' clean. Won't be too long."

"Ah appreciate it," Braeburn sighed, attempting a grateful smile. With a nod, the withered gunsmith took the rifle behind the counter and out of sight. Suddenly feeling all too vulnerable without his trusty Marechester on his back, the riflepony turned around toward the front door. However, he found himself stopping at the sight of Daring through the window. She was facing the other direction, kicking up plumes of dust with a forehoof. He couldn't see the expression on her face from the angle, but imagined that it was the same look of agitation she had worn for the past half an hour.

The two hadn't exchanged a word since they left her apartment. Braeburn had no idea what had gotten under her skin in a matter of ten minutes, but found it best not to ask. However, he couldn't stop worrying about her. What was going on? Did he do something to upset her? The stallion had been certain that he saw the remnants of tears in her eyes. During the entire walk to the gunsmith's shop, Daring Do held her head low, letting her gray-scale mane veil her face. Her pace had been slow, her shoulders quivering as if to give out.

Braeburn hesitated, wondering whether or not to walk through the door. It wasn't like they were dating or anything, but the stallion still felt worried for the pegasus. Not much could have happened while he was in the shower, so what was it? Was it better to simply ignore it? Ah dunno, he sighed inwardly. Ah don't think Ah did nothin' wrong. Maybe it's just somethin' else entirely.

Taking in an apprehensive breath, Braeburn adjusted his duster and strode through the door. The summer heat had cooled down, considerably more comfortable than the day before. Even a slight breeze uplifted the dust from the roads every now and then. He approached the pegasus mare, looking down at his own hooves. "It'll be 'bout an hour."

Daring said nothing, only replying with a slight nod of acknowledgement.

Braeburn's curiosity got the better of him. "D-Did...Did Ah do somethin' wrong?"

"No Braeburn, you didn't," she said in nothing more than a whisper, her voice hoarse. "Just don't worry about it."

"Kinda hard not to," he replied, gathering his courage. "Look, Ah know we just met the other day, but if ya'-"

"Why didn't you tell me about what my godfather said to you?" Daring interjected, looking back at him. Her once bright rose eyes were now dull, their corners marked with faint, red veins. She didn't respond in anger, but in pure curiosity. Regardless, Braeburn still froze. His mind raced, attempting to deduce just how she had found out about Artemis' warning. Daring waited patiently, although unblinkingly.

"Uh..." was all he could think to say.

"I'm not gonna be mad Braeburn. I just wanna know."

"It just...It just seemed private. Ah didn't wanna intrude or nothin'," he answered, suddenly feeling extraordinarily anxious. He absentmindedly dug a forehoof into the dirt. "Ah'm sorry."

Daring exhaled through her nose, looking away from him.

"Is there somethin' ya' wanna talk about Daring?" he asked bravely, taking a step toward the mare.

"Just drop it Braeburn."

The stallion cocked his head back, furrowing his brow. His immediate instinct was to do just as she said, and simply let it go. However, Braeburn couldn't do that. He knew the risks of pressing the matter further. For all he knew, she could simply drop the offer that she had presented and leave him in the dust, but Braeburn couldn't watch her go through this unbearable melancholy any longer.

"Ya' know what? No!" he exclaimed, his patience finally depleted. The pegasus whipped her head around, her expression bewildered. "You were completely fine this mornin', and then all of a sudden yer as mad as a bat outta heck! Ah know we haven't known each other long, but if we're really friends, then you should be able to tell me if somethin's botherin' ya'! Right?"

Silence rang in the abandonned dirt road for what seemed like hours. Braeburn's chest heaved, his temper unjustifiably rising with his words. After a quiet moment, Daring Do furrowed her brow, a small snarl forming on her lips. The stallion stood tall, ready for her retort.

"It is none of your business Braeburn," she hissed, her eyes alight with fire. "You have no clue of what I've been through, and have no idea how difficult it is sharing my life. I've kept it to myself for a reason."

"Well it looks like you had a real good idea," he said sarcastically. "'Cause all yer gettin' out of it is pain."

"How would you know what kind of pain I'm going through?!"

"Look at you!" Braeburn yelled back. "Ah don't have to know what it's like bein' you. Yer losin' yer cool over a simple quandary! It's pretty obvious that yer in pain Daring, and all Ah'm tryin' to do is help ya'!"

"Nopony asked you to help me!" she barked, her voice losing its measured tone.

Braeburn exhaled, controlling himself. Anger wasn't how he was going to crack the shell, and he knew it. The riflepony looked her dead in the eyes, his expression as well as his voice softening. "Well it's about time somepony did."

"Why do you keep insisting on this?" she asked, a desperate tinge in her words. "Why do you keep trying to pry into my life?"

"Ah don't mean to pry," he replied softly.

"Then what is your problem?!"

The pegasus shuddered, her last sentence laced with something more than mere questioning. Her shoulders loosened, her chest deflating. Daring Do had come into his life with a sense of independence, of self-assurance. However, the mare standing in front of him now was not that pony. Her entire body trembled, her eyes calling out for help, even if she could never admit it.

"My problem is that you were the first pony Ah could ever call a real friend," he said quietly, taking another step toward her. "And friends help friends, or so Ah'm told."

"You just met me Braeburn," she said in a trembling whisper. "Why do you care so much?"

Braeburn uttered a humble chuckle. "Ah guess Ah can't just stand idly by and let a friend go through so much pain."

Daring lowered her head at that, clamping her tearful eyes shut and gritting her teeth. Braeburn took a final step forward, wrapping a foreleg around her neck. The pegasus let her head fall forward, gasping into his thick mane. He let her cry, hugging her tightly. He knew that she still wouldn't reveal her past so easily, but that didn't matter to him. She was making progress.

"Why am I d-doing this?" she choked. "How are you...Oh Celestia, why..."

"S'alright Daring," he said gently. "We all have feelin's. Simple as that."

"But I c-can't," she whimpered. "I can't afford to be like this..."

"Ah'm sure ya' can," he reassured. "Ya' don't have to tell me what happened now, only when yer ready."

Braeburn let the pegasus go, allowing her to dry her eyes with a hoof. It may have taken a minute or two, but eventually the pegasus recovered. She hiccuped a few times, avoiding his gaze in what he assumed to be pride. The beige earth pony could only smile, happy to finally help her progress. "Look, Ah'm sorry fer pryin', but-"

"No Brae...it's alright," she whispered in response, finally looking back to him. There it was; the brightness in her magenta eyes that made her the Daring Do he had come to know. "I should be sorry for being so defensive. I've just been so seclusive for the past few years, and I didn't know how to react to somepony just trying to help. But...I don't think I can let you help me."

Braeburn didn't answer, but simply let her elaborate instead.

"I think I just need to figure it out for myself. But I appreciate it Brae...You're a good friend."

Daring gave him another hug, this one brief but meaningful. "Now can we please go get that coffee?"

"O' course," Braeburn smiled, gesturing for her to lead the way. She complied, her usual quickened trot returning to her legs. The stallion couldn't help but feel relieved, as if an enormous weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Judging by Daring's uplifted demeanor, she felt the same way. Braeburn didn't know how long he had expected to keep Artemis' warning a secret, but was glad to let it go early. It didn't matter if she was still hesitant to reveal what it was that haunted her mind, for all he wanted to do was make the ordeal a little easier for her. For whatever reason, it simply bothered him to see her in any emotional pain. Perhaps it was just that colthood dream of meeting the protagonist that he related with on so many levels. It was almost hard to see such a brave mare wearing anything but a bright, defiant grin.

"So what is that stallion doing with your rifle?" she asked, starting a happier conversation as they walked down the dirt road.

"Oh, that's Gunmetal Grey, the only gunsmith my Pa would ever trust with Thumper," he explained. "Ah noticed that the action has been gettin' a tad rough, so Ah'm havin' him take it apart to clean, oil and grease the insides."

"So you had to do it now?"

"Yeah. Ah don't know too much about how it works, but my Pa told me that a rifle can jam when not properly cleaned. Ah'd rather not do nothin' to break it."

"So Thumper's been in your family for a while, huh?" she asked inquisitively.

"For as long as anypony can recall, Ah reckon," he agreed. "Yup, boggles the mind when ya' think about just how long an item can stay in one family."

"Do you know who originally bought it?" she asked, her curiosity evident.

Braeburn shrugged. "No clue. Pa reckons that the earliest pony in his family to wield Thumper was his grandpappy. Other than that, it could have gone back fer years and years."

"Things just get lost in history sometimes," Daring agreed. "When this is all over, I wouldn't mind investigating that rifle's legacy."

Braeburn chuckled. "Ah'm sure Ah wouldn't mind that, even if it is impossible."

Daring Do scoffed. "Is that a challenge Brae-Brae?"

"Only if ya' think you can do it," he teased.

"I think you're forgetting who you're talking to," Daring grinned. Braeburn gave a small, amused smile in response, elated to see Daring return to her old self.

Minutes later they arrived at The Final Chance Saloon. Yesterday the place had emanated an air of joyous laughter and conversation, but today was not that day. As soon as they came within ten yards of the railing-lined porch, the two could immediately sense that something was amiss. The jubilant voices had turned into louder, angered hollers.

As they hesitantly approached the old wooden landing, there was a cry of agony as the limp body of a black stallion was thrown through the large glass pane next to the swinging bat-wing doors. Shards flew around the unconscious cowpony, flying right in Daring's direction. Before Braeburn could move, the pegasus instinctively spread her wings and dashed backward, skidding across the dirt on her hooves. Before Braeburn could utter so much as a yelp of surprise, a prominent voice resounded from the interior of the saloon.

"Anypony gonna tell me now?"

"We told you, we haven't seen him!" came the bartender's angered voice.

"That's a lie!"

Braeburn peaked above the bat-wing doors to see chaos erupting inside the packed saloon. Over a dozen ponies leaped from their seats and attacked a small group of menacing-looking stallions in the middle of the floor. An uproar of cries and yells exploded from the building, accompanied by the sickening cracks of hooves meeting skulls. As quick as they came, a veritable pit of intertwining punches and weaponized furniture formed in the saloon. In the midst of the chaos, Braeburn's eyes fell on one pony in particular.

His coat was a dark gray, his short mane and tail a sleek jet-black. The one eye that wasn't masked by a strapped patch was a dull orange, a shade that pierced through the riflepony's soul when it fell upon him. Unlike his assumed allies, he was a pegasus stallion, his left wing missing a few pinion feathers.

The alleged bandit ignored the calamity surrounding him, pointing a hoof directly at Braeburn. "There he is!"

Braeburn didn't have the time to contemplate who these ponies were are why they were seeking him out, for the pegasus drove his wings backward and darted through the air. Before he could so much as blink, the beige stallion felt the wind leave his lungs as he was thrown through the air. The two tumbled across the ground in a rolling heap, Braeburn instinctively throwing his forelegs in front of his face. However, he felt three consecutive blows drive into his stomach, forcing a gag from his throat. The jagged dirt road ground at the back of his thick duster as he slid, desperately trying to defend his body from the flurry of punches. As he deflected the blows, his mind raced for any way to fight back. Braeburn wasn't by any means experienced in hoof-to-hoof combat, but he still had the lean muscles of a workhorse. The majority of his strength was in one place in particular: his hindlegs.

The farmpony tucked his hindhooves underneath his attacker, taking a couple of punches as he gave his legs some room for momentum. With a cry of outrage, Braeburn drove his hindhooves into the pegasus' sternum, sending him flying into the air with a cough of blood. "Catch, Daring!"

"Got it!" came her voice. As quick as a flash, Braeburn watched as the dark-yellow pegasus bolted through the air above, snatching the bandit by the wing and turning into a barrel-roll. With a victorious yell, Daring chucked the gray stallion, his limp body colliding with the ground in a heap. The beige earth pony spent no time watching him tumble through the dirt, and instead switched his wide eyes to the entrance of the saloon.

He expected nopony to hear the gray pegasus' cry through all the ruckus, but found that he had been very wrong. He watched with adrenaline-fueled horror as three more stallions left the fight inside the saloon, running toward the two of them at a full gallop. Braeburn took the few seconds they had to scour his brain for a plan of action, ignoring the agonizing pain in his stomach and neck.

The workhorse had absolutely no clue how to use his forehooves in combat, for it was a skill simply unnecessary to a pony with his background. His reaction time was of no real use either, untrained to avoid the swift hoofwork of a punch successfully. These bandits certainly had experience, judging by his first attacker's seemingly-flawless assault. Daring Do, however, knelt toward the ground with a sense of confidence. He didn't speculate about how an archeologist had the experience needed for combat, but instead put his faith in her. As his time to ponder ran out, the world around him seemed to slow to a crawl when Braeburn made his move, hoping to Celestia that his bold idea would work.

Braeburn took an unexpected step forward, leaning his body low to the ground and spinning on his forehooves. With the grace of a seasoned apple-bucker, he threw the back of his body around and drove his hindhooves upward. The farmpony felt a grin form on his face as he felt them connect with the solid jaws of his opponents. Adrenaline coursed through his veins as he slid on all fours, turning his head in his partner's direction. In the back of his mind he could hear the two stallions falling to the ground without another word, but his full attention was now on the pegasus.

He felt his blood boil at the sight of his only friend taking a full blow across her cheek, her attacker winding up for another. A sudden rage erupted inside him, burning his soul in dire need for vengeance. Remembering the equipment Daring had lent him, Braeburn dove his muzzle into his saddlebags, immediately finding the coiled lasso with his teeth. He grasped the end of the rope, ripping it out of his bag and slinging it through the air. Applejack may have always been the victor in their foalhood rodeo competitions, but Braeburn was by no means a novice.

The loop of the rope found its mark, instantly wrapping around the stallion's neck. With a vengeful cry of rage, the farmpony yanked on his end of the rope. The black earth pony was pulled backwards through the air, falling to the ground on his side with a choked gasp.

"How DARE you strike a mare?!" he bellowed, running at full bore toward the recovering stallion. His vision had centered, tinted a dark red. All he could feel was hate, and an undying need to beat the dark earth pony into a bloody pulp.

As soon as Daring's attacker got back on his hooves, Braeburn had already arrived. Just as before, he dipped low to the ground and spun, bucking the stallion directly in the chest. However, this one didn't fly through the air as his two companions had. His build was large, rippling with lean muscle. The bandit took the kick in stride, huffing out a breath before charging at Braeburn. In his quickened sense, the farmpony instantly fell backward before his opponent made contact. Thankfully, the bandit fell for the trap. He leaped forward, sailing over the grounded earth pony. Braeburn poured all of his hate, his rage and his desperation through his hindlegs, and into the black stallion's torso.

The farmpony grinned like mad at the sound of ribs splintering. The bandit cried out in pure agony as he fell to the ground, the lasso still taut around his neck. Braeburn rolled onto his hooves, crouching and ready to vent his rage on anypony that dared to attack him next.

"Braeburn! Behind you!" shrieked Daring's voice, although in vain.

Before he could instinctively lash his hindhooves out, he felt something cold and hard slam against the back of his neck, throwing his entire body forward. He grunted in pain as his face was ground into the jagged dirt, the dust blinding his eyes and preventing him from opening their lids. He braced himself for a barrage of blows, but found that none had come. Coughing on the dry taste of dirt, he slowly stood up. His legs shook from the effort, every inch of his body throbbing in pain. Braeburn cracked his neck, each snap forcing a gasp from his lips. His mind was in a lull as it attempted to recover from the heavy blow. The stallion rubbed his blinded eyes, forcing them to moisturize and flush out the dust. Before he could focus his blurred vision, his ears pricked up at the far-off sound of galloping hoofbeats. He gazed down the road to find Sheriff Goldstar McCain, accompanied by Deputy Conners. They both ran with rifles in their mouths, McCain with an extra sheathed on his back. The sheriff's eyes widened on a spot over Braeburn's shoulder, signifying another attack.

Goldstar craned his neck back and threw his gold-engraved lever-action rifle through the air. "Braeburn!"

Even in his fatigue, Braeburn reached his forelegs out and caught the gun. His heart beat faster at the elation of holding a familiar weapon again, spinning it around his hoof and racking the butter-smooth action. In the same motion, the riflepony turned on his forehooves, kicking up a cloud of dust and shoving the barrel against the muzzle of a frozen earth pony. He smirked triumphantly at his alleged attacker, taking his hesitance at the sight of the weapon as an opportunity. The beige stallion bucked the rear stock forward, bashing it into the criminal's cheekbone.

Over to the left, Daring Do stood, panting heavily amoungst the bodies of two unconscious stallions. Her pith hat laid on its top several yards away, revealing her windswept monochromatic mane. Her olive-green shirt was coat with dust, its left sleeve torn above the elbow. Her right cheek had been cut, a thin stream of crimson trickling down her jawline. Braeburn sighed in relief, glad that she was more or less alright.

No more bandits seemed to leak out of the saloon, although the fight had done just that. Stallions as well as a few brave mares exchanged heavy blows inside and outside of the building. His eyes fell on one particularly impressive mare. The female earth pony seemed to mimic Braeburn's apple-bucking strategy, throwing a rather tall and lanky stallion clear over the railing of the front porch.

McCain and Conners slid to a halt on either side of Braeburn, firing their rifles into the air in warning. However, nopony seem to even hear the shots, but instead continued their massive brawl.

"Braeburn," Goldstar called, catching his attention. "We need ta' get them ta' stop, but we can't kill em'."

"Ah'll do what Ah can," he replied over the sounds of combat, his voice shaking.

"Good. Get the three on the roof, and Ah'll stop the ones out front."

Braeburn set his sights on a trio of fighting ponies, whom had somehow made their way to the angled, shingled rooftop. He racked the lever, aiming at a spot underneath a stallion's hindhooves. He pulled the trigger with a hoof, watching as the shingles exploded out from underhoof of the stallion. He jumped out of reaction, stumbling and ultimately sliding off the roof and colliding with the ground below. Despite their fallen opponent, two mares were still locked in a less-than-epic struggle, pulling at each others manes. But before he could gather the nerve to fire in the direction of a lady, Goldstar's extra bolt-action rifle barked next to him, splintering the wooden wall between a group of brawling stallions.

"ENOUGH!" he bellowed. At the sight of the shot and the sound of McCain's prominent voice, everypony whipped their heads around, ceasing their combat. "All ya'll better light a fire under yer flanks and get the hay outta here before Ah arrest more than Sure Shot's compadres!"

With yelps of fright, everypony that was still conscious fled the area, kicking up clouds of dust in every direction. Braeburn immediately looked over to Daring, finding her flying over with her pith hat returned to her head. She landed directly in front of him, her expression frightened and concerned. Her large, wide eyes quickly looked him over, gasping at the sight. "Braeburn! Oh jeeze you're cut up bad, are you okay?"

The riflepony could only nod, his exhaustion finally getting the best of him. Braeburn fell to his haunches, dropping the rifle gently to the ground. He panted with his head low, feeling something warm flowing over his cheek. His entire body ached in pain, fatigued beyond use. He heard Daring rummage through her bags as the sheriff and his deputy walked off to apprehend the unconscious bandits, saying that they would return momentarily. The riflepony closed his eyes, wincing in agony as his neck cried out at any miniscule twitch. He cringed at the touch of something soft wiping the blood from his face.

"Sorry," she spoke nervously. "Are you sure you're okay? You got hit pretty hard...a lot."

"Ah'll...live," he panted.

Daring Do took the next five minutes to disinfect his wounds and wrap them with thick lengths of gauze. He let her work, unable to move anyway. The pegasus slowly and carefully slid his heavy duster off his torso, instilling a faint grunt of pain through his teeth. She apologized relentlessly, wearily treating the stinging cuts and bruises on his neck and forelegs.

"How did you do all of that Brae?" she whispered, her voice gentle. Braeburn groaned, opening his dry eyes to acknowledge the pegasus.

"Ah dunno," he breathed. "Ah've never even been in a fight before. Ah just saw you get hit and Ah...Ah lost it. My body just moved, and all Ah wanted to do was hurt everypony..."

He cast a glance around the front of the body-laden saloon front. Braeburn's eyes widened at the sight of the stallions he had dispatched. One caught his attention over the rest; the muscular black earth stallion that was still curled up into a ball, crying out in agony over his broken ribs. The riflepony felt something shatter in his mind, and his shoulders started to quiver. "What have Ah done?"

"You did what you had to," Daring replied immediately, knowing exactly what he was thinking. "It doesn't make you a bad pony, Braeburn. In fact..."

The stallion slowly looked back to the pegasus sitting in front of him. Her body seemed to be trembling, as if to hold back another wave of emotion. "...Nopony's ever saved my life before, let alone twice. But you did...Thank you so much Braeburn."

Completely disregarding his injuries, Daring threw her hooves around his neck and embraced him gently. The stallion bit back a cry of pain, slowly returning the gesture. To his surprise, the mare planted a brief, grateful kiss to his forehead before hugging him again. The riflepony smiled, feeling his cheeks warm up with embarrassment. Anypony else may have regarded the gesture as a loving act. However, Braeburn was glad to feel nothing more than friendship in his relationship with the dark-yellow mare. It was all that he wanted, and he knew that Daring Do felt the same way.

As she let go, Braeburn asked: "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," she nodded, a small smile on her lips. "But it looks like Sure Shot's friends are taken care of. Won't have to worry about them again."

"Ah just hope that was all of 'em," Braeburn chuckled. "'Cause Ah don't feel too keen on doin' that again."

The two looked up at the sound of two sets of hoofbeats. Goldstar and Conners had returned, both wearing wide grins.

"Well look at you Brae," the sheriff cackled. "Seems like those bandits really did a number on ya'. But you did much more ta' them."

"Much more than Ah could'a done," Conners agreed sheepishly.

"Either yer keen on trouble, or trouble follows ya'," Goldstar grinned. "Regardless, Ah can't thank ya' enough Braeburn, again truth be told."

"Wasn't just me sir," Braeburn said weakly, his injuries burning in protest. "Ah wouldn't have been able to do it without Daring here."

"Really now," he replied, giving her an appreciative look. "Well Ah guess we missed that part of the show. Good job ta' you too miss."

Daring grinned proudly, bumping a hoof with the sheriff. After a few more words of thanks, the sheriff and his deputy departed, gathering a few passersby to help carry the unconscious bandits down the road and out of sight. Braeburn didn't care that he was still in the middle of the road, and flopped down onto his back. He smiled with his eyes closed, taking in slow, relaxed breaths.

"Go get yer coffee Daring," he said. "Ah'm just gonna lay here fer a while."

Seven - The Meaning of Trust

The enticing aroma of freshly-brewed coffee wafted through Daring Do's nostrils, bringing her life enough to lift her head from the cool surface of the wooden bar. She almost had the energy to smile as the tall bartender paced over to her from behind the bar, balancing a short cup of steaming coffee on the end of his muzzle. The stallion greeted her with an amused grin, sliding the drink between her forehooves. The tired mare gripped the sides of the mug, slowly taking in the sweet aroma. Something about its smell was like a little slice of heaven to the pegasus, especially after such an eventful morning. Suddenly the throbbing pain in her cheek was quelled as she took a careful sip, simply unaware of the scolding heat of the liquid.

There were two bartenders that ran the Final Chance Saloon, and Daring had only ever cared to speak with the one standing in front of her. Shines was a tall, thin stallion with a gaunt face that always seemed to wear a sidelong grin. His dark mane had always been slicked back, giving him a well-groomed look. His coat was a deep shade of brown, reminding her of the color of Thumper's wooden stocks. Unlike the ponies of Dodge Junction, the stallion was clean and dressed in an elegant navy-blue vest and bow-tie. Despite his middle-age, he bore no mark upon his flanks. Daring had always wondered why so many ponies out West simply hadn't found their special talent, such as Deputy Conners. However, none of them seemed to mind at all.

The saloon was completely abandoned, the dusty floor littered with broken chairs and tables. The fight had certainly taken a toll on the place, and Daring wondered how the bartender was able to wear a smile after all that had happened.

Uttering a small chuckle, Shines leaned an elbow on the bar, his trademark grin aimed at the fatigued pegasus. "No cream or sugar?"

Daring set the cup down, sighing in blissful content. "After that mess? I just don't care right now. Sorry about the damage by the way."

"Not at all Daring," he said dismissively, running a hoof through his slick black mane. "You and Braeburn made sure it didn't get any worse. I can appreciate that. Plus, I got that sign put up again last night without spending a single bit. Insurance is a great thing you know."

"Duly noted," she said, smiling meekly as she took another hefty sip. She had only heard half of what he said, her ears still ringing from the close-range gunfire.

"So is there a reason you left your coltfriend to pick up his rifle by himself?"

"Well he wouldn't...wait what did you just say?" Daring exclaimed, almost choking on her coffee. Shines barked out a laugh, tapping a hoof to the wooden bar. The pegasus scowled at the humorous prod, taking another long sip of her drink.

"I almost got away with that one. You're too easy this early in the morning," he grinned. Daring could only groan in annoyance, hiding her face under the brim of her pith hat. "But really, why'd you leave him on his own? He's in no condition to be walking."

"He wouldn't have any of that," she replied, shaking to jibe from her mind. "I told him he needed bed rest, but that stubborn mule just got up and took off."

"Stubborn eh?" he repeated. "Sounds a lot like you."

Daring shot him an inquisitive glare. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

"It's means you're stubborn Daring," Shines answered flatly. "When you came here for the first time, you looked more depressed than a widow on her wedding anniversary. Now most ponies let others help them after fifteen consecutive attempts, but you kept yourself behind a brick wall, and still do. I asked you what you did for a living, and you told me that you were just a simple traveler. Now I understand the preconceived notions of Western pony folk..."

Shines reached under the counter and withdrew a thin novel, tossing it onto the bar with zero discretion. The mare's jaw dropped at the sight of the book. Illustrated on the olive-green cover was a picture of her likeness, swinging on a vine between the jowls of a surfacing alligator, a gleaming blue statuette in her free hoof. It was the first book in the series, an item Daring hadn't seen in over two years. The pegasus felt her forehooves trembling, sending quick ripples through the surface of the coffee in her cup.

"...but not all of us are illiterate, Daring Do."

The archeologist drew in quick, panicked breaths, her wide eyes flickering between Shines and the book. "What...You knew?"

"Like I said, some of us do read," he answered flatly, although not with a small smile. However, she couldn't find solace in his kind demeanor. Daring groaned quietly, letting her face fall into her hooves. "Why so sad? You're the protagonist of the single highest-selling young readers' novel in history."

"No I'm not," she replied, her voice muffled from her hooves. "It's my likeness, and I thought I was able to get away from that by moving here."

"And why would you want to do that?" he asked sincerely.

"Have you looked through the book thoroughly? Nowhere does it say 'based on a true story.' All that blasted thing has gotten me is unwanted, misunderstood attention. Celestia forbid that I could just get away from all of that! But why should I? I was the dolt that signed that darned contract in the first place!" she ranted, temporarily unaware of who she was talking to anymore. With a snort, she flipped the novel over to conceal its cover, pushing the regrettable item away from her view. Shines raised his eyebrows at the flustered mare, leaning forward in interest. "Great, now I have to run away from it again..."

"Now calm down," he chuckled. "I'm the only pony in Dodge who knows about this book. That should seem obvious, or else somepony would have recognized you by now."

"So why didn't you bring this up when I first came in here?" she asked, her tired eyes on the trembling coffee in her hooves. "Why now?"

"You didn't seem in the right mood at the time," he said. "I figured that you would bring it up in conversation eventually, considering your consecutive visits. So now after all this time, you still haven't, and I wanted to know why."

Daring sighed, fiddling with her cup. "Maybe I just didn't want to talk about it Shines."

The bartender rolled his eyes. "Like I said, stubborn."

The pegasus had an immediate retort prepared, but couldn't find herself able to deliver it. Instead, she drained her cup of the steaming liquid before setting it down between them. While she appreciated Shines keeping the books a secret, Daring Do felt her words of thanks catch in her throat. Despite the caffeinated drink, the mare still felt as if she had been awake for days, unable to catch a wink of sleep.

Almost reading her mind, the bartender placed another full mug of coffee in front of her. She nodded in thanks, taking a full swig of the scolding beverage.

"So what have you and Braeburn been doing running around town recently?" he asked, changing the conversation. "That boy moved away from Dodge three years ago."

"If you must know, we're looking for something. Something important," she answered, unwilling to hear of anypony's pessimistic opinion of Cunning the Colt's existence.

"Oh? Is it a lost artifact?" Shines guessed. "Obviously you're a treasure hunter of some kind, having such a likeness made after you."

"You could say that, but that's all I'm going to reveal at the moment," she said.

"More secrets I see."

"But of course," Daring replied, finding a small grin forming on her face. She was immediately rewarded with a painful sting in her bandaged cheek, and she winced with an audible scowl. "Ack! Darned bandit."

"Oh yes, I saw that," Shines commented, his expression turning grave. "Thankfully Braeburn was there."

"That stallion caught me off-guard," she muttered defensively, her pride faltering at the excuse. Shines stood up straight, folding his forelegs with a slow shake of the head.

"Be that as it may, but you didn't see what I saw," he said, drawing Daring's attention. "That boy may not have come in here before yesterday, but I've known him since he was born. And in that time, I have never seen Braeburn Apple explode the way he did when that criminal struck you."

Daring Do raised an eyebrow, her eyes tracing his face to find an explanation. "What are you saying?"

Shines' previous demeanor shifted into something much more serious as he leaned his elbows on the bar, looking her dead in the eye. "I'm saying that stallion has never once showed any sign of anger, but out there...out there, something happened to him. I've seen the distinctive look of anger many a time before Daring, but never in my years have I gazed upon what he had in his eyes at that moment. I'm not even sure if the word 'loathing' can describe it. No, what came upon him was nothing but pure, unadulterated blood-lust. Daring, if that boy had his rifle on him, he would have turned that bandit into a bloody, grotesque mass of pulp. All because somepony hit you."

The entire time he spoke, Daring felt every one of his words impact her soul with resounding force. The pegasus' eyes were wide, her brain attempting to make sense of what he said.

"I won't ask what you two are looking for, or why you chose him of all ponies to help you in your quest, but just know that it's obvious he cares about you," he said, a final note lacing his words. However, he continued on: "And it's also evident that you care about him, judging by your little display of affection out there."

Daring stifled a gasp, mortified that somepony had seen that. She didn't exactly attempt to hide the appreciative gesture, for she simply did it on a whim. The pegasus silently berated herself for being so impulsive, something that had only brought her anguish in the past. As her thoughts wandered, Daring regretfully recalled the many times she had fallen apart that day. What was happening to her? She had successfully kept her emotions in check for years now, only to find that the wall she built around herself was crumbling to pieces, far beyond repair. She cried in the hooves of a pony she had only known for days, and then kissed him on the forehead the same morning. The pegasus couldn't afford to let her emotions run free again. She had every reason to keep to herself, and her past taught her that lesson the hard way.

So why was she simply letting Braeburn in? Who was he to know the real Daring Do? Something about him just made it easy to confide in, but she found that far too easy of an idea. The world hadn't given her a break before, so why should it do such a thing now? Perhaps it was simply Braeburn's personality; his kindhearted aura, his humble mannerisms, or even that warm smile he would always give her. However, her experienced pessimism prevented Daring to accept any of those attributes to be true. Luck had never simply dropped a pony to confide in into her world before, and Braeburn was no different. How could she trust the stallion, having only known him for a few days?

But then again...why shouldn't I? she found herself thinking. What has he done to not let me trust him? All he's tried to do is help me, so...why can't I let him in? Have I become that much of a shut-in? No...I've tried this before, and only ended up getting hurt in the process... But...he saved my life twice now, and if what Shines said was true then...he might actually care about me, so I can trust him right? But why would he care? What have I done for him besides offer this quest? Does he need a reason to care? Does he...wait, does he like me? No, that doesn't make sense. He was positively overjoyed when I called him a friend. Maybe that's just all he wanted; a friend. I guess I can relate to that...just like how I can relate to everything else he does.

Daring Do rubbed her temples with her hooves, closing her eyes and ignoring her coffee. Despite her muddled mind, she found it best to put the matter aside for now, and return her thoughts to the task at hoof. Today was the day she and Braeburn were to finally search for Cunning the Colt's last clue, the final milestone before they could unearth his lost and forgotten legacy. As her mind shifted gears, a grin curled her lips, elated to find excitement run through her veins again. Suddenly the caffeine of the beverage started to stir a fire in her heart, the undying need to find what she had been looking for.

However, her uplifted mood didn't last long. She turned her head at the sound of the bat-wing saloon doors swinging open. Braeburn limped across the threshold, Thumper sheathed securely on his back. The pegasus froze at the sight of the injured stallion, her wide eyes focused on his pained expression. He was in such agony, his body paying the price for his selfless, heroic acts. The beige stallion paced with careful steps, his back arched upward to prevent any further pain. Upon his cheek was the bandage she had applied to quell the flow of blood, although the gauze didn't seem to be doing much at this point. His face had been ground into the jagged road, and the cuts were deep. She couldn't imagine how his neck was feeling, having taken such a crippling blow from a length of metal pipe. Daring's heart sank at the horrid sight, unaware of how she let him walk down the street by himself. With a grunt of effort, Braeburn heaved himself onto the stool next to hers, his gaze fixed on her terrified expression.

"What's wrong with you?" he asked, as if nothing in the world was amiss.

"Look at you!" she exclaimed, worry lacing her voice. "How could I have left you by yourself?! You need to be in bed Braeburn! You're injured, and you're in no-"

"Daring, stop it," he chuckled, holding up a shaking hoof to stop her. "Nothing ya' say is gonna keep me from goin' on, so don't even try."

"But you can't even walk right! Stop being so..." Daring trailed off as she realized what she was about to say. Shines chuckled at her hesitance, wordlessly understanding. He walked away from the bar, disappearing through the back door. The bartender was right; Braeburn was just like her.

"So...what?" the riflepony asked.

"So..." the pegasus whispered as her eyes darted around his pained form. She sighed, unaware of how to combat his stubbornness. "I just don't want you to hurt yourself any more on my account."

"You think it's yer fault Ah'm hurt?" he laughed. "Ah made my own choices, and Ah'm gonna keep doin' just that. Ah've been injured before Daring, and this is nothin'. Naw, Ah'm gonna keep goin' and help you find that treasure. So come on, you've had yer coffee, and it's time to change history."

Daring Do stared at the stallion, whom only returned her gaze with a reassuring smile. If he said he could do it, then she believed him. The pegasus held up a hoof, telling him to wait a minute before she flew over the bar and through the back door behind it. She found Shines sitting on a crate outside, leaning his back on the wall with a lit cigarette between his lips. He regarded her with a raise of his brow, his eyelids low in relaxation. She landed directly in front of him, temporarily ignoring his unhealthy addiction.

"What brings you out here?" he asked, blowing out a plume of smoke away from her.

"Shines...what does a pony do when the world attempts to gain their trust, even after a lifetime of not deserving it?" she asked hurriedly, desperate for an answer. The earth pony seemed to chew on the query for a moment, taking another long drag before exhaling it through his nostrils, the soft breeze blowing the smoke away from them and down the road.

"Well that depends," he said finally. "Is this attempt any different from the past tries?"

"In every way imaginable," she replied confidently. Shines smiled at that.

"Then it looks like you have your answer."

Braeburn drank heartily from a large canteen of water, guzzling its contents. He reveled in the feeling of his dry throat becoming more and more satisfied with every desperate gulp, his dehydration slowly quelled by the cool drink. With a gasp, he slammed the container on the bar top, pain searing his chest with every breath. The stallion panted, massaging his neck with his free hoof, attempting to lull the throb. He could still feel impact, recalling the flurry of stars that had filled his vision. Even now, his mind spun every time he dared to close his eyes. The earth pony hoped to Celestia that he hadn't received any sort of permanent damage to his spine, and that the pain would depart soon. His body cried out in protest to any mere twitch or movement, but that didn't halt his tenacious mind.

There wasn't a thing in Equestria that would stop him now, at least not without a fight. He had waited for what seemed like an eternity already, and his everlasting patience was starting to wear thin. He couldn't let a trivial thing such as pain keep him from finding Cunning's treasure now, after wading through the obstacles of the past two days. It was as if the world was doing everything it could to delay their quest, and the stallion was not going to let it happen again. He knew the dangers of physical activity while retaining such injuries, for this wasn't the first time he had hurt himself. However, even the impatient Daring Do had told him to go back to the apartment and rest. She even said that she would wait for him to heal.

But why would she do that? The pegasus had made it very clear that she couldn't wait another second to find the last clue, so what changed? Injuries such as what Braeburn was enduring would take well over a week to heal, and Daring knew that. The stallion, however, couldn't keep his pain from delaying their search any further. Even the thought of such weakness brought a pang of guilt to his thoughts, immediately rejecting such a selfish idea. No, he would keep going, even if his body couldn't take it. Braeburn arched his spine backward, attempting to crack it in a relieving manner. But as life would have it, he found that his pain wasn't deriving from his bones, but his aching muscles. He cast a thought toward the possibility of the impact pulling vital muscles, something that would take ice and relaxation to properly heal. He cursed his rotten luck, taking another swing from his canteen.

Realizing he hadn't yet inspected the gunsmith's work, Braeburn reached a wary hoof over his shoulder and unsheathed his rifle. Before, Thumper's action had been clunky, being such an old weapon. But now, the lever racked with smoothness beyond Goldstar's newer rifle, a task that he didn't fully understand, but greatly appreciated. He worked the action several times, unable to believe Gunmetal Grey's flawless work. Once he was satisfied, the riflepony laid Thumper out on the bar top, studying the scroll-work etching in the receiver. The gunsmith had even cleared the dirt from the curled engraving, giving the rifle the guise of a brand-new weapon. He brushed a curious hoof over the apple next to the cartridge gate when a memory sprung to life in his mind.

He recalled the day Bullet Thyme had first showed him the weapon. His father told him the story of the engraving, which symbolized the meeting of the Apple Family and his own. The traditional scroll-work represented his family's legacy of producing legendary rifleponies, and the etched fruit symbolized the Apple Family's heritage. It was a mural that held a vast amount of meaning, something only they could understand. Braeburn smiled at the artwork before he loaded the tubular magazine with a hoof-full of rounds from his duster, making sure that the exposed hammer was safely down. With extreme care, Braeburn stretched his foreleg back and sheathed the rifle, craning his neck to crack his spine.

As if on cue, the back door opened to reveal Daring Do, pacing slowly over the threshold and around the bar. He expected to see her eyes alight with excitement, but found that her worried demeanor hadn't changed since he arrived at the abandonned saloon. She didn't immediately look at him, but returned to her seat on his right. Eventually, she cast her gaze over him, visually inspecting his injuries. The only visible wounds he bore were on his chest and right cheek, and her eyes flickered between them with uncertainty.

"How are you feeling?" she asked quietly, her warm tone catching the stallion off-guard. "And don't say you're 'fine,' tell me what hurts."

Braeburn hesitated, but ultimately answered. He couldn't lie to the pegasus; she deserved to know. "Ah think my back is the worst. Sprained muscles or something."

"Is that why you've been arching your back?"

"Well...yeah. That and my neck."

"And you still think you're able to do this?"

Braeburn's smirk returned to his face, ignoring the stinging pain in his cheek. "O' course!"

Daring's eyes half-squinted at his expression, as if to scope out any sort of uncertainty about his answer. Eventually, she let out a sigh, apparently unable to argue any further. She bent down and heaved her saddlebags onto the bar, withdrawing her first-aid kit from its depths. "Well I can't stop you from making your own decisions, but I can at least replace those bandages for you. They're already bleeding through."

Ignoring his initial recoil, the pegasus turned on her haunches to face him, gripping the taped gauze with both hooves and tearing it off quickly. Braeburn winced as his fur was pulled, feeling a fresh flow of blood trickle down his cheek. Daring immediately stopped the flow with a dry cloth, preparing a fresh bandage with her free hoof and teeth. With a tired, almost apathetic expression, she scrubbed the remaining dirt she had previously missed from his wound, redressing it with a new patch of gauze.

"Where'd Shines run off to?" he asked, distracting his mind from the pain.

"Nopony's coming back here today, not after what the sheriff said. So he called it a day and went home," she answered quietly, tearing off the bandage from his chest. He grit his teeth as the air seemed to tear at the gash, a flow of crimson running down his stomach. She quickly caught the trickle of blood with her rag, repeating the cleaning process on his chest. Braeburn felt awkward at her touch, having never been taken such care of before. Braeburn was certain he was capable of redressing his own wounds, but felt that debating that with the pegasus was an idea in vain.

Silence filled the empty saloon, save for the occasional grunt of pain uttered from Braeburn's lips. To his despair, the stallion couldn't think of a word to say, desperate to distract his muddled mind from the mare's touch.

"Braeburn?" she asked suddenly. "Can I trust you?"

The earth pony tilted his head at her. The question was in no way prompted, but didn't come out of nowhere either. She had something on her mind, that much was evident. Instead of returning her query with another, he replied: "O' course ya' can."

Daring exhaled through her nose, patting down the tape that held the gauze in place. However, she didn't remove her hoof from his chest once the deed was done. She merely kept it there, pressed lightly against his coat with her eyes focused on nothing in particular. "I guess...I guess I know that..."

"Then why'd ya' ask?" he replied, mentally fending off the blood rising to his cheeks.

The dark-yellow pegasus curled her lips into an uncertain expression, retracting her foreleg. "Because life hasn't given me the privilege of being able to trust anypony...even the nice ones like you."

The pegasus looked away from him, leaning her elbows on the wooden bar with her monochromatic bangs veiling her eyes from view. Braeburn could only stare at her, his mouth slightly open. His thoughts raced, trying to find a reason for her question. Hadn't he given her reason enough to trust him? Perhaps whatever happened to her in the past was simply that traumatizing. But who could have taken her ability to trust anypony? Who could have scarred such a kind, innocent mare like that? A wave of sympathy overtook the riflepony. Braeburn leaned forward, wrapping his forelegs around her shoulders. She made a small noise of surprise, before ultimately relaxing in his embrace.

"Ah don't know what happened Daring, or who hurt ya', but just know that Ah would never do such a thing to you."

The mare seemed to hold back a sniff, resting her chin on his foreleg. "I...I trust you Braeburn."

Eight - Discoveries and Revelations

Step by painful step, the beige stallion followed the gliding pegasus overhead. The sun was at its apex for the day, the previous breeze absent from the streets. Braeburn wondered how in Equestria the mare was able to take being even closer to the sun, as he was heavily perspiring at ground level. The ponies of Dodge Junction were out and about again, forming a fair amount of hoof-traffic in the dirt roads. The riflepony kept his head low, the brim of his Stetson veiling his eyes from passersby. For the past ten minutes, he had been bombarded by a veritable onslaught of appreciative ponies, all trying to get a word from the heroic stallion once again. While he was grateful for their kind words, Braeburn was in no condition to delay their departure from the dusty town. To his surprise, whenever they were stopped by an inquisitive pony, Daring hadn't hurried the process along like she had in Silver Snips' shop. Instead, she merely stood aside and waited patiently, giving him a covert grin from afar.

Braeburn couldn't explain her sudden willingness to wait, but didn't take any advantage of it. Ever since they left the tattered saloon, he noticed a slow change in her personality. Usually Daring Do was restless and outspoken, but by now she seemed more relaxed, and even cut back on her familiar jibes and sarcasm. The mare even laughed a little more. It seemed that with every word they exchanged now, the previously seclusive archaeologist opened herself up more and more. Overall, she was simply happy, and Braeburn loved to see it in her. She was a pony that he had longed to befriend, and the feeling was easily enough to distract him from his injuries.

"Sorry fer takin' so long Daring," he said, pacing slowly underneath her. The pegasus cast Braeburn an odd look before landing alongside him, folding her wings at her sides.

"Don't be," she replied simply. "But I guess it is your hardheadedness keeping you going, so think what you want."

Braeburn shook his head with a grin as they crossed the outskirts of Dodge Junction. Ahead to the North was a vast expanse of desert, the horizon distorted from the sun's heat. To the West stood a long range of red and orange plateaus, opening into a thin valley down the line.

"So through that valley, right?" Daring asked, pointing to the opening in the range.

"Yup," he replied quietly, panting from his audacity to simply move. The pegasus shot him a concerned look. Braeburn quickly gathered himself, hiding his grunt of agony.

"Braeburn please," she pleaded, taking a step toward him. "Just reconsider this."

"Ah have," he replied, composing his voice. "And Ah'm doin' this."

Daring searched him with her eyes, tapping an uncertain hoof to the dirt. She was conflicted, and he understood that. But in the end, even her pleading words wouldn't stop him. If Braeburn's body couldn't take any more, it would let him know. For now he could move, and the stallion planned to take every advantage of the opportunity.

Finally, Daring uttered a snort, conceding. "Fine, but if you die out there, I'm not carrying your body back."

Braeburn smiled, taking lead toward the West. "Good to know."

With a resounding crack, a strong pair of hooves collided with a large tree, immediately rewarded with a hail of yellow Appleloosan fruits. The tall middle-aged stallion turned his neck with a snap, scowling at the poor ratio of healthy apples in the baskets around the thick trunk. It had been years since he had been forced to work in the orchard himself. As the farm grew, so did its profits, and in the end the future of their business depended on a mind able to direct its assets. Despite his entirely different way of life, Bullet Tyme had no choice but to be that pony. Unfortunately, every one of his usual workers were still incapacitated. As if that wasn't enough, Bullet had no other choice but to call for assistance.

"Uncle B, are ya' sure yer able to buck the apples? Ya' look tired."

The sand-colored stallion shot his niece an off look. The orange mare was drenched in perspiration, her blonde mane matted to her forehead under a tilted Stetson.

"O' course Ah can! What kinda' question is that?"

Applejack's brow furrowed, her head cocking back in surprise. "Now what was that all about?"

Bullet Tyme turned his head away from the orange earth pony, kicking over an empty basket in frustration. He couldn't so much as look in her general direction, shame flooding his mind. He let out a slow breath, closing his eyes. As Bullet collected himself, Applejack waited patiently without another word.

"Ah'm sorry AJ," he sighed. "Ah shouldn't be hagglin' ya'. Ah appreciate what yer doin' here."

The farmpony walked into his vision as Bullet opened his eyes. She curled her lips into an amused smirk, understanding his anger. "What's family for?"

"Why dontcha' ask that..." he trailed off, containing his words. Applejack exhaled through her nose.

"Ya' just can't take what he's doin' huh?"

"What he's doin' ain't right," Bullet seethed. "Takin' off with that mare on some sorta' blinded scheme, when he should be workin' like the rest o' us! Ah shouldn't have ta' call ya' back here after ya' just left!"

"Whoa there!" she replied, making a calming gesture with a forehoof. "Ah get that yer mad Uncle B, but Braeburn's only doin' what's right by the farm!"

"By chasin' a foal's tale?" Bullet scoffed, his frustration returning.

"You didn't see what that mare showed us," Applejack retorted, her tone level.

"Ah don't care what a pony says, that doesn't make it true," Bullet said quietly, his nostrils flaring into a snarl. "Look, we ain't gonna make any progress on these apples by talkin'."

"Looks like you've underestimated the help," Applejack grinned, cocking her head toward the orchard. Bullet traced her gaze to the two mares from afar. One was a unicorn with a coat of light purple, controlling a fog of violet magic to yank the fruits loose from their branches. Ahead to the North side of the farm was another one of Applejack's friends, tearing through the trees in the form of a cyan blur, a trail of multiple colors behind her. Despite his desire to stick to the traditional means of apple-bucking, he couldn't argue with her friends' results. The orchard was nearly bare of any fruits, and would soon be sorted to find the limited healthy apples.

Bullet Tyme sighed. "Well Ah'll be. Ah guess you were right. Ta' think Ah only called fer Big Mac."

"He ain't goin' nowhere with that bad ankle o' his," she replied. "But look here Uncle B, just don't be too hard on Braeburn. Ah'm sure he won't come back empty hoofed. Ya' know he only wants what's best fer the business."

The tall stallion exhaled, looking into the near-empty baskets on the ground. "Ah know he does. Ah just wish that boy had a clear head about it."

"I think that's it!" declared a voice. Bullet looked over to find the purple unicorn smiling over a full bushel of apples. She cast a glance to the North, calling to the pegasus: "How about you Rainbow?"

A pale blue head poked out from the branches of a particularly high tree, the mare's prismatic mane lined with twigs and leaves. "Waiting for you to be done Twilight! Looks like wings beat magic! Ha!"

Even from the distance between them, Bullet could see the violet unicorn roll her tired eyes, clearly spent from the heat. The stallion leaned his head down toward his niece, whispering: "They were havin' a contest?"

"Maybe in Rainbow's mind they were," Applejack snickered.

"Well whatever works," he replied. "Okay then, round them up fer lunch and meet me in the kitchen."

The orange mare raised her eyebrows. "But we still have the South fields to-"

"What'd Ah say AJ?" he interrupted, walking back toward the barn. "Ya'll did a good job today, and those two were kind enough ta' help us without even gettin' paid fer it. Least Ah can do is give 'em somethin' fer their time and work."

"Alright, but one more thing," she said, catching the stallion's attention. "Whatever ya' do, don't mention the mare that Braeburn took off with in front o' Rainbow Dash."

Bullet Tyme raised an eyebrow, bewildered. "Why's that?"

Applejack uttered a small laugh. "Trust me Uncle B, ya' don't wanna know."

Braeburn reveled in the cooling shadow cast by the high walls of the valley, lines of red and orange tracing the plateaus' path in a stack of neat rows. It was as if the gods themselves had piled the two different colors of sedimentary rock atop each other, for their uniformed look was simply too magnificent for even mother nature herself to form. Daring was even able to take to the skies above a little more comfortably, soaring in excited circles as Braeburn limped below. The riflepony looked up to her with a sense of envy.

The earth pony had always wondered what it would be like to fly, even if for a moment. Yet another aspect of the archaeologist that he could find particularly interesting. He found that merely asking what the feeling was like was comparable to asking a fish what it was like to live underwater. Overall, such an inquiry would prove simply pointless. However, Braeburn still longed to know. A part of him wished that he wasn't so much taller and heavier than the pegasus, just so the endeavor would be at least possible if she were to carry him. But in the end, Braeburn was a pony meant for the ground, where he thrived like any other earth pony. From the skies above, Daring Do performed a few vertical loops in the air, turning in a rather messy corkscrew. Before he could so much as yelp in fright, the pegasus skidded across the dirt on her hooves in front of him, a bright smile on her face.

"Whoaho! Did you see that? I almost got it that time!" she exclaimed, her rose eyes alight with elation.

"What's this all of a sudden?" Braeburn mused. "Tryin' to be some kind o' acrobat or somethin'?"

A bashful look came over the pegasus' face as she joined him in a slow walk. "Oh, well...no. It's just kind of a hobby I've been messing around with."

"Anything in particular that inspired that? Seems like a heck of a contrast from archaeology."

Daring snorted a chuckle. "Well it wasn't exactly something. More like somepony."

"Oh yeah? A special somepony?" he teased, receiving an immediate punch to his uninjured shoulder.

"Don't be fresh with me, you walking corpse," she chided. "No. It was actually some pegasus I read about in the newspaper a couple of years back. Do you follow those kinds of things?"

Braeburn gestured to his sides. "D'ya see any wings here?"

"Anyway," she sighed, wading through his sarcasm. "There was an article about some competition she won in Cloudsdale. There were a whole bunch of pictures of her stunts. It was pretty awesome. I guess I kind of use her as a sort of role model for my hobby. It's pretty stupid, I know."

The stallion's eyebrows twitched, a memory coming back to him. "Huh."

"What?"

"What was that pony's name?" he asked.

"Rainbow Dash, why?"

Braeburn barked out a painful laugh, recalling the rainbow-colored mare that accompanied his cousin to Appleloosa almost two years ago. Daring stopped in her tracks, a look of confusion forming on her face as he chuckled.

"What in the hay is so funny about that?" she asked, completely clueless. It may have taken a minute, but eventually Braeburn caught his haggard breath.

"Oh sweet Celestia. When this is all over, we gotta make a trip out to Ponyville," he grinned, returning to his slow pace.

Daring trotted alongside him, tilting her head to one side. "Ponyville? What's in Ponyville?"

"Let's call it a surprise," he said, averting the conversation with another. "So there's somethin' I've been meanin' to ask ya'."

"Um...okay?" she replied. With her response, something came over her. Daring's pace slowed down a step, a sense of worry emanating from her. Braeburn guessed that she was still adjusting to opening up to another pony. Perhaps she was afraid that he was going to ask a question of her past. However, he couldn't find himself feeling comfortable with any more prying. She knew that she could trust him, and he would let Daring come clean when she was ready.

"You said my name would be in the papers when we found Cunning's treasure," he started. "Where's yer name gonna be?"

"Oh," she sighed in relief. "That. Well, whenever one of my finds gets an article somewhere, my name gets withheld. Keeps the readers of those darned books off my back."

"Okay, here's my problem with that..." Braeburn said, preparing his counter. "Ya' said yer problem with the books was the reactions ya' got from ponies. Wouldn't being published prove that you were a real pony, and not some kinda fanfilly?"

"So you're perceptive all of a sudden?" she smirked.

"Ah said that Ah've been meanin' to ask," he clarified.

"Fair enough," Daring shrugged. "Well that was my...original reason. I guess I just got used to the idea over time."

"Why's that? Wouldn't ya' want ponies to know of yer work?"

"I don't do what I do for fame," she said smugly. "I do it because I love my work. I couldn't imagine doing anything else. Sometimes things like having my name on a plaque or something just...doesn't matter to me. I sap every ounce of happiness I'll ever need out of what I do. I wish you knew what it's like to search through an ancient tomb, after trekking through miles of forest just to find it. It's just...exhilarating; the feeling when you find something nopony has stepped hoof in for hundreds, sometimes even thousands of years. I guess I can't really explain it accurately."

Braeburn didn't bother to tell Daring that she had stopped in her tracks, lost in thought. He merely kept his mouth shut and listened, taking the opportunity to sit in the shadow of the tall valley. The earth pony found himself enjoying her short monologue, settling down and letting his aching joints rest for a moment.

The pegasus blinked a few times, looking around herself. "Oh, sorry. Got lost in thought I guess."

"Ah'm actually glad ya' did. If you can just gimme a few more minutes, that'd be just dandy," he said, cracking his neck in several places. Daring replied with yet another worried look. Knowing that her words would only be in vain, she sighed, plopping down on the ground next to him. "So when did ya' start...well, explorin' caves and tombs and things like that?"

"You mean archaeology?" she smiled, uncapping her canteen and taking a long swig. "Well I guess it started when I was a real little filly; about six-years-old. Me and my parents were taking a walk through the forest one day and we got separated. My Dad was always teaching me how to use the stars and the positions of the sun and moon to navigate by direction, even when I was that young. That night I made it back to our house, and when my parents came back they pointed out my cutie mark. I was so scared that night, I hadn't even noticed that it appeared."

In her recollection, Daring Do had curled herself into a ball on the ground, fondness in her eyes as she spoke.

"My Dad was actually a famed archaeologist," she continued, apparently lost in her memories. "After I got my mark, he took me all across Equestria on his searches, sometimes even outside the country. I think those were my favorite fillyhood memories right there. Adventuring with my father across uncharted territory, cataloging our finds..."

The pegasus sighed in content, raising her head to gaze off into the cloudless sky. "I'm sorry, I'm rambling I guess. I've just never really been able to share any of that with another pony before."

"Can't see why not," Braeburn replied. "Just seems like a fond memory is all."

"Well...it's not. Not really..." she said, her expression falling into something more sorrowful. But that didn't stop her from standing to her hooves, shaking the look off her face. "Now come on and get up. Those mines are just around that bend, right?"

Braeburn groaned inwardly, turning his head to the cornering valley ahead. "It sure as shoot is."

"Well let's go!" she exclaimed, pulling the stallion forcibly to his hooves. Braeburn choked back a cry of agony, his pride keeping his lips shut. Thankfully Daring hadn't noticed in her renewed excitement, and took the lead down the path. At least she's lettin' herself open up, he thought. Better than keepin' it bottled inside. But even still, Braeburn was eager to know more about her. He couldn't explain it to himself, but the stallion simply wished to know everything of the real Daring Do, especially of what had scarred her in the past. If he could just break that last barrier, Braeburn felt confident that he could...he could what? Why did he care so much about consoling her? Perhaps it was simply that jubilant air she had emanated since their talk in the saloon; the smile that brought him a such a deep sense of warmth. Maybe he was just trying too hard to be her friend. Companionship wasn't something the stallion was used to, so it made sense...right?

Braeburn shook his head, returning his thoughts to the task at hoof: finding Cunning's last clue. He brought himself back to reality, finding that Daring had already disappeared around the bend. Before he could so much as raise a hoof to start ahead, he heard Daring cry out: "AHA!"

Alarmed, Braeburn limped as quick as he could around the corner of the valley. To his relief, he found that the pegasus had located the entrance to the mines. Ten yards down the path was a large wooden threshold built into the red stone around a dark tunnel. Several lengths of ancient wood blocked the way, nailed haphazardly to the frame. Despite Daring's elation, Braeburn immediately found that there wasn't an opening in the blockade large enough to accommodate either one of them. As he approached the entrance in the dead end, the mare started to inspect the old wood.

"Do you know when this was blocked off?" she asked absentmindedly.

"So the historian doesn't know a thing about Dodge Junction's past, huh?" he teased, being rewarded with a facetious scowl over her shoulder. "Okay, okay. It was shut down a year after it was completed."

"Why's that?"

"It was supposed to be a silver mine," he answered simply. "No silver down there though. The mines were built from the hopes of one single nugget somepony found. So fer the safety of others, the town blocked the entrance off."

"Hold on a second," she said, her face suspicious. "How do you know so much about this place?"

"What? Ya' think just 'cause Ah'm a farmer means Ah don't know shoot about my hometown's history? Dodge is a small town, so there's not much to learn about in school besides its past."

"Huh. Well thanks for paying attention in school then," she said. Braeburn stepped forward, taking a closer look at the blockade. Each plank of wood was cracked in several places along its length, showing hundreds of years of age. However, when he pushed a curious hoof against it, the planks held surprisingly well. Without the presence of ambient moisture in the air, the wood wasn't able to weaken with mold. The stallion felt confident that he would have been able to drive a rearing kick right through the old blockade, but in his current condition, it was nothing more than an idea. Part of him wished that Daring had his cousin's hearty build, but that required a lifetime of hard farm work. Not only did the archaeologist have a small frame, but any muscles she had were thin and toned, nowhere near enough to buck through something like this.

"It's pretty solid. D'ya have a crowbar or somethin'?"

"Unfortunately not," she answered. "Can't you just shoot through it?"

Braeburn pursed his lips, nodding. "That's an idea. Stand back now."

The riflepony attempted to reach his hoof over his shoulder, grunting as his foreleg locked up in pain. Noticing his difficulty, Daring hovered above him and unsheathed Thumper. She placed it in his forehooves with a smile before landing several yards behind him, covering her ears. Braeburn carefully racked a cartridge into the chamber, moving the lever normally and without his usual flip. He leaned back onto his hindlegs in a crouch, and pointed the barrel to the center of the middle plank. He expected the round to shatter the cracked wood, but was surprised to see the results. When the rifle fired, all that happened to the old wood was a small round hole piercing through its center.

"What the hay?" came Daring's voice. The mare walked over to the entrance of the tunnel and inspected the plank. "Waaaaiiiiit a second. Braeburn, lemme see one of those cartridges."

The stallion wordlessly complied, racking a smoldering shell from the top of the receiver and popping out a new round. Daring took the brass cartridge, throwing a hoof to her forehead when she looked at it. "Brae, what caliber is this?"

"Well the boxes said .30-30, so Ah guess that's it," he shrugged.

The pegasus groaned. "And you didn't know that it was more of a piercing round?"

Braeburn raised an eyebrow in confusion. "Piercin' round? Ah dunno, is there some kinda difference?"

Daring groaned again. "Okay look, I may not know much about guns, but I do know about certain types of ammunition. How could you have grown up with a riflepony as a father and not know about this?"

"Ah never really listened to gun-talk as a colt. Wasn't interested," he answered truthfully. "So how do you know 'bout it?"

"I go to the saloon every other day Braeburn. In case you haven't noticed, guns have become quite popular in Dodge over the past few years. You tend to just hear ponies talking about it after going there for so long," she explained. "Regardless, this caliber is made for a little more penetration, not blunt force. You'd need something like a 12 gauge round for that, but that's more of a shotgun sort of thing."

"Well look at you," he laughed. "Lil' Miss Gunmare, aren't ya'?"

"This is stuff you should know, Brae-Brae," she grinned smugly, knowing just how much he despised the nickname. "But no matter, we can still get through this. How many more rounds do you have on you?"

Braeburn checked the loops that lined the interior of his duster, finding three more cartridges besides the four that were already occupying Thumper's tubular magazine. "Seven."

Daring sucked in a nervous breath through her teeth. "Well let's hope nopony tries to attack us again once we get outta there. Anyway, if you aim for the ends of the planks where the wood is weaker, they'll have a better chance of breaking. Try it."

"Right'o," he answered as the pegasus backed away again. The stallion closed the lever of his rifle, loading another round. He set the iron sights where the nails had split the wood, and fired the weapon. Once the first bullet cracked the plank, Braeburn unloaded another further down the split. He grinned triumphantly once he saw the old wood splinter off the frame, allowing him to grab it with his teeth and yank it out. The stallion stifled another grunt of pain as he threw it aside. With Daring's help, they were able to remove two more parts of the blockade, giving them enough room to squeeze through the opening. Once on the other side, Braeburn stowed his final round through the rifle's cartridge gate, hoping to Celestia that he wouldn't need it in the future.

The tunnel was pitch-black ahead, the only light barely threading through the wooden blockade behind them. However, Daring immediately lit a compact lantern, small enough to clip onto her satchels. The torch illuminated a few yards ahead of them, casting a flickering orange light. Other than their excited breaths, Braeburn could make out the faint sound of dripping water deep within the cave. Under the sand-laden floor, he could feel the rails for a mine cart, buried over due to the years of neglect. Without the sun's rays bearing down upon them, the dark tunnel was cool and comfortable. Braeburn sighed in content, wiping the remainder of the sweat from his brow. The cold air seemed to numb his agonized nerves, allowing him to drive on further behind the trotting pegasus.

"Is there any sort of law against trespassing in here?" Daring asked.

Braeburn stopped in his tracks, realization dawning upon him. "Uh...yeah. Actually there is."

"Ohhh really?" she replied, casting a bright grin over her shoulder. "Then this expedition just got a lot more fun in a real hurry."

"Um...how d'ya mean?" he asked awkwardly.

"You don't feel that?" she asked, her eyes bright. "The excitement, the elation and the adventure of it all? It's what keeps me going!"

"We don't even know fer sure that the last clue is here," he commented.

"Braeburn, don't kill this for me, okay? Be positive and just follow me. You had your time to shine in town, now it's my turn," she said, trotting back to his side and pushing him along. "Onward, valiant steed!"

As time passed, Braeburn and Daring Do stuck together through the mines, inspecting every turn and dead end in the narrow passages. It seemed the ponies that dug the caves hadn't gotten very far before they abandoned their hopes of striking silver, for the ends of the tunnels' reach didn't extend too far into the bedrock. Because of this, their search had only lasted for the better part of an hour. Despite the lack of immediate success, Daring had kept her head held high, determined that Cunning's final clue was somewhere in the mines. Braeburn, however, was not feeling quite as strong-willed at this point in time.

The earth pony had started to pant heavily, each step only bringing his sore neck and spine a jolt of pain. His back was starting to lock up, muscles stiffening without his consent. Holding back his gasps was no longer something that was possible, but Daring was so focused on her search that they never reached her ears. He silently scolded himself for being so foolhardy; running around Dodge Junction when any rationally-thinking pony would have went back home and healed. The cool air could only do so much, and his head was feeling lighter by the second. Braeburn kept liquids in his system by guzzling the warm water in his canteen. It wasn't dehydration slowing him down anymore; it was simply the pain.

But even when Braeburn came to the conclusion that he needed to rest, his confession was interrupted by the excited call of the mare in the neighboring tunnel: "Ohmygosh! Braeburn! Get in here!"

The stallion whipped his head around at the sudden noise, receiving a fresh throb of soreness in his neck as a result. He limped wearily out of the tunnel he was searching through, turning a corner to find Daring beaming at the stone wall of a dead end. Braeburn extinguished the flame of his own lantern with a turn of its switch, grunting with every step as he approached the mare. She didn't turn her gaze away from the wall, but kept her eyes on something that she was pointing to.

Inscribed into the orange rock was a faint picture, or at least some sort of illustration. On the left was a vertical rectangle with a small circle in its center. To its right was a long horizontal line, bent downward at a slight slope next to the rectangle. As he studied the engraving, Daring readied an ink-dipped quill, copying the image into a small notebook. Braeburn suddenly found it difficult to focus his eyes as their lids started to droop, his mind spinning.

"It's not like Cunning's other clues, but this could still be something! Can you make anything of it Brae? Brae?"

Daring gasped, catching the stallion before he could fall to the sandy cave floor. However, she had difficulty supporting his weight with the enormous height difference, and slowly placed him on his side. Braeburn panted, a cold chill rushing through his veins. His vision blurred again, Daring's form turning into a dark-yellow and green blob above him.

"Braeburn! Oh no, are you alright?! Say something!"

"I can't..." he coughed, his throat dry despite the water he had been drinking. "I can't...move..."

"O-Okay. I'll go get some help!"

"No...Ah'll be fine in a bit," Braeburn wheezed. "Just...gimme a second."

"Are you kidding me?!" she exclaimed, her patience for his stubbornness coming to an end. "No Braeburn! I'm getting you out of here and you're going to rest!"

With her annoyed scream of protest, the pegasus absentmindedly bucked the wall behind her in frustration. But the sound of hooves colliding with stone was not what was heard. Instead, the sound of rock grinding on rock echoed throughout the tunnel. Braeburn forced his eyes to focus as he felt the floor trembled underneath them. The noise grew steadily louder, causing the two of them to traverse the dead end with wide, startled eyes. As soon as it came, the quake had ceased, and all that was heard was a pair of quickened breaths.

"What the f-"

With the sound of falling stone and sand, the ground beneath them split in two, opening like a pair of enormous barn doors. The two yelped in sheer fright, falling down a large, dark tunnel. Quicker than his mind could comprehend, Braeburn felt his body collide with something hard, smooth and at a sharp descending angle. He let out a cry of agony as he fell down what felt like a steep stone slide, Daring close behind. Gravity accelerated their descent at an alarming rate, quickly dumping them into complete blackness. Braeburn gasped as he felt himself fall freely, hearing the mare call out his name almost incoherently.

His brain didn't have time to register what was happening before he crashed into a frigid pool of stagnant water. Braeburn couldn't tell if his eyes were open or not, for the darkness surrounding him was all but impenetrable. His body had had enough. The earth pony's muscles locked up as he sank into the pool's depths. Before he could lose consciousness, Braeburn felt a pair of forelegs close around his chest. The stallion inhaled a mouthful of water in surprise as he was yanked upward. He gasped, filling his lungs with stale air as he surfaced. The earth pony grunted, his spine screaming in protest as he was dragged onto a dry, stone surface.

"Brae...burn," Daring's voice panted. "Breathe, come on...just breathe and tell me you're okay."

Braeburn groaned wearily in response.

"Is anything broken?"

"N-No...Ah don't...think so..." he panted, sprawling out on his side as a sudden light glared in front of him. Daring had flicked two stones together from her bags, igniting a small black rock into a bright flame.

Daring Do knelt in front of him, studying Braeburn with large, worried eyes. Like him, the pegasus was soaked with stale water. Her mane was matted to her forehead and neck, dripping onto the stone underneath them. Her previously-torn sleeve had been completely ripped off, a thin line of crimson trickling down her foreleg. The white pith hat that usually rested atop Daring's head had been missing, allowing her ears to droop. "Can...can you move?"

"Not in...the foreseeable future...Ah reckon," he replied, taking in their surroundings.

They had fallen into a tall alcove deep underground, the high ceiling veiled in a black shadow. To his left was a small pool of water, still rippling from their fall. But over to the right was something that made Braeburn gasp in shock. Set into the flat bedrock was a tall burgundy door. In the center of the structure was some sort of circular indentation, which he couldn't completely make out from his angle. What he could see, Daring had apparently saw as well. The two stared in awe at what was written upon the door, engraved in the same fashion that the first two clues were:

Unlock the Door. Three of Three: My legacy is the key. -C.T.C.

Nine - Past Meets Present

Braeburn and Daring Do stared at the tall structure in front of them, eyes wide and jaws dropped. The door was built flawlessly into the wall, as if it had formed just as naturally as the dark stone that surrounded it. The beige earth pony pulled his upper torso forward, getting a better view of the oddity. In the middle of the door was an ovular indentation, two circular holes drilled vertically into the steel a few inches apart. The sheer size of the door held its own sense of divine purpose, as if the meaning of life itself was waiting for them behind it.

"What in the name of Celestia...?" Daring gasped, standing up and walking to the door. She placed a curious hoof to the steel, gazing over the engraving and the alleged lock. "Cunning must have built this..."

"But...how would he do that?" Braeburn asked, laying flat on his stomach.

"Well..." she started. "There's a number of explanations for something like this. He certainly had the means, I mean he did disappear from the world with the entirety of Dodge Junction's bank. At the time, money like that could make a pony the richest in the West. So when you think of that, the first explanation one can come to is that he paid a team to build it. But Cunning was a secretive pony, so perhaps he found a way to do it by himself without anypony being the wiser. That's...impressive. To think of what's behind this door...but, wait a second..."

Daring squinted at the final clue Cunning had left, as if to extrapolate some sort of hidden meaning. "But this right here...this doesn't make any sense! The first clue said to find his legacy, but this contradicts with that. His legacy is the treasure, so why would we need the treasure to find the treasure?"

"Maybe his 'legacy' wasn't the treasure in the first place," Braeburn suggested with a shrug. He hadn't expected a reaction out of his idea, and was surprised to see Daring Do freeze on the spot.

"So..." she pondered aloud. "...if that's true, then the point of the first clue was to find the key to this door...before we got this far."

Braeburn and Daring Do slowly exchanged a long look of horror. Dread filled the injured stallion's being as he craned his neck toward the ceiling of the underground alcove. The stone slide they had arrived through was shadowed in the outermost reaches of the fire's light, barely visible to his dreary eyes. The opening was a mere few inches from the stone ceiling, at around thirty feet in the air. Daring would be able to fly up there, but without the proper strength, it wouldn't be possible for her to carry him out as well. So unless she could find help outside, Braeburn was stuck, beaten and broken hundreds of feet underground.

"S-So...We need to find his legacy," he grunted, turning back to the pegasus. "Alright, no need to panic. You can fly up and outta here, right?"

"Yeah, I'm not hurt or anything. But..." she trailed off, walking towards him. The pegasus ruffled her feathers, spraying the floor beneath her with water. "What about you? I can't lift you out of here, so are you gonna be okay alone?"

"Ah'm not gonna be okay anywhere until my back loosens up," he admitted with a meek, reassuring grin. "So ya' might as well go."

Daring wore a look of uncertainty, her eyes unfocused on the stone floor between them. She fluttered her wings again, perhaps absentmindedly. The mare looked as if she wanted to say something, her legs halfway through another step toward his limp form. She stopped herself, biting her lower lip. "Alright, fine. I'll be right back."

With that, the pegasus took off into the air as quick as lightning, out of sight in the blink of an eye. Braeburn blinked a few times, bewildered. What was that? Her awkward hesitance, that sorrowful look in her eye...the earth pony furrowed his brow, attempting to ponder through his pounding migraine, but it was no good. The pain made it impossible to even think. He felt uncomfortable on the hard stone, and he slowly pushed himself into a sitting position. Every nerve in his body cried out in protest, the muscles in his back inflamed with agony. Once Braeburn made it to his haunches, his lungs convulsed with the extreme amount of effort the movement took to accomplish. The earth pony leaned forward, panting heavily with his elbows rested upon his outstretched hindlegs. He shivered from the cold water that drenched his entire body, letting his cowpony hat fall from his head. The cool underground air only doubled the water's bite, making him feel sick.

Braeburn tried his best not to panic, but found it difficult despite his reassuring words to Daring. How long would she be gone? Would he ever get out of this cave alive? He knew his thoughts to be nothing more than an overreaction, but rationality was a lost virtue to his racing mind. Thankfully, the sound of beating wings distracted the stallion from his fears.

Daring landed next to him clumsily, as if she were trying out a new pair of wings. Her eyes were wider than before, her lips slightly parted. "We...have a problem."

Braeburn winced, wondering what else in Equestria could possibly go wrong now. "...What?"

Daring stepped closer to the small fire, tapping a nervous hoof to the stone. "The floor above us...closed itself. It looks like Cunning made the entrance a one-way access."

The injured stallion froze, feeling his previously-burning nerves chill with dread. His breath quickened, unable to hold back his fear for much longer. "So we're...stuck down here?"

"I can't move the trapdoor," she said, her voice cracking. She slowly pointed a hoof to the towering door in front of them. "And without Cunning's legacy...we can't get through that door."

This wasn't good. Not only was Braeburn starting to lose his cool, but the seasoned archaeologist was as well. If she of all ponies was showing fear, then what could they do? The stallion couldn't panic now; he couldn't afford to. There had to be a way out of this, and he had no choice but to rally all of his dread and shove it into the deepest corners of his mind so he could think clearly. However, he was distracted by a small sound coming from the pegasus.

Daring Do was shoving desperately at the unmoving door, uttering incoherent noises of pleading. She ground her hindhooves across the floor, only pushing herself in the other direction. The pegasus flapped her wings several times, as if it would somehow assist her cause. Something was wrong; she was panicking. The dark-yellow mare shoved relentlessly, like a frightened filly fleeing from certain death. Braeburn forced himself to his hooves, painfully striding over to her.

"Daring! What're ya' doin'?" he exclaimed, steadying her shoulders with his forehooves. The mare was shivering, as if she had escaped a blizzard in the arctic. At his touch, Daring collapsed to her haunches, leaning a single hoof to the door in front of her. Her head fell, her monochromatic mane veiling her face.

The mare whimpered, her quivering voice not directed at anypony in particular: "Not again...not again..."

Braeburn spotted a single dark spot appear in the stone between her forehooves as she gasped quietly. "Daring, what's goin' on?"

The pegasus turned on her haunches, throwing her forelegs around his neck. She buried her face into his damp mane, sobbing uncontrollably. Braeburn gaped inwardly, a look of bewilderment forming on his face. What was going on? Why was the fearless treasure-hunter breaking down so quickly and so easily? It didn't make any sense. Regardless, Braeburn exhaled, and gripped her tightly. They sat there or a while, the stallion holding the crying mare without a word. He ignored his throbbing back, sitting on his haunches and defying the pain. Whatever was bothering the pegasus, this was simply more important to him. He didn't ask any more questions, for he knew she was about to let it all go.

"We c-can't be stuck in here Brae..." she whispered, her voice cracking.

"We'll get out Daring, it's okay," the stallion whispered back, confident in his answer. "Now just tell me, what's wrong?"

Despite her hold on him, Daring gripped his shoulders even tighter, pressing her face into his chest. "Th-This...This is how they d-died Braeburn..."

"How who died?"

With a shuddering gasp, Daring Do slowly let him go. She didn't move, but only looked down to the spotted floor. His sympathetic heart urged Braeburn to do anything to help the mare. He reached out an aching hoof, wiping the tears from her brilliant rose eyes. Ignoring her noise of surprise, the stallion brushed her bangs to one side, revealing her sorrowful face in full. The pegasus only stared at him, contemplating her next words carefully. There were two different kinds of looks a crying mare could have. Some looked distraught when they fell apart, letting their sorrow distort their face. Daring, however, forced an unfamiliar pang to Braeburn's heart. He hated seeing her like this, but at the same time the stallion couldn't help but take in her natural...well, beauty. He had never noticed it before now, but the mare in front of him bore a look of sad, almost divine pulchritude.

"My..." she started, breaking him away from his temporary stupor. She broke eye contact, looking back to the floor. With a sigh, Daring prepared to share her thoughts. "...Braeburn, this is something I haven't shared with anypony, ever, and for good reason too. It's why I can't trust anypony except my godfather, and sometimes even that's hard. I...I don't even know why I'm telling you this. You don't need to worry about me."

"O' course Ah do," Braeburn replied. "Yer...yer the only pony Ah've been able to call a true friend. That means a lot to me...you mean a lot to me. Now please, let it out Daring. Don't do it fer me; do it fer yerself."

"Thank you Brae," the mare smiled, sniffing quietly. "When my father started taking me along on his expeditions, there was one temple outside of Equestria that he had been looking for ever since he was in college; the Tomb of the Sapphire Statue. After years of research, he finally had an idea of where it was. All of the clues pointed to a small, uninhabited region in the rainforest South of Equestria. My mother had recently started going with us because, well, it was fun. I loved doing those kinds of things with my parents; they were the best times of my life. The three of us contributed our minds with each puzzle and clue, and sometimes I would even figure something out by myself, even as a filly..."

Braeburn listened closely, fascinated by the story she was finally telling. He was hearing the tale of the real Daring Do, not the protagonist from a series of foals' novels.

"...After a week-long airship ride to the jungle, the three of us started our quest to find the Tomb of the Sapphire Statue; a temple of nothing more than mythology. But my father was convinced it was real, just like I was convinced that Cunning the Colt was real. However, we never found it...but we did find something else entirely. Hidden in the middle of the jungle was an ancient statue of the mythical creature; Ahuitzotl. As you may know, the creature turned out to be much more than a mere myth, but that's neither here nor there. As it turned out, the statue was a trap set by Ahuitzotl himself, to keep others from having a chance of finding the tomb. My Dad pulled on its arm, and..."

Daring choked, her eyes glazing over once again. "...th-they fell into a pit, disguised as the forest floor. Before I could go after them, a stone slab closed the opening, and they were trapped underground. I panicked, and pounded my hooves on the stone. They called out to me, and told me to go get Artemis for help. He was back at the ship, which he flew for us. I complied, but it was taking forever. By the time I got him back to the statue, it had already been over two nights. We had trekked far into the rainforest, and it took too long to get the trapdoor open. When we did...it was t-too late. Th-They ran out of air and...and..."

He didn't need to hear the rest of her sentence, for the message was clear. Braeburn felt a throbbing pain in his heart for the mare, whom had been shattered by a cruel twist of fate at such a young age. It was no wonder now why she was so fearful of being trapped here. Who could blame her? Their predicament was nothing more than a painful reminder of her broken fillyhood. The stallion couldn't imagine dealing with such a horrid tragedy himself. Would he have been able to? Braeburn shuddered inwardly at the thought, thankful now more than ever that his own father was in such good health and was in no danger of passing anytime soon. She gasped as a fresh wave of sorrow overtook her, tears spilling from her eyes once again. The riflepony went to hug her again, but evidently Daring wasn't finished with her story.

"Artemis flew me back to Equestria, and the entire time I couldn't stop crying. I had seen my parents once the door was opened...it was horrible. They were just laying there, cold and l-lifeless. Artemis took care of me the entire flight back, promising me that everything was going to be alright. When we arrived in Canterlot, he took me in. Ever since then, I called Artemis my godfather. It was appropriate, I guess. He was a friend of my parents since college, and I couldn't imagine anypony else being more fit for the position. I grew up under his care, and he couldn't have been a better guardian, even if he was a little overprotective at times. But...some part of me couldn't let the Tomb of the Sapphire Statue go undiscovered. Over the years I did nothing but review my father's notes, preparing myself to find the temple once again. Artemis never knew of it, and I made sure to keep it that way. He would've only tried to deter me from going there again."

"The day I turned eighteen and moved out of my godfather's home, I took a different airship service to the jungle, determined to find the tomb again. The rest of that story, you already know. What the book didn't say, was that there was another pony with me when I went through the tomb. At the time I was dating a colt named Dusty Trails. He was an up-and-coming novelist, and wanted to catalog my findings in the tomb. I told him that it was dangerous, but he stuck by me all the same. He even gathered the team of archaeologists from the university he attended. They were the ponies I would then work with for six years. I thought that they would be helpful, and they were, but...one of them didn't make it out alive. While the book exaggerated the interior of the temple, there were still a bunch of ancient traps to keep ponies from finding the treasure within. One particular trap almost reached me, but I was able to jump out of the way just in time. Dusty...didn't make it... The falling axe came out of nowhere, and he tripped over his own hooves in fright. I thought that seeing my parents dead in a hole was bad, but...this was so much worse. I watched helplessly as the blade came down and...s-sliced..."

Braeburn couldn't take it anymore. He leaned forward and wrapped his forelegs around her again, wincing as he felt tears of his own running down his cheeks. This explained everything about the mare; her seclusive nature, and maybe even her brash mannerisms. How could the world be so unforgiving to such an innocent pony like Daring? What had she done to deserve such pain? Her trauma was like nothing Braeburn could ever even imagine, and all he wanted to do was hold the pegasus until it all went away.

"Th-That tomb took three ponies close to my heart from me," she sobbed into his chest. "B-But I couldn't let it win, I just couldn't. I continued my search the next week, and almost lost my own life in the process. As the years went by, I couldn't find a pony that could stick by me in my quests. The other two colts I was with just left me once I told them about Dusty. But...I can't blame them, I guess. My life just never had room for them. That's why I haven't been able to let anypony in, why Artemis told you not to hurt me. I'm sorry Braeburn, I shouldn't have brought you with me in here...all I did was repeat the whole blasted process!"

"Hey now," he whispered, his voice warm. "Ah made my own choices, and Ah know we're not gonna be stuck in here. Ah'm not lookin' to be yer coltfriend or nothin', just somepony to help ya', a friend. Ah'm confident that we can find a way out. You didn't come all this way and work this hard just to die here. Ah promise."

He let her go, wiping the moisture from his eyes. The stallion didn't bother to hide it, for he wanted to make sure Daring knew that he truly cared about her, and there was no shame in that.

"Do you really think that?" she asked, her expression desperate.

Braeburn smiled. "O' course, yer Daring Do! If anypony's gonna find a way outta here, it's you."

The pegasus sniffed, a small smile of her own returning to her lips. The stallion's heart warmed at the sight. There she was again, the fearless mare with the brightest of eyes. "Thank you Brae...I don't know how I can ever repay you for this."

"Ya' don't have to do a thing," he replied. "Well, except fer gettin' us the hay outta here, o' course. Now, no more tears. Let's do this."

"Okay, but...I've got a little bit of sappiness left. Just lemme get rid of it," she whispered. Daring leaned forward and embraced him once more, as tight as she could. "You mean a lot to me too, Braeburn."

With her mind clear now, Daring Do let him go and walked out of the firelight. Before Braeburn could ask, the pegasus returned into the light with her pith hat sitting proudly atop her head. Her trademark grin had returned, and the stallion could tell that the treasure-hunter was back and more whole than ever before.

"Alright, game time," she announced, her excited voice echoing loudly around the cavern. "We need to have his legacy to open the door, maybe that's a metaphor for something. Before we can speculate, we have to consider the drawing we found over the trapdoor that dropped us in here. Could a miner have engraved that? Yes, but it seems like a huge coincidence to me. Not only was it directly above the entrance to this alcove, but part of it looked like the door in front of us. The shape next to it though...I haven't a clue of what it resembled. If I'm right, it's the key to opening the door."

Daring Do walked over to the towering steel structure, grazing a hoof around the odd, ovular indentation. She contemplated it for a few moments before continuing: "Now what can fit into here? What is the so-called legacy that will lead us to Cunning the Colt's treasure?"

While she pondered, Braeburn uncomfortably removed Thumper's scabbard from his back, placing it to the stone floor in front of him. Knowing full and well that he lacked any idea of what Cunning's legacy was, he wondered if the single cartridge in his duster was ruined after being submerged. He absentmindedly withdrew the round from his jacket, gazing at the brass in his hooves. The dark bullet seemed very well-sealed into the gold-colored cartridge, so perhaps the gunpowder inside had remained dry even in the water. He was thankful that they weren't in a situation where he would need his rifle anymore, but their current endeavor didn't seem much better.

"I dunno," came her voice. "Even with the clues we have, I'm at a loss. Heck, I'm starting to think that Thumper is...is..."

Braeburn, whom had unsheathed the rifle to inspect its condition, looked back up to Daring. The pegasus wore a shocked look of apparent realization. Her wide eyes fell upon the weapon, her jaw agape. She ran over to him, sitting on her haunches and taking the rifle in her forehooves. "Braeburn! This is it!"

"Okay...what?"

"It has the same shape as the slanted line from the picture up in the mines!" she exclaimed excitedly.

Braeburn cocked an eyebrow, lids lowering. "Daring, Ah know ya' wanna get through that door, but there's no way Thumper's the key. Ah think yer a little delirious at this point."

"But it makes so much sense!" she almost yelled, her grin brighter than her eyes. "You said Thumper was passed down your family tree since it was made, so who's to say that it didn't come from Cunning the Colt himself?"

"Yer sayin' that Cunning, the legendary Colt of the West, the most infamous criminal in Equestrian history...is my ancestor?" he said flatly, the very idea being the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard. "That is mighty preposterous."

"So wasn't Cunning's existence until I found the proof!" she replied, utterly convinced. "You said yourself that nopony had a clue of Thumper's true origins, so this could be the answer! It could also explain how you and your father are such talented rifleponies!"

"Daring, just hold on a second," he said, holding up a forehoof for emphasis. Yeah, Ah came from a family of orchard folk, and a family of rifleponies, but just look at Thumper! There is nothing on that gun that could fit into that door, just look at it!"

The pegasus cocked her head back, complying. She inspected every inch of the rifle as quick as she could, turning it over and over in her hooves. However, Braeburn's words being confirmed didn't deter her excitement. "Maybe there's something on the inside that will open the door!"

"Okay, Ah really, really hate burstin' yer bubble, but Ah think that Gunmetal Grey would've found something odd like that when he cleaned it. Not to mention the years of work he's done to it when my Pa owned it."

"Braeburn, please," she said quietly, her expression determined. "To be quite honest, Thumper is our only chance to open that door, so you're darned right I'm gonna take it. Just let me do this. It isn't just some crackpot idea, it's very possible. I just listed off four reasons for my theory to be confirmed, and it's our only chance outta here!"

"But there's no way-"

"Braeburn!" she yelled, her eyes narrowed into his own. "What did I say was the most important attribute of an archaeologist? Faith! Without it, we'd never know about the first ponies to exist in Equestria. We'd never know who won the wars of ancient times, and we'd never know that Cunning the Colt was a real freaking pony!"

The stallion stopped dead in his tracks, his chest deflating in guilt. She was right; this was, in every way, their only way through the door. Who was he to object her idea? It was, by all rights, plausible. Despite this, Braeburn still shivered at the thought of such an infamous bandit being his great-great-great-great...ancestor. "Alright, but even if yer right, Ah have no idea how to take that apart, let alone find somethin' that Gunmetal couldn't."

"Well, let's think of it this way," she replied, cooling down. "What part of a rifle would he never need to take apart?"

Braeburn took the weapon back in his own hooves, contemplating the question. Again, the stallion knew next to nothing about the inner-workings of a rifle, but he did have a general idea. The steel receiver in the middle held the most-intricate working parts, which would have been the first thing Gunmetal would take apart. At one end was the barrel, bound by two steel bands to the tubular magazine. Both lengths of metal were cylindrical like the openings of the door's lock, but were far too close together to be considered as a possible key. Behind the receiver was the larger rear stock, a solid expanse of wood. Where a pony's shoulder would rest was a steel butt-plate, bearing just as much dark patina as the rest of the gun. Holding the metal to the wood were a pair of screws on the top and the bottom. As far as he knew, the rear stock was completely solid, and would give no reason for maintenance. So that meant the butt-plate would never have been removed.

Curious, he asked quietly: "D'ya got a screwdriver? A flat-head?"

"Yeah, actually, I do," she replied, digging in her nearby saddlebags for the tool, which she passed to the stallion. Braeburn took it between his forehooves, pressing the tool's metal tip into the top screw. With a grunt, he started turning the ancient grooves. Once it was out, he panted from the pain in his shoulders. However, that didn't stop him from moving on to the second screw. He paused, briefly laughing inwardly at how ridiculous this entire ordeal was.

"Now Ah don't wanna sound conceited or nothin', but here comes a big Ah told ya'-"

But his jibe was ultimately short-lived as the screw came loose.

Instead of simply falling off, the steel plate flew away from the wooden stock, as if it had been shot out of a cannon. It disappeared into the darkness, a metallic clang echoing throughout the cavern. Braeburn and Daring jumped in fright, their eyes as wide as saucers. The stallion looked down to what caused the flight of the plate. He gaped as he spotted two solid bronze tubes jutting out of the wood, spaced a few inches apart. The earth pony's mind exploded with a torrent of conflicting thoughts. "No..."

Daring uttered a long gasp, ripping the weapon from his grasp and flying over to the towering, burgundy door. With a cry of triumph, she drove the end of the rifle into the indentation. To Braeburn's horror, it actually fit. "I told YOU Brae!"

"No. Absolutely not..." he spoke quietly.

The pegasus attempted to twist the weapon, but to no avail. "Do you think you can help me with this? I can't wait to shove this right in your face!"

Braeburn wordlessly complied, wearily standing to his hooves. He whispered dismissive words to himself as he slowly limped over to the door. Before he could place his hooves to the gun, Daring stopped him. "Okay, in all seriousness Braeburn, this is huge. If Thumper opens this door, then you are the descendent of what everypony thinks is a myth. If this works, then you wield the weapon that took the West from the law. If we open this door...then you are officially the coolest pony I know."

The stallion's forehooves shook as he gripped the rifle, momentarily ignoring her words. "This can't be true."

Braeburn opened Thumper's lever. "There's no way in Equestria."

He slowly applied downward pressure on the lever. "Ah can't be Cunning's descendant...It ain't possible..."

The earth pony clamped his eyes shut, and felt Thumper turn over with a click.

Ten - Both Sides of the Coin

"Boy howdy! That was some good eatin', huh girls?" Applejack exclaimed across the round kitchen table. She leaned back in her chair, patting her full stomach with a hoof. Across the table were two other mares, both slumped over its surface with half-opened eyes. Rainbow Dash rested her cheek to the table, exhausted from the full day of hard work in the summer heat. Twilight Sparkle did well to mind her manners, but ultimately couldn't hide her fatigue. In front of each mare was an empty plate and glass, only a few crumbs of sandwich bread left behind. Bullet Tyme allowed himself a small snicker from the kitchen counter, absentmindedly washing the dishes. It may have sounded cruel when taken out of context, but he was glad that his niece's friends were so exhausted. Hard work would only do them good.

"It certainly was," the violet unicorn murmured. "Thank you again Mister Apple."

"Yer welcome Twilight, but it's not 'Mister Apple.' Just call me Bullet," he replied, rinsing off a plate.

"Oh, well thank you Bullet," she said, giving the cyan pegasus next to her a sidelong poke to the shoulder. Rainbow Dash, however, was already fast asleep, slumped over the table. Twilight groaned with a roll of her eyes, evidently unable to summon the energy to wake her. "Of course."

"Don't worry 'bout her Twi'. Ya'll worked hard today," Applejack chuckled. "If ya' want, you two can stay the night and leave in the mornin'."

"Oh good," the unicorn sighed in relief. "I was not looking forward to a train ride home tonight. You don't mind, do you Bullet?"

"Not at all. Anypony that's a friend o' AJ's is a friend o' mine," replied the stallion, his back to them as he continued his work on the dishes.

Applejack assisted her uncle by collecting everypony's plates, giving the slumbering Rainbow Dash an unnoticed noogie along the way. She then deposited the dirty glassware into the sink in front of Bullet Tyme. Usually a full day's worth of hard work would bring a sense of pride to the orange earth pony, but nothing more than relief flooded her mind. The heat had certainly taken a toll not only on Twilight and Rainbow Dash, but her as well. Applejack thanked Celestia that the sun had finally started to set outside the window above the sink, casting a brilliant pink glow across the Appleloosan orchard. She allowed herself a moment to gaze at the beautiful vista, leaning her elbows on the counter top with her cheeks in her forehooves.

"Hey AJ?" came Twilight's voice, breaking the orange mare from her stupor. "Is your cousin here? I haven't seen him at all."

"Braeburn? He's actually out...deliverin' apples," Applejack replied sheepishly, searching for an excuse for his absence. The farmpony promised Daring Do that she wouldn't betray her existence, and she intended to do just that.

"Oh just tell her what that boy is doin'," Bullet Tyme hissed, a scowl on his face.

"Ya' don't know who that mare is Uncle B. S'not that easy."

"Some kinda con-artist or somethin'. S'all Ah need'ta know."

"Con-artist?" Twilight repeated from the background. Applejack groaned inwardly, her mind racing for any sort of viable explanation. She let out an audible sigh, knowingly beaten. There wasn't a way in Equestria she could pull a veil over the perceptive unicorn's eyes. "Oh! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to eavesdrop."

"Not a problem at all Twilight," Bullet replied, his voice gruff and full of disdain. "My son was fool enough to-"

"Uncle B!" Applejack interjected hotly, stomping a hoof to the floor in protest. Bullet Tyme responded by tossing a plate back into the sink, departing the kitchen without another word. The unicorn at the table looked between the doorway and the orange mare, her expression flabbergasted. Applejack attempted a reassuring grin, but realized just how feeble it really was.

"What's going on Applejack? Did something happen to Braeburn?" asked Twilight, her fatigue replaced by a genuine concern.

"S'not what my Uncle thinks Twi', really," Applejack replied hastily, waving a dismissive hoof. Twilight narrowed her eyes as she stood up and walked around the table. She stopped in front of the farmpony, tilting her head with a level expression. The unicorn lowered her eyelids, making sure that Applejack knew of her suspicion. The orange mare sighed, dropping her transparent guise and looking to the old, wooden floorboards between them. "Aww, ponyfeathers."

"Applejack, I don't mean to intrude on your family's business, but it sounds like your cousin's in trouble," Twilight said. "Forgive me if I'm prying, but...is he?"

"Twilight..." Applejack started, unaware of how to approach such a topic. She danced on her hooves, berating herself for what she was about to say. "...what Ah'm about to tell ya' can't be shared with anypony. Ah made a promise to the mare that Braeburn left with, and Ah shouldn't even be tellin' you. Can ya' do me a favor, and keep the next five minutes to yerself?"

"Of course Applejack," the violet unicorn replied. "But maybe you should tell me in the other room. You know, in case Rainbow Dash wakes up."

"Right, good thinkin'," she commented, casting a glance to the unconscious mare, her head and torso sprawled out over the table. The pegasus snored quietly, her cheek rested upon her foreleg. Judging by her track record, Applejack was certain that Rainbow Dash would be difficult to wake. With a nod, the farmer led Twilight out of the kitchen and into the living room. The unicorn kicked her hooves off the floor, making sure they weren't carrying any sort of dirt before settling herself on the enormous couch. Before Applejack could follow suit, something caught her eye by the door.

Upon the floor mat was the weekly newspaper, directly below the mail slot in the door. Normally something as mundane as a newspaper would never attract her attention, but having her cousin's well-being put into question, Applejack found the need to make sure. She stepped over to the door, picking up the rolled newspaper with her teeth before settling into the recliner across from Twilight, whom was waiting patiently. In fact, she sat up on her haunches and read the headline along with Applejack once the paper was spread out upon the coffee table. At the sight of the large, bold lettering, Applejack wished that she had read it before setting it in front of Twilight.

At the top of the front page was the headline: DODGE JUNCTION'S NEW HERO. Two jaws dropped at the sight of the photograph below, which showed a stallion with a long mane. He wore the signature cowpony hat that Applejack knew all too well, accompanied with a matching vest. The riflepony was crouching low behind a stone well, his weapon pointed off into the distance. Despite the poor quality of the photograph, the orange mare automatically knew it to be her cousin. Somehow she was able to make out the distinctive etching on the receiver of the rifle. There was no questioning it.

“Oh my gosh!” Twilight exclaimed, placing one hoof over her mouth and the other to the newspaper. “Applejack, is that Braeburn?!”

Applejack merely nodded, reading the rest of the article intently: In the past few months, the once peaceful town of Dodge Junction seems to have become a crossroads for bandits and criminals alike. The friendly townsfolk of the dusty settlement have become more and more reluctant to do so much as leave their homes because of this. But even in the darkest of nights, dawn is ultimately inevitable.

Yesterday at high-noon, the infamous bandit leader Sure Shot managed to escape imprisonment and evade recapture by Dodge Junction's Sheriff Goldstar McCain. In the middle of the pursuit, Goldstar, Deputy Conners and the bandit leader broke out into a dangerous gunfight. Almost reminiscent of the tales of Cunning the Colt, the shootout took place directly in front of town hall. According to eye-witnesses, it looked as if Sure Shot was only one bullet away from taking the sheriff's life when Dodge Junction was granted a new hero.

As if from nowhere, Braeburn Apple made his presence known with one amazing shot, successfully taking the bandit leader out of commission without killing him. Unsurprisingly, the esteemed riflepony is none other than the son of Dodge's finest shooter, Bullet Tyme. The two currently reside in the nearby town of Appleloosa, so it goes without saying that we are incredibly lucky for Braeburn's sudden appearance. Unfortunately, the stallion was unable to stay for questioning, but we at Western Weekly intend to get an interview at some point in the future.

Sure Shot is currently being held in a high-security vault in Dodge Junction's underground facilities, a mile outside of town. No need to worry citizens, he isn't going anywhere anytime soon. Even if he does, I feel confident that our new gun-slinging champion will take care of him with swift justice.

Applejack and Twilight gaped at the article for several minutes, rereading it a few times. The orange mare knew that her cousin was a born riflepony, but Braeburn was never one for confrontation. She had heard of the infamous bandit before, and the stories told nothing but his cruelty and innate rifle prowess.

"That's...amazing," Twilight gasped. "I didn't know Braeburn was a shooter."

"That dumb, cotton-pickin', hardheaded fool!" Applejack spat, a mild anger arising within her. "What in the hay is he doin' gettin' anywhere near that bandit?! Doesn't he know how dangerous that pony is?"

"Well AJ, I don't mean to be rude, but it looks like he kind of took care of it himself," Twilight said in a calming tone.

"Ah don't care what he did! He's my cousin, and he's out there makin' me more worried than a June bug in a thunderstorm! He could'a died Twilight! He could'a put Daring in danger, or even-"

"Wait, what did you just say?" the unicorn interrupted, stopping her with a raised hoof. Suddenly Applejack's irritation vanished, and she realized what had come out of her mouth. As she pondered how to answer Twilight's question, the orange mare managed to spot Daring's monochromatic tail in the corner of the front page photograph. While the article hadn't mentioned her accompanying Braeburn, Applejack was certain that other ponies would eventually pick up on her tail, if they already hadn't. The farmpony pointed at the corner of the picture, and her friend traced it with her eyes. Twilight's eyebrows shot to the ceiling, her lips parting in shock. "H-Hold on...You didn't mean Daring Do...did you?"

With a final sigh, Applejack retold the events of Braeburn's discovery of his new talent, and then of Daring Do's arrival. The entire time she spoke, the lavender mare couldn't seem to shake her look of absolute shock. Her eyes were as wide as saucers, looking as if she hadn't been exhausted from a long day's work. When Applejack finished, she waited patiently for her friend to take in the information.

"So...you're telling me that Daring Do is a real pony?" she asked quietly.

"Not only Daring, but Ah guess Cunning the Colt was too," said the farmer. "But Ah told Daring that Ah wouldn't tell nopony 'bout her, so don't tell nopony, especially Rainbow Dash."

"Wow, that's a real shame," Twilight commented, putting a hoof to her chin. "Rainbow would love to know about her."

"As much as Ah would love to see RD flip a biscuit over meetin' her, Daring said she didn't want to make herself known," Applejack chuckled, picturing the scenario.

"Do you think she'd let me meet her?" Twilight asked, suddenly beaming with excitement. "Even if the books weren't accurate as you said, I would still love to hear about her findings first-hoof!"

"Well Ah don't know 'bout that," Applejack said. "Ah don't know when they're gettin' back, but Ah just hope they're okay."

The sound of whirring gears echoed throughout the cavern, clicking and clunking at high speeds. The two ponies watched in awe as the towering door split down the middle with a resounding crash of stone, save for the curve of the ovular lock. A plume of dust erupted from every corner of the frame, wafting a musty scent into their noses. The door swung inward a few inches, giving them a view of nothing but darkness beyond. However, it wasn't the passage opening that was causing Braeburn's horror; it was what opened it in the first place.

Thumper protruded from the lock, its barrel pointing towards him. Braeburn could only stare at it, his eyes darting around the weapon. It was as if he was looking upon the rifle for the first time, for now he saw it in a whole new light. The earth pony fell to his haunches as Daring yanked Thumper loose from the door. The pegasus held it in her forehooves, gaping in awe. Neither of them could believe it. Not only was Cunning the Colt a real pony, but the same Marechester he wielded was in their very presence.

"This is amazing!" came Daring's voice, high-pitched and excited. "To think what this gun has seen, whom it was fired at...Brae?"

Braeburn turned his eyes upward from the floor, gathering his composure. He found Daring landing in front of him with a flap of her wings, Thumper in her forehooves. She tilted her head at him, confusion in her eyes. "Brae? What's wrong? You should be happy! You have the coolest lineage I have ever seen!"

"Ah don't think it's so cool," he whispered, taking the Marechester back into his own hooves. Suddenly Thumper wasn't an item he felt comfortable holding anymore. The stigma that surrounded the rifle was now something he didn't want any part of. It didn't feel like the family heirloom he once knew, but a tool used for nothing but evil. Daring was all too correct: it was the gun that took the West from the law, something that Braeburn had always followed. The stallion knew who he was, but having such an infamous criminal for an ancestor made him feel tainted, as if his soul was somehow worth less than before.

"It's because he was a criminal, right?" she asked, uttering a chuckle. "Come on Brae, you and I both know that Cunning has nothing to do with who you are. He was a bandit, but you are a freaking hero."

"What?" he asked quietly, the last word catching his attention.

"A hero," she repeated, her tone serious, but not without a small smile. "Here's the difference between you and the Colt of the West: You were the one who saved the sheriff from being killed. Cunning would have been the one shooting at him. Get it? Just because you share the same blood doesn't mean you're the same pony. Now get up, and let's see what he left behind."

Daring Do stood back up, returning Thumper to its scabbard on his back for him after replacing the metal butt-plate to the rear stock, which took several minutes. She then offered a helping hoof, which Braeburn accepted. With a grunt of effort, the earth pony returned to his hooves, wincing at the throbbing pain in his back. The mare leaned against him, supporting his weight. At this, the stallion's pride completely disappeared, but something distracted his mind from dwelling on such oppressive thoughts.

"One hoof at a time Brae, I'll get you outta here."

Something about her tone was different. She had a certain warmth despite the cold water that dripped from their coats. Without hearing the story of her previous life, Braeburn may not have noticed it before. After the harrowing tale of Daring's life-long sorrow had been told, the earth pony felt far closer to her than he ever would have imagined. It was like he had known her for years, regardless of the fact that they were acquainted only days ago. Braeburn felt a sudden pang of affection grow within his battered chest, grateful to have such a kindhearted pony for a friend.

The stallion stopped once they were in front of the door, forcing Daring to follow suit. "Hold on a second."

"What's up Brae?" she asked, without her usual hurried tone. Daring gave him some room, although still holding him up with a hoof to his shoulder. Braeburn had what he needed to say on the tip of his tongue, but somehow couldn't put it into words. Or rather, he couldn't push them past his lips. Instead, he snorted out a breath through his nose, looking to the stone floor in contemplation. She didn't say a word, but merely waited with uncharacteristic patience. With every passing second, he found the possibility of voicing his thoughts fading away. It simply wasn't the time or place, nor was it actually important...objectively anyway.

"N-Nevermind. It's nothin'."

"What? Are you sure? Is it your back or something?"

"No, it's fine. Let's just get to it," he dismissed, walking away from Daring's touch. Disregarding every scream of agony that his nerves were crying out, Braeburn drove his shoulder to the enormous door. He ignored the mare's words of concern, and pushed the left door just far enough for them to pass through. The weight of the towering steel didn't seem to be held by any sort of hinges that eased the workload. Instead, it felt as if he were pushing the entirety of the weight through a thick quagmire. Once the opening was large enough to walk through, the workhorse felt his right foreleg buckle from exhaustion. He shook off Daring, whom had tried to help him once again.

"We need light," he panted, bypassing whatever Daring was about to say. "Ah can't imagine that ya' wanna carry that flaming stone over there, so we'll need our lanterns. Are they still wet?"

The pegasus removed the lantern from her bags, flicking the ignition switch with a click. To their surprise, the wick in the glass casing burst forth into a bright, yellow flame. Suddenly the entire alcove around them was illuminated, although barely. The fire light brightened the tunnel through the steel doors, revealing its pristine detail. The pathway was carved directly through solid stone and earth, with the same dimensions as the door frame. Every corner was neat and perfectly angled, the walls flat and parallel. Braeburn wasn't able to calculate just how far the tunnel ventured forth, for the light faded into the darkness just ten yards away.

"What d'ya think is down there?" Braeburn asked, his mind racing with theories.

"I...I dunno," she answered, leaning up against his shoulder again, supporting his weight. "This case is like nothing I've ever seen before. Usually I know what to expect around every corner of an expedition, but Cunning has made quick work of fooling me so far. We could be walking into anything Braeburn, so precaution is something we have to take seriously. If Cunning was able to build that trapdoor above us, then who knows what's ahead."

"Well we ain't gonna find out by just standin' here," said the stallion, ready to move ahead.

Daring stopped his movement by pressing her shoulder into his own. "Brae, hold on, this is important! You aren't in the best of conditions right now, and I need you to be overly-cautious, okay?"

Braeburn bit his lip in aggravation. She was right as always; there could be more traps ahead, and he wasn't ready to dodge a falling guillotine or anything of the sort. He loathed his current situation; being restricted by the agonizing pain that flooded his entire body. Braeburn couldn't afford to reject her advice, for it was the only way they would make it out alive. Without another word, Braeburn nodded and they drove onward, wary of every inch of the tunnel. They walked at a slow pace, their eyes traversing the walls, the floor and the ceiling. But after a few minutes, it seemed as though the pathway was safe.

"What will you do after this Braeburn?"

The stallion's head perked up in surprise, having not realized just how much time had passed. He cast a curious glance over his shoulder to find the light of the alcove they arrived in to be nothing more than a pinprick. Just how long was this tunnel? After he regained his thoughts, Braeburn contemplated her query. It seemed like an odd question at first, but once he analyzed her tone, her reasoning became more and more clear.

"Ya' mean after ya' pay me?" he chuckled. "Well, fixin' the farm is a must, so that's priority number one. Ah certainly can't let my Pa down after all this. Can't imagine he's feelin' too keen with me leavin' and all."

"I would have thought that rest and healing would be at the top of the list," she commented.

"One would think," he smiled. "Tell ya' what, a little R and R will be priority number two, and only 'cause ya' won't stop buggin' me 'bout it."

"Oh, I'm flattered," Daring droned sarcastically. "But really, what's life going to be like for you after this? I mean, I know you have your work on the farm, but what about this shooting thing? Are you going to do anything with that?"

Braeburn chewed on that idea for a moment. The thought hadn't seemed to cross his mind before then. The first thing that he recalled was his father's elation when he discovered his innate rifle prowess. As much as Braeburn loved his work on the farm, hearing Bullet Tyme's words of pride for his only son was far beyond comparison. He wondered what his life would have been like if he listened to his father as a colt and began shooting at an early age. Perhaps his flanks wouldn't be adorned with a single apple, but a crosshair or a bullet instead. Was farming truly his special talent anymore? Perhaps it didn't matter. A pony can be adept at more than one thing, so maybe his cutie mark only represented his most prominent talent as a colt.

"Ah might," he finally answered. "Ah guess Ah just live one step at a time. Never found the need to plan too many things out."

"Chuh. I actually envy that," Daring replied with a sense of longing. "Simplicity is something I can't seem to grasp."

"Oh, and why not? Ah thought ya' liked yer work."

"Yeah but sometimes it's...Braeburn watch out!"

The sudden shift in her sentence made Braeburn instinctively freeze on the spot, unable to see the plethora of holes in the floor and the walls. Before he could so much as blink, Daring shoved him forward and out of harm's way with all of her might. The stallion heard her utter a cry of pain as he slid across the smooth stone floor on his stomach. At the sound of her exasperated voice, Braeburn rolled to his hooves, grunting in effort. Gleaming in the fire light behind them was a veritable thicket of iron spikes, erupting from the floor and walls. Their points looked as if they could pierce solid steel with ease, one of which bearing a thin line of crimson. Between him and the booby-trap was Daring, wincing in a heap on the ground. The pegasus laid on her left side, holding her right foreleg close to her chest. Braeburn rushed over to her, worry etched into his face.

He gestured to her leg with a hoof, wordlessly asking to see the wound. She complied, revealing a deep gash that ran a few inches above her hoof. Braeburn couldn't help but recoil at the sight. "Oh no. Okay, gimme yer bags, Ah'll take care of it."

"I got it Brae, it's not that bad," she hissed between her teeth, rising to her haunches. However, her words didn't stop Braeburn from sliding her fallen saddlebags in front of himself, digging through its contents. He withdrew the white first aid kit, finding a roll of gauze and a bottle of peroxide. The stallion took her foreleg in his hooves, cleaning the wound with practiced ease. Injuries were plentiful in the life of a workhorse, even deep cuts such as this.

"Ya' helped me with my cuts back in town. S'only right that Ah returned the favor."

He quelled her retort with a painful splash of the disinfectant, rinsing the specks of metal from the wound. She remained quiet, staring at him with distant eyes. "See what I mean? We need to be overly-cautious."

"Yeah, yeah. Ah get it," he chuckled. Braeburn wrapped the gauze around her leg, patting down the adhesive that bound it together. "But thanks Daring, fer savin' me."

"Look at it this way, I only have to save your life one more time until we're even," she grinned. "Did your back instantly heal or something? You're moving freely again."

Braeburn furrowed his brow, rolling his shoulders and twisting his back a few times. To his astonishment, the stallion felt a dramatic decrease in the pain. It was still there, but not enough to restrict his movements or slow him down anymore.

"Well would ya' look at that!" he exclaimed, overjoyed. "Ya' must've pulled the muscle back in place or somethin'!"

"Well good. Now can I have my leg back?" Daring asked. Braeburn turned his head back around, finding that he was still holding onto her hoof with both of his own. He quickly retracted his hooves, fighting the rush of blood that arose to his face.

"Oh, sorry 'bout that," he chuckled, still overjoyed about his healed back. He stood up and stretched, elated that he was able to do so without being crippled by pain. Once he was satisfied, Braeburn helped Daring to her hooves, who wore an odd look as she sniffed the air.

"Brae, do you smell that?" she asked.

The stallion tried to catch whatever she was inquiring about, but found nothing out of the ordinary. "Naw."

"Really? It's pretty strong," she said, starting a slow pace down the tunnel. "It smells like...lantern oil."

"Ya' mean like the stuff fuelin' yer light source?" asked Braeburn sarcastically, trotting up next to her.

Daring rolled her eyes. "No, genius. Burning oil has a completely different scent. Standing fuel is what I'm smelling. Maybe you still have dirt up your nose from that fight at Final Chance."

Braeburn cringed at the memory. "Maybe-"

Before he could finish his reply, the two stopped as the fire light illuminated a larger area around them, indicating that the tunnel was opening into something much more vast. At the edge of the lantern's light was a descending slope, leveling out a few feet down the stone path. Daring led the way at a careful pace, her gaze traversing the walls around them. She stopped once the tunnel opened up, revealing a brick railing along each side of the slope. Atop each chest-high wall was a long pool of black liquid, extending far beyond the flickering fire light. Daring grinned brightly as she approached the source of the scent, running a quick hoof across the surface of the small pool.

The mare detached the lantern from her saddlebags, opening the small glass door before exposing the flame to the ancient fuel. With a burst of yellow light, a flame erupted atop the left brick railing. The fire trailed down the line, illuminating the room in front of them. As the oil ignited, a vast alcove appeared in front of them. The ceiling was at least seventy feet high, carved just as meticulously as the rest of the underground pathway. The fire trailed down and around, returning to them on the right. Braeburn and Daring Do gasped in surprise once the entire room was perfectly illuminated, as if the sun had shown through the ceiling.

In the middle of the vast circle of flames was a tall, platformed structure of dark granite. It consisted of four thick slabs, shrinking in size as it rose to form a triadic pyramid. Facing them was a wide staircase, ascending the front side of the underground tower, leading to a columned platform at the top. The sides of each slab were carved in an ornate scrolling pattern. The sight was extraordinary, but Daring Do seemed to become more and more excited by the second.

"Oh...my...gosh..." she whispered, her voice quivering with elation. "But...this looks like a Mesoequestrian temple. Why would Cunning have built this? What is its purpose?"

"Ah don't know, but ya' ain't gonna find out by askin' me," he replied, his gaze darting around the structure in front of them. Daring Do chuckled in agreement. The archaeologist then dove her muzzle into her bags, retrieving a thick scroll of cloth. She untied the brown string with her teeth, and unraveled it to reveal its contents. The beige linen bore a number of pockets and loops, all securing differing kinds of tools. Daring withdrew a large magnifying glass and a pickaxe. Both had a loop attached to it, meant for securing the tools to a hoof.

The bright-eyed mare looked up to him, a wide grin spread across her face. "Like I said, it's my time to shine."

Eleven - Raider of Tombs

With a flap of her nimble wings, Daring Do bolted through the air in the blink of an eye. She left her tools behind, save for a magnifying glass and a small feather-duster. Braeburn slowly descended the slope of the pathway, his wide eyes transfixed on the monolithic structure before him. The only sounds that occupied the enormous cavern were the crackling of flames and the excited gasps of the pegasus ahead. The beige stallion could only gape at the sight, wondering how in Equestria one simple earth pony could build all of this. From what he could see, the mare was going to do everything she could to answer every question a pony could ask.

From the bottom of the wide staircase, Daring ran around the lowermost platform of the triadic pyramid, stopping every few feet to take hurried notes with a quill and a barely-dry piece of parchment. Braeburn didn't even try to talk to the mare, for it seemed as if she were in her own little world. In all honesty, he couldn't blame her. While the earth pony knew next to nothing about ancient artifacts, he could at least extrapolate the immense weight that such a find could have. Not only was this a tomb of sorts crafted by none other than Cunning the Colt, it was obviously the archaeological find of the century. Braeburn suddenly felt incredibly small and insignificant in front of the tower, for its mere size alone was nothing short of intimidating.

"Can you believe this?!" Daring exclaimed, squealing like a filly in a toy store. "Cunning the Colt, what did you do?"

"Looks like he made a really big...thingy," Braeburn replied, his sarcasm fading back into awe. He trotted up the staircase to meet the pegasus, who was busying herself by dusting the ornate scrollwork carvings from the edges of the second platform. "What're ya' doin' there?"

"Getting every inch of these carvings visible," she replied, her grin brightening with every word. "There are so many questions to be asked, and I'll bet that I can get all the answers. The most prominent being; why would he construct a replica of a typical Mesoequestrian temple? Pyramids like these were made a thousand years before Cunning's time, and in a completely different part of the world. So what's the significance? Is it a clue?"

"A clue to what?" Braeburn asked, his curious gaze fixed on Daring's work.

"There has to be a reason why Cunning built this," she answered, recreating the intricate scrollwork in her notes for future reference. "It must have taken years to do so, so what is its purpose?"

"Maybe the answer..." Braeburn pointed to the top of the pyramid. "...is at the top o' this ornery thing?"

"Or, you know, the treasure?" Daring suggested with a sarcastic cock of an eyebrow.

Braeburn tilted his head. "Well if ya' thought that then why are ya' still down here?"

"Gotta leave the best for last Brae," she grinned, returning to her notes. "I need to sketch these out for reference. Work first, pay later. But you can go up if you want. Scout the area, but be careful. Keep your eyes peeled for anything."

Braeburn shot her a mock salute before trotted up the granite staircase. Every step was a few inches too steep, causing him to ascend rather slowly and carefully. He had to force his excitement aside, for he almost lost his life by being ignorant of his surroundings before. With each yard of ascension, Braeburn noticed that nothing seemed out of the ordinary, save for the monolith he was climbing hundreds of feet underground made by a pony others thought to be fictitious. The stallion realized just how easily he was starting to take in such anomalies nowadays. Perhaps he was simply becoming used to the strange and the farfetched. At this point, why shouldn't he have?

Thumper rocked back in forth in its scabbard as Braeburn rose to the uppermost platform, his head now level with the foundations of the pillars that lined the top of the tower. To his surprise, every inch of the dark granite seemed to be perfectly intact, despite its age. The natural preservation of the tomb was remarkable. Nopony must have stepped hoof in the caverns since they were built, which made sense.

The stallion's eyes traversed his surroundings once he arrived at the top of the pyramid. The uppermost platform was square, as were the lower slabs. Four tall granite columns stood resolute from each corner, adorned with the same scrollwork that Daring was studying below. Braeburn noticed something familiar about the uniformed artwork. He reached a hoof over his shoulder, catching Thumper by its lever and extracting the weapon from its scabbard. He grinned at his own memory, seeing that the rifle's receiver bore the same exact patterns around the etched apple next to the cartridge gate.

Replacing Thumper to his back, Braeburn turned his gaze to the middle of the platform. A cylindrical dais protruded from the stone, with something inlaid into its surface. He cast a weary glance around, searching for any sort of trap or hazard. Once he was satisfied that the coast was clear, Braeburn slowly approached the dais. Atop the round protrusion was a system of rusted gears under two thin levers, one pointing toward him, and the other pointing to the far left corner of the room. He prodded a curious hoof to the clock-like gear system, finding that every part was completely seized. It was to be expected, but he thought that Cunning would have realized that metal would rust in a moist underground cavern. So far the Colt of the West had proved to be quite the intelligent stallion, so perhaps he was intending for an earlier descendant to discover his tomb. Regardless, this was something that Daring needed to see.

"You alright up there?" came her voice.

"Yeah, Ah think ya' might wanna come up here and take a gander at this," he called back. "S'not any kind o' treasure, but it's...somthin'!"

"That's not very descriptive."

"Will ya' just get on up here?"

"Fine, fine. My assistant needs me I guess."

Braeburn rolled his eyes as he waited for her to climb the enormous staircase, the sound of hoofsteps growing steadily closer. Once Daring reached the uppermost platform, her expression mirrored Braeburn's initial look of awe as her eyes traversed the columns surrounding them.

"This is getting weirder and weirder," she said quietly, more to herself than anypony else. "First the Mesoequestrian influences and now this? Was Cunning some sort of world traveler or historian or something?"

"Maybe, but that's not what Ah wanted to show ya'," said Braeburn, gesturing to the dais. She traced his gaze, approaching the cylindrical protrusion. She then looked around the entirety of the cavern, furrowing her brow all the while.

"There doesn't seem to be another door or another room that leads out of here," she observed. "And the main entrance is blocked, so it's safe to say that Cunning would have made another way to the surface. Maybe this thing opens a path or a door out of here."

"But not before findin' the treasure."

"Right," Daring agreed, dusting off the clock-like system. "I don't think we'll make any headway until we find out what the answer to this little puzzle is."

"Didn't ya' wanna take more notes on this here tower first?"

"I'm quicker at this than you think, my humble assistant," she mused, her eyes still fixed on the dais. "It's almost like I've done this before."

Braeburn could only smirk at her constant sarcasm. He found it almost humorous that Daring became suddenly more cocky when immersed in her element. Just as the rest of her colorful personality, he only found it endearing.

After they were free of dust and cobwebs, Daring attempted to turn the iron hands on the clock, although to no avail. Braeburn felt a pang of worry jolt through his mind. There were no visible means of exit from the tomb, save for the possibility of the alleged puzzle opening one. So if the entire mechanism was as seized as the levers that operated it, how could they return to the surface? Something sparked in his mind as that thought ran through his brain. Whenever a rifle's action stiffened, a little grease and oil was almost always the answer. How was this any different? Moving metal parts were the same no matter what the design was.

Recalling his visit to Gunmetal Grey's shop, Braeburn rummaged through his bags to find the small glass bottle of gun oil that the gunsmith had given him, more for routine maintenance than anything else. "Try this."

Daring looked to him, then to the vial in his hooves. "That might work."

The mare took the glass of translucent oil, uncorking it with her teeth and immediately pouring the entirety of its contents atop the dais. Braeburn frowned as he watched the thick liquid trickle down between the teeth of each gear, as well as the single pin that held both levers in place.

"Or you can use all of it," he sighed mockingly. "Ain't like that stuff's expensive or nothin'."

"Do you wanna get out of here alive or not?" she chided, waiting impatiently for the oil to settle between the thin cluster of gears and spindles. It was certainly a large amount for such a small area by comparison, so if this didn't work, Braeburn was out of ideas. Once her patience was spent, Daring grabbed a hold of the longer lever with both hooves, applying all the pressure she could muster. To their surprise, it creaked loose and turned clockwise at her push.

"Yes!" she exclaimed, giving the stallion a playful shove. "Good on ya' Brae, now we just gotta figure out what...well, time to set it to."

"Assuming it's a clock, o' course."

"You and your negativity," Daring snorted. "What else could it be? Just look at the darned thing! Anyway, think. Is there any time of day that would have any relevance to Cunning, or even this place?"

With that thought, Braeburn put a hoof to his chin in contemplation. The puzzle seemed to be set to a random time, as to not give any sort of idea of the correct answer. So far, Cunning had made every puzzle possible to answer with a previous notion or clue, so this would obviously be no different. However, Braeburn was no scholar. Things like this were simply not his specialty. His talents were more in the realm of farming and apparently, shooting. As he felt confident that he was at a loss for ideas, Braeburn cast a glance to Daring.

The archaeologist seemed to be toying with a plethora of theories as she circled the dais, squinting at the clock from every possible angle. Braeburn attempted to wear a similar contemplative expression, but didn't know what it ended up looking like. He felt increasingly dimwitted as the clueless seconds crawled by, ashamed at his own lack of ideas. Thankfully, the pegasus broke the silence with her voiced thoughts:

"Okay, let's go over what we know. There were three clues that Cunning left for us to find, but none of them said a word regarding a time of day. Perhaps there was something in the tales...no, that wouldn't make sense. The stories were made by ponies years after Cunning's disappearance, not by the stallion himself. But...there were some facts that always seemed consistent enough in the lore...such as the chase between him and the sheriff! I've heard the tale of the Colt of the West a thousand times, but one part always remained consistent; when he and the law broke out into a gunfight in front of the town hall! The shoot-out took place..."

Daring stopped mid-sentence, turning the minute lever ahead, away from Braeburn. She then did the same with the shorter hour lever. "...at high-noon!"

She threw her forehooves into the air in triumph, standing on her hindlegs. But after a few seconds of silence, Daring fell to all fours, her expression cross. "Huh...maybe not."

Braeburn frowned at the clock. If anything was going to work, it was that one idea. Judging by Daring's intricate theory, he was certain that she was correct. There had to be something else they had to do, for there was nothing else that the tales, nor Cunning's clues had implied in terms of time. He bent his still-aching neck down to the clock, inspecting every centimeter of its inner-workings. The cluster of gears beneath the levers shrouded most of the system, almost blocking out something that made Braeburn's eyes widen. He didn't know how neither of them noticed it before, but underneath the levers, the pin that held them bore some sort of hinge, presumably allowing vertical movement.

"Daring, what was the point of this type o' temple?" he asked.

"Well, in ancient times, these towers were used as observatories, because it was the closest ponies could get to the sky to see the stars. Why do you ask?"

Braeburn grinned in response. He dove his muzzle into his bags again, this time retrieving the lasso that he used during the brawl at Final Chance. With hooves twitching in excitement, he wedged the loop of the rope underneath the parallel levers.

"Hold on, what are you doing?" she asked, as if he were about to break their only way out, which was entirely possible.

"Ah think Ah found the reason fer this here tower," he replied through the rope in his teeth. Before Daring could respond, the workhorse yanked the lasso backward, being rewarded with a click before the slack loosened. His idea was correct. High-noon, when the sun reached its peak in the sky. Any book-smart pony like Daring Do would realize the purpose for the Mesoequestrian temple, once they were given all the pieces of the puzzle.

As one, both levers pointed directly toward the ceiling. Once they reached their new position, the gears underneath whirred to life. With a resounding bang, the tower beneath them shuddered, as if it were struck with a wrecking ball. The muffled sound of much larger cogs spinning filled the cavern, echoing across the high ceiling. The floor underhoof shook, and Braeburn felt the platform descend at a crawl.

"Gah!" Daring cried in shock over the sound of grinding stone. "What did you do Brae?!"

"Hopefully somethin' good," he replied, suddenly regretting his decision.

The two turned their heads to find the top of the staircase rising above them, signaling that the tower itself was moving. Braeburn peaked over the edge to see that the platform they stood upon was slowly sinking into the slab below, revealing that it must have been hollow. The structure shook once the two platforms leveled out, before sinking again. In the span of a minute, the triadic pyramid virtually fell in on itself, inverting the entire tower even further underground. The firelight above did nothing to illuminate the stone pit that they now stood in, forcing the mare to relight her lantern. Before either of them could say a word, the interior of the platform in front of them crumbled, kicking up a small cloud of dust. Only a small section of the granite fell, revealing a narrow stone passageway, just large enough for a pony to pass through.

Braeburn's jaw hung slightly, his eyes wide in awe. "Sweet Celestia from above..."

"Braeburn, you continue to surprise me," Daring smiled.

"Ah wasn't sure that'd actually work," he gaped, his eyes falling upon the dais between them. "Ah was just tryin' to be helpful."

"I think you're smarter than you give yourself credit for," Daring replied, stepping in front of him with her usual grin.

"Yer the one that figured most of it out," he said meekly, only to receive a hoof over his mouth.

"Will you just shut up and take the darned compliment?"

With that, Daring retracted her hoof and took the lead ahead, lowering her head to squeeze through the entrance of the new pathway. Braeburn couldn't help but feel heat rise to his face once again, feeling his pride swell with her words. Perhaps she was right; perhaps he was more than just a simple workhorse. Maybe Braeburn wasn't as dimwitted or daft as he saw himself. In life, ponies would occasionally remark positively upon his work, tenacity and now his rifle prowess. While he appreciated their compliments, their words held no weight in comparison to Daring Do's. Braeburn never had the room in his life for a friend before, and he never imagined that she would be the one to fill the gap in his being.

"You coming or what?" her voice called from the tunnel. "I'm starting to notice just how much I've been waiting on you during this expedition!"

"It's been worth it though!" he smirked, bowing his head under the low ceiling and following her lantern's light. "Besides, ya' wouldn't have been able to get this far without me bein' here."

"Don't you get cute with me, Brae-Brae. I wouldn't have gotten this far without Thumper," she corrected with a cocky smile. "But, you have been a big help I guess."

"Darn-tootin'."

"Do you want a gold star or something?"

"It'd be nice," Braeburn chuckled, to which Daring had joined in. After the events of the past few days, this was exactly what Braeburn needed: laughter. Somehow the light-hearted back-and -forth was enough to ease his mind and loosen his stiff muscles, allowing him a rare bout of relaxation. He sighed after a long chuckle, and the pegasus did the same.

He wasn't particularly bothered by the confined dimensions of the narrow tunnel. It was more of the smell that was wafting through his nose; the stench of something old and moist. Braeburn guessed that it was simply the natural aroma of the ancient caverns, considering the walls themselves happened to be dripping with the occasional trickle of water. He could only estimate that they were a few hundred feet underground. The stallion pulled his duster closer to his chest, finally starting to feel the chill.

The tunnel they trekked through seemed endless, far longer than the previous one. They walked in silence, their hoofsteps being the only sound to echo down the stone passage. Daring led the way, unable to walk side-by-side with the earth pony due to the constricting walls. She paced with extreme care, evidently unwilling to be scarred by another trap. Braeburn dreaded seeing her get hurt again, especially because of his own carelessness. Guilt flooded his mind as he noticed the mare in front of him limping on her injured leg, knowing far too well how much pain such a deep cut could entice. He curiously checked the many bandages upon his own face and chest, making sure that they weren't bleeding through again. To his relief, they remained dry, and still held despite being completely submerged in water before.

After several silent minutes, Braeburn's thoughts became free to wander. He moved subconsciously, mulling over the bombshell of Daring's tainted fillyhood. It was easy to compare this endeavor to the tomb of the Sapphire Statue, and not the tale meant for foals. What the stallion recalled was the real version; the harrowing story that brought a cold chill to his spine. The part that bothered the stallion the most was Dusty Trails' untimely demise. Braeburn couldn't fathom just how traumatizing it must have been, being forced to watch a significant other be so brutally killed in the middle of nowhere. Did Daring feel the same way? Did she compare this to that terrible event as well? Perhaps that was why the mare was so bent on letting him heal before they found Cunning's tomb. He couldn't blame her now that he thought about it. Who would want to relive such a thing? Granted, they were strictly friends, but Braeburn knew that the difference was minimal in the long run.

"Hey there, why the long face?" Daring asked out of the blue. Her expression was of sarcasm, but not without a hint of true concern.

"Oh, nothin'. Just gettin'...hungry, Ah guess," he answered with a nervous laugh. He expected her to at least pick up on his dismissal, but perhaps the poor lighting didn't properly illuminate his expression.

"Tell me about it," she groaned, her eyelids lowering in subtle fatigue. "I'm kicking myself for forgetting to pack something to eat. Oh! There's the end of the tunnel!"

Braeburn was distracted from his thoughts by her sudden exclamation, looking down the passage to find another vast expanse of darkness. To the right was another pooled trail of oil upon a railing, this one not leading down a slope, but off into the unknown. Daring immediately ignited it with her lantern, standing back as a tongue of flame lashed out and down the line. Judging by the last tunnel, they expected to find another vast cavern to be illuminated in front of them. Instead, a tall hallway came into view, flames erupting from alcoves carved into the bedrock, ascending to the ceiling. The floor was made of sandstone tiles, chipped and eroded with age. The last thing Braeburn noticed was the door-less threshold at the other end of the long hallway. Their destination was clear, but he knew that getting there wasn't going to be as easy as it seemed. Unsurprisingly enough, it didn't take more than a second for his dread to be confirmed.

As soon as the flames lit the long niche in the wall, chaos erupted in the hall. From five previously unnoticed slits in the stone swung enormous, scimitar-like blades, hung from thick lengths of rope tied to the ceiling. The horizontal guillotines swung in interchanging intervals, keeping a pony from making a straight run through. The blades occupied the far side of the hall, leaving their side seemingly untouched by such hazards. Braeburn immediately shot a sidelong glance to Daring, who he expected to wear a look of pure horror. However, her rose eyes seemed to erupt with their signature flame, an insane grin spread across her face. Her expression was of a mad-mare, as if she had just been released from the local asylum. The look almost made the stallion recoil in fright, especially when she turned her eyes to his.

"I hope you're ready for this Braeburn," she said, the rasp in her voice emphasized.

"Daring, are you alright?" he asked, momentarily concerned for her mental stability.

The mare looked away from him, her eyes transfixed on the swinging blades down the hall. "Braeburn, do you know how long I've been waiting for something like this to come along? To be able to atone for my mistake?"

Braeburn cocked an eyebrow, a cold chill of fear creeping through his veins. "Hold on, just what're ya' talkin' about? Yer startin' to scare me."

"Good," she snickered. "Then turn that fear into energy, 'cause you're gonna need it. Now..."

Daring pointed to the expanse of floor in front of them, beginning a slew of quick-spoken instructions. "We don't have a lot of time, so listen carefully. We have about twenty feet of safe passage, right? Wrong. Notice how the floor is suddenly made of tiles and not of just plain stone. Unless Cunning had a mind for making a pony's death a little more homely, I think it's nothing more than a trap. Exhibit A..." she pointed to a closer portion of wall to the left, forcing him to notice the pinholes in the stone. "...Classic booby-trap: the wall of poisoned projectiles. I can guarantee that ninety-percent of these tiles will trigger its firing mechanism. In fact, look at the floor."

Braeburn traced her hoof once again, his eyes traversing the seemingly uniform tiles. "Exhibit B, I was right! Only a keen eye like mine would see something like this. Look, there's a trail of tiles that are set just a little bit further down into the stone than the majority, heading all the way down the hall."

"Whoa! Slow down there! What's the rush?" Braeburn exclaimed.

"Look at the ceiling Brae," she noted, jerking her head upward. He obliged, his eyes widening at the sight of the black cloud of smoke filling the hall. The smog grew by the second, and would inevitably engulf the entire cavern. What was worse, Daring indicated a slab of stone slowly closing the door ahead. If they didn't move fast, they would suffocate in a matter of minutes...and nopony would ever find them.

"This oil is different, it produces smog," she said hurriedly, immediately withdrawing her corked inkwell from her bags and dropping it to the floor. With a grunt, the mare stomped a hoof through the glass, covering it with black ink. "We need to move fast, the door is closing and we can't make one wrong move. I can't fly through, and I need to mark where you have to step. Only leap to the tiles with my ink-print, and only when I say so."

With every word she spoke, Braeburn's apprehension grew into a crippling fear. He felt his legs quiver, shoulders following suit. The stallion's eyes shifted from Daring to the closing door forty feet away, searching for anything to quell his terror. The pegasus looked him over as quick as she could, evidently seeing his fear. "Turn it into adrenaline Brae, or we will die. Now follow my lead!"

Daring Do kept her wings to her sides, leaping to a shallow tile of sandstone a yard away. As planned, her hoof-print was stamped into the sandstone as she continued down the safe path, slowly but surely approaching the enormous blades ahead. Braeburn took in a long breath, gathering his minimal amount of courage. As if a rabid dog were on his tail, the stallion carefully jumped to the first ink mark, almost falling forward and onto one of the many triggers. He quickly regained his stance, leaping to every stamped tile. Just a skip away, Daring stopped, all four of her hooves confined to one small square of beige stone. She stood frozen, only her head moving slightly. It was evident that the mare was contemplating their next move, but Braeburn spotted the door ahead halfway closed.

"Daring!" he yelled from behind, coughing on a mouthful of black smoke. "Make a move! NOW!"

With an unintelligible cry, Daring Do leaped past the first blade, just barely avoiding the giant silver edge. Less than a yard separated each swinging guillotine, forcing the pegasus to confine her body as slim as possible on the safe tile. For the moment, Braeburn was a sitting duck. The smoke was getting thicker, and was starting to distort his vision. The smell was foul, forcing him to choke on the putrid air. At Daring's call, he snapped his head upward to find her already in between the second and third blade, signalling for him to jump. He wasted no time in complying, unwilling to look at the blade hurtling towards him from the right. In hindsight, he figured that this was a mistake.

Midway through the jump, Braeburn felt a cold, stinging pain erupt from his back. He cried out in agony before landing haphazardly upon the ink-printed tile. Daring shrieked his name in terror as the stallion wavered on his hooves, feeling a hot trickle of blood flow down his sides underneath the torn duster. The pain was crippling, the flowing wound causing his vision to blur.

"Braeburn!" she shrieked before a small coughing fit. "Are you okay?"

"Keep...movin'..." he grunted, the fur on his back soaked with blood, crying out in agony.

The mare looked as if she were on the verge of tears, her eyes wide and fearful for his well-being. Nonetheless, the pegasus turned around and found her moment, bypassing the third blade and landing safely on the other side. Braeburn did everything he could to focus his dreary eyes, gritting his teeth in effort. He couldn't die here, not the same way as Dusty. Braeburn couldn't do that to Daring, the mare who had already been put through far too much for one pony to handle.

"Brae! Jump now!"

At her call, the stallion trusted her judgement and leaped forward, this time with more than enough room. He did the same with the next blade as Daring arrived at the safe end of the hallway. Just one more jump, that was all it took. But the door was closing, and the mare was doing everything she could try to hold the giant slab open, although to no avail. He had no time to wait for her signal, nor to so much as look at the final guillotine's position. Braeburn dove forward, his eyes darting to the swinging razor edge a mere yard away from his face, closing in too fast to avoid.

"BRAEBURN!"

The world slowed to a crawl as Braeburn watched the final moment of his life flash before him. This was it. The end of the infamous lineage was about to be extinguished. Everything he knew, everypony he knew, was about to disappear in a swift slice of steel. It was all for not. All the hard work he had put into living a good life, being as kind and humble as a pony could be...none of it mattered. What had he done to die like this, in the worst way he could possibly imagine? Was this really the end?

...No...

No. Not like this. He wasn't about to just give up and die. He was Braeburn Apple; the hardest worker the Apple family had ever seen, the hero of Dodge Junction, the descendant of a legend! He was going to live, even if he were to be crippled instead. "NO!"

With a cry of defiant outrage, Braeburn ripped Thumper from the scabbard on his back in midair. Before the blade could reach him, he brought the steel of the barrel between the razor edge and his face. Sparks flew as the two collided, throwing the riflepony through the air and into the wall, pinned but for a mere second by the giant guillotine. The wound on his back ground against the jagged stone wall, forcing a cry of agony from his lips. The blade fell from the apex of its swing, allowing the wounded stallion to fall limply to the sandstone floor in a heap. He felt the old Marechester fly from his hooves, almost unnoticed by his barely-conscious mind. He laid on the floor across his stomach, feeling himself being dragged by his right hindhoof, just barely under the descending slab of dark granite. Braeburn closed his eyes, panting heavily. His senses seemed to dull to something along the lines of nonexistence, save for the screaming pain across his spine. He heard nothing; saw nothing. Everything around him was a blur, and the beige earth pony fell into a deep sleep.

The stone slab closed with a trembling thud, sending a slight quake through the cavern floor. The dying light of the lantern cast a faint orange glow, only illuminating their immediate surroundings. Daring Do scrambled through her bags, searching for the roll of gauze with trembling hooves. The mare had to take a fraction of a second to wipe the tears from her face, her emotions getting the best of her. Trepidation coursed through her quivering muscles as Braeburn's eyes closed, dread falling upon her face. "Braeburn! Come on! Stay with me here!"

The pegasus shook him violently, attempting to open his eyes again. The stallion was losing too much blood, and it was starting to form a small pool on his left side. Forcing her mind to think objectively, Daring tore the ripped section of duster from his body, revealing the long cut. She allowed herself a short sigh of relief once she saw that the wound wasn't deep. However, it was enough to draw a steady flow of crimson. She fought through her tears and eventually quelled the bleeding with every layer of bandages she could apply.

Daring took long breaths, unwilling to let herself hyperventilate. He was breathing, and the bleeding was stopped. There was nothing more she could do, except wait. In any other circumstance, Daring would have immediately searched their new surroundings out of nothing but curiosity. But in this moment, she couldn't take her eyes off the unconscious stallion in front if her. Braeburn laid on his right side, his body rising and falling with the slightest of breaths. The once jubilant earth pony now laid beaten and broken, hundreds of feet underground in the middle of the desert. He didn't deserve this much pain. All he wanted to do was save his family's business, and the poor stallion's body was pushed far beyond its limits.

It was her fault, all her fault. She had made a terrible mistake; taking an inexperienced pony into such a dangerous place. Daring truly thought that this wasn't going to be anything like the tomb of the Sapphire Statue. But in hindsight, it was exactly like that terrible place. Everything down to the hall of blades. What was Cunning the Colt thinking, building such a dangerous slew of devices? Didn't he leave all of this behind for his descendant? Perhaps this entire tomb was just his dark sense of humor. But in the end, the blame could not be placed on a pony that had been dead for hundreds of years. It could only be placed on the reckless Daring Do. Once again, she had allowed another pony to assist her in a place where they would only be a liability. Yes, they had insisted relentlessly that they would go, but she still had the final decision, and she messed it up both times.

Hadn't she grown since then? Hadn't she learned a thing since that terrible day? Apparently not, she thought. Daring was sure that Braeburn was different. He was, in fact. The archaeologist thought that this was in no way the same. The attraction wasn't there this time, there was no previous infatuation. Dusty Trails had died because she didn't prepare him enough. She was young and arrogant, with the preconceived notion that nothing so horrid could happen to them, even after her parent's death. Even seven years later, Daring Do hadn't learned a thing from that experience. All that ran through her mind was that giant blade swinging toward Braeburn, a fraction of a second away from ending his life. She had just stood there, helpless and horrified. Not since she was a young filly did the esteemed archaeologist feel so weak and vulnerable. She was confident in her own abilities to laugh in the face of death, but when it came to protecting the ones she cared about...she was reckless. Would she ever learn? Could she even go on with her passion for uncovering the unknown after this? Even if the mare was alone the next time, the memories would always be there.

Daring Do opened her eyes again, allowing a fresh flow of tears to spill over and flow down her cheeks. Her tight throat convulsed several times, forcing a small fit of hiccups from her quivering lips. "There you go again B-Brae, making me cry like a filly..." She shifted closer to him on her haunches, giving the lightest of punches to his shoulder. "...Y-You stubborn mule. Why did you h-have to come with me? Why couldn't you realize how much p-pain you were already in?" But he wasn't being stubborn; he was being brave. "I'm s-so sorry Braeburn." She couldn't look at him anymore. The dark-yellow mare clamped her eyes shut, tucking her face into the crooks of her forelegs. For whatever reason, Daring didn't feel her pride rise at yet another bout of sorrow. Instead, she let herself cry in silence.

She had no idea how Braeburn had such an effect on her, to make her emotions run high at every turn. Perhaps it wasn't him specifically. Perhaps it had simply been that long since she allowed her feelings to overflow like this. It would certainly explain the past three days very clearly. It wasn't Braeburn, it was a shoulder to cry on. A pony to listen to her problems, one that wouldn't judge or leave her. Even if it was just for now, she needed him. She couldn't be alone right now, not at this point in her life.

A sharp breath that was not her own echoed through the room, forcing a noise of shock from her lips. Daring immediately wiped her face clean, messing her soaked fur. She sighed in relief at the sight of Braeburn's eyes flickering open. His once bright emerald iris' were now dull with fatigue, weary and unfocused. "Brae? Are you alright?"

The beige stallion grunted in response, although not without a reassuring grin. "Tired. Where...Where are we?"

Daring's lips cured into a small smile. "Somewhere safe."

"That's new," he said quietly, slowly rising into a sitting position. The mare steadied his shoulders as he rose to his haunches. The stallion pulled his duster closer to his torso, noticing the long tear in the canvas. "Aww, horseapples...Silver Snips is gonna have my hide fer this."

"Are you cold?"

"A little," he admitted.

"Here," she whispered, wrapping her forelegs around him. Braeburn recoiled only slightly before relaxing in her embrace. He slowly raised a single hoof to return the hug, chuckling quietly. "Somethin' wrong?"

"Not anymore Brae," she replied, resting her muzzle into his lustrous blonde mane. "Not anymore."

Twelve - The Infamous Legacy

The sun outside had finally set, but the clouds over the horizon still glowed a dull orange from the dying sunlight. Applejack however, could no longer find comfort in the beautiful view. Her mind was at a state of unease, hoping that her cousin was alive and well. Twilight had been helpful, but ultimately useless in quelling her extreme amount of worry. The orange earth pony merely stared out the dusty window from her uncle's recliner, absentmindedly counting the quiet snores of the slumbering pegasus in the other room. Twilight had busied herself with the front page of the latest Western Weekly, her eyes darting across the paper as quick as could be, taking in every bit of information that had to do with the 'Hero of Dodge Junction.'

"I didn't know Dodge Junction had become such a criminally-active place," she noted aloud, her voice heavy with despair. "Did you know anything about this AJ?"

"Not even a clue," the farmer replied with a sigh, leaning back in the enormous chair.

"Should we tell your uncle about this? I mean, it's in the paper, so he's going to find out eventually."

Applejack chewed on her lower lip as she sat up on her haunches. She hadn’t thought of that before. Surely Bullet Tyme would blow a gasket over his only son in the area of the dangerous bandit known as Sure Shot. Not only that, but his earlier outburst would pale in comparison to what was to come if he found out. Applejack wasn’t too keen to be in the same town during such an explosion. The orange mare turned her right ear in the direction of the firing range, relieved to hear the continuous muffled blasts of gunfire. To her surprise, the shots sounded as quick as Braeburn’s. He must have had plenty of anger to release.

“But…I imagine that he might shoot us if we tell him,” Twilight concluded, as if she had read her friend’s mind. Applejack allowed herself a nervous chuckle.

Twilight let the slightest of grins play across her lips, her overall expression only somewhat serious. "He might shoot us if we don't tell him."

"Our chances don't look too good, huh Twi'?" she half-smiled.

"AJ, I'm serious," the unicorn continued, looking more and more distressed. "I don't want to interfere in your family's matters, but that's his son out there. I can't imagine that his wife feels any diff...Wait..."

Twilight cocked an eyebrow, looking around the Appleloosan home with curiosity. "Where is Braeburn's mother?"

Applejack lowered her eyelids, looking down to the old wooden floor. She sighed heavily, tucking her forehooves under her chest atop the plush recliner. The farmpony tilted her notched stetson forward, although not far enough to veil her eyes. Thankfully, Twilight seemed to grasp the hint.

"Oh," she said quietly, sorrow etching her face. "I'm sorry, I didn't know."

"S'not yer fault Twi'," Applejack replied with a reassuring grin.

"How...I mean, if you don't mind telling me..."

"Some sorta' rare heart disease," she said. "Took her in the middle of the night, 'bout five years ago, Ah reckon. Doctor told us she went painlessly, but we didn't take no solace in that."

A grave silence filled the living room after that. A sorrowful aura hung over them, perhaps more over Twilight than Applejack. The orange mare grew tired of the floor beneath her, and instead turned her gaze to her friend. The violet unicorn let out a sad little sigh, her chest deflating. "That's just so...sad. Braeburn seems like such a kind pony. A little excitable maybe, but kind nonetheless."

"Ah guess so," Applejack agreed, trying to lighten to mood in the room. "Uncle B never really gave him much room fer it, but Braeburn always managed to keep a smile on his face. But sometimes it wasn't the best thing fer him."

"How do you mean?"

"My cousin has a bad habit of bottlin' things up inside," Applejack answered. "When his mother passed, Braeburn didn't cry or even get mad. The next mornin' he just kept his head down and went out to the orchard, buckin' apples fer the whole day without so much as a break. He didn't talk to nopony, he didn't look at nopony. But fer the rest of that week he seemed like the happiest pony in the world, like his Ma was still alive and kickin'."

"But something happened, didn't it?" Twilight asked, dread forming in her eyes.

Applejack nodded gravely. "It was probably the scariest thing Ah've ever seen. When ya' grow up with a pony like Braeburn, ya' get used to him being nothin' but nice and happy from sunup to sundown. But one day he just lost it. Ah came up here fer the weekend one day to find him hollerin' at the top of his lungs at one of Uncle B's workers. And he wasn't just yellin', it looked like Brae was 'bout to bite that poor colt's face off. Took me, Bullet and Big Mac to get him away and calmed down."

Twilight's eyes flew open. "Wait, this was Braeburn?!"

"Ya' only saw him fer one day Twi'," she grinned. "Can't exactly grasp who a pony really is in that amount of time. Granted, Braeburn is all-'round a kind stallion, but he can have his rare moments like that. Ah've only seen that happen once. He kept his feelin's tucked away fer too long, just waitin' to lash out at the first outlet it could find. Just goes to show that everypony is just that; a pony."

As soon as Applejack finished her sentence, the door to the gun range creaked open slowly. The orange mare jumped to a sitting position, gesturing for Twilight to hide the newspaper as quickly as possible. The purple unicorn panicked for the briefest of moments, her horn flashing with an unknown conjuring. Thankfully, Bullet Tyme never saw the purple flare of magic before he emerged into the living room. He had a tired look on his face, laced with what looked like guilt. The middle-aged stallion immediately gave Twilight an apologetic look.

"Ah'm a mite sorry you two," he said with a heavy sigh. "Ah shouldn't have acted out like that. S'nothin' but shameful on my part."

Twilight and Applejack's faces fell into disbelief. They quickly gathered their composure, unaware of what the unicorn's spell had done. "Oh that's alright Uncle B! Don't think nothin' of it!"

"Yeah!" Twilight chimed in, nodding frantically. "It's okay! We all get angry sometimes!"

Bullet Tyme's eyebrow twitched ever-so slightly, eliciting feigned grins from the two mares. Thankfully, Bullet shrugged their odd behavior off and took the newspaper in his forehooves. Applejack cringed, ready for the row that was about to occur.

"Huh...'Price of ammunition drops'. Good news, but not somethin' Ah'd put on the front page. Guess nothin's goin' on worth talkin' 'bout these days."

With that, Bullet Tyme exited the room, leaving Twilight and Applejack to sigh in relief.

"He's going to find out eventually you know," the unicorn whispered, making sure her words were out of his earshot.

"Well what d'ya think we should do 'bout it?"

"Look, you're worried about Braeburn, right?"

"O' course Ah'm worried!" Applejack hissed in distress.

"And you don't want to be around when Bullet Tyme finds out about him, right?"

"What're ya' getting at Twi'?"

The violet mare turned her head in all directions, as if the old stallion were going to pop in from any angle. When she looked satisfied that the coast was clear, Twilight leaned her head in close, gesturing for Applejack to follow suit. "Then let's go to Dodge and see what's going on!" she whispered.

"What? We can't just up and leave!" the orange mare retorted. "At least Ah can't! There's still work on the farm to be done here, and Ah promised Uncle B that Ah'd be here to help! Not to mention Ah told Daring that Ah wouldn't tell nopony 'bout her!"

"Then tell her I wouldn't let you go alone," Twilight argued, perhaps a little louder than she intended. As realization dawn upon her, the purple unicorn threw a hoof over her mouth, surprised at the volume of her own voice. Applejack didn't have time to quietly scold her, for her words were overridden by the sound of approaching hoofsteps.

"Go alone where, AJ?" came a gruff, hoarse voice. Applejack whipped her head around in shock to find her uncle standing behind the recliner, the newspaper rolled up in the crook of his foreleg. He raised his eyebrows, lids low to form a flat expression. "Wouldn't happen ta' be talkin' 'bout Dodge Junction...would ya'?"

Dread crept down her spine, her face contorted into a transparent veil of confusion. The way he emphasized the name of the town sent a cold shiver through her being. Before she could formulate a lie, Bullet Tyme tossed the printed stack of parchment onto the table between the two mares. To their horror, the front page had returned to its previous article, showing the picture of Braeburn as plain as day, along with the headline: DODGE JUNCTION'S NEW HERO.

"Twilight!" Applejack scolded.

The lavender mare looked equally mortified. "Oh no! I'm sorry! I was nervous and I couldn't cast a strong enough spell! I must've-"

"Ah don't care what yer spell was supposed ta' do," Bullet interjected, his tone dangerously calm. "Ah don't know ya' well enough Miss Sparkle, but Ah can't say that Ah'm not disappointed. But Applejack...Ya' know full and well that Ah care 'bout my son, despite how much he can aggravate me at times."

Applejack lowered her head in shame. She knew that it wasn't right to keep such information away from her uncle. It wasn't her intention for him to never find out, just not from her. However, she knew the stallion would take no solace in that.

"Ah'm sorry Uncle B, Ah just didn't know how you'd...well, take it."

"Well Ah'm takin' it like this," he answered, looking back to Twilight. "Miss Sparkle, do me a favor and take your pegasus friend and go home ta' Ponyville. Applejack, Ah want ya' ta' go with them."

"What? But Uncle B-"

"Ah don't wanna hear it AJ," Bullet grunted, turning back to his niece. "That bandit doesn't go nowhere without a whole gaggle of followers 'round him. My son is in danger, and Ah'm goin' ta' make sure he's alive!"

Applejack furrowed her brow, a sudden bravery rising in her chest as she stood up on the floor. She met his gaze despite the height difference, looking him right in the eye. "Ah know what Ah did was wrong, but Ah'm not a filly no more. I'm an adult, and so is my older cousin! Ah'm not goin' home when my family might be in danger! Ah'm goin' to Dodge too."

Bullet Tyme almost immediately exhaled a long breath, his chest deflating in defeat. "Fine," he said before looking over to Twilight. "Ah would appreciate if ya' let this be a family matter, Miss Sparkle. If it's easier fer ya', sleep here and leave in the mornin'. AJ and Ah are leavin' right now."

With a nod, Bullet Tyme left the living room once again, allowing Applejack to turn around to face Twilight. Her unicorn friend looked sad and guilty, as if he had just lied to Princess Celestia herself. She looked up to the farmpony, rubbing her forehooves together in a fidgeting motion. "I'm sorry AJ."

"S'alright Sugarcube," she smiled. "Ah doubt Braeburn's in any real trouble, but we just gotta make sure. Stay the night here with Rainbow Dash and leave fresh in the mornin'."

"Are you sure you'll be okay?" Twilight asked, to which she received a nod in response. "Alright. I'll be sure to send you a letter when we get home, and I'll place a reply spell on it you can send a note back if you want."

"Come on AJ!" came her uncle's voice from the other room.

"That's my ride Ah guess," Applejack sighed. "And remember, don't tell Rainbow 'bout Daring."

Braeburn and Daring Do sat on the cold stone floor in each other's embrace for what seemed like ages. When the earth pony thought she was done, the pegasus only held on tighter. It was as if she simply couldn't let him go; as if his well-being depended on her embrace. Silence rang in the dark cavern as Braeburn reveled in her warmth, absentmindedly counting the gentle thumps of her heartbeat. It may have taken a few minutes for him to realize it, but this was all that the stallion wanted. It was what he longed for since she saved his life. Now that she had done it again, his affection only redoubled for the only pony he could call a true friend.

"How are you feeling?" she asked gently, her voice slightly muffled into his long mane.

"Warm," he chuckled. "Ah'm more concerned 'bout you right now. Yer bein' awfully clingy."

"Don't be," she whispered. "I'm not the one who just cheated death. I'm just...I'm just happy you're okay."

Braeburn nodded, giving her a final squeeze before letting her go. He knew it; his previous assumptions were correct, and this as only confirmed when she rubbed her eyes with her forehooves. The stallion gave her a reassuring smile, and she sniffed in response. He didn't need to ask what was wrong, or why she had clung to him for several quiet minutes. Daring was almost adorable when she let herself feel. She was so much more than the hard-boiled action hero of the books. She was real.

"Ah thought we were done bein' sappy," he mused. "Ah'm startin' to think ya' might have a little crush on me."

"Maybe I needed to be sappy Brae," she replied softly. "After all this time-"

"Shh," he interrupted, holding up a hoof. "Ah get it. Now can we get outta here so Ah can get some rest? Ah don't think my body can take no more o' this nonsense."

"Then don't jump in front of a swinging blade you daft mule," she replied, her voice cracking with subtle laughter. "Can you move with your back like that?"

Braeburn answered by standing wearily to his hooves, cursing under his breath from the stinging pain of his wound. As he rose, he felt something covering his cut. The stallion thanked her with a smile, and she replied with a simple nod. Daring then extracted a small aluminum can of lantern oil from her bags, removing the cap and pouring its contents into the dying lantern. The orange flame burst back to life, casting its glow around them. Their surroundings were instantly illuminated, and the two were shocked to see what was revealed.

They stood in a much smaller hallway, this one not adorned with anything but the natural stone the alcove was made out of. Directly in front of them was a deep pit, its bottom unseen through the thick veil of shadow. Ten feet ahead on the other side of the pit was what looked like a prison cell; iron bars set into the stone with a locked door in its middle, right at the edge of the cliff. Braeburn gasped at the sight of a steel box, standing atop a chest-high pedestal. Behind the column was a single door, which looked to be unlocked and ready to be opened. It must have been the way out of the dungeon, and the box must have contained the treasure.

"Oh my gosh," Daring whispered, her mood lifting almost instantly. "That's it! We found it Braeburn!"

"Hehe, yeah," he smiled. "But...how do we get to it? This here pit is too wide to jump across, not to mention there's nothing to jump to on the other side with those bars in the way."

Without a word, Daring flew over to the other side, inspecting the door and its lock. She even tried to fit herself through the iron bars, only to find that just a hoof could fit. She slid her foreleg through the bars, tapping at the back of the lock. "That's weird. This lock is made of case-hardened steel and has no keyhole...but the back is made of aluminum." Daring landed back on Braeburn's side of the pit, cocking her head at the cell.

"What? Why would Cunning do that?" he asked.

"Why would he make this easy?" she countered. "Something has to break the lock if it doesn't have a key."

"So...Ah should shoot it?" he asked with a shrug. Daring cocked an unimpressed eyebrow.

"Not at that type of steel. It would only ricochet and possibly hit us," she sighed, rubbing her chin with a hoof. "Something needs to strike the weaker metal on the back."

"Alright, but where's..." Braeburn trailed off. He searched the floor for his missing rifle, finding it near the closed slab of stone. However, there was something wrong. The stallion's face fell when he approached the weapon. The wooden forestock had been split in twine, a vertical silver gouge cut into the left side of the barrel. Braeburn sighed, far too tired to be angry. Surprisingly enough, the swinging blade hadn't been enough to bend nor slice the steel enough to render it useless. For now, Thumper still had half of its front stock, which he could more than likely replace in the future. In the end, he was just lucky to be alive. He didn't wish to think of what would have happened if it weren't for Thumper. He pushed the spring-loaded cartridge gate open to find the back of the last brass shell he had left. Braeburn had forgotten about his lack of ammunition, and hoped that he would need any more than one bullet until they got out of this place.

"Ah hope ya' got an idea in mind," Braeburn started, turning back to the archaeologist. "'Cause we ain't gettin' out the way we came in."

"Pfft. Are you new here or something?" Daring chided. "That's been the case since we got dropped into this tomb."

"Daring," he said flatly. "Please, Ah'm exhausted."

"Can't take a joke anymore I guess," she mused, walking over to the edge of the dark pit. "Okay, last roadblock at the end of the tunnel. Let's look at what we know. The bars were made to not allow a pony to fit through, and there's no way we're moving them. The pit separating us from the cell is about three yards wide, so there must be a reason for its existence. That box stands atop a column made of the same steel as the front of the lock, so it's bullet...proof..."

Braeburn sat down next to her, saving his energy. He noticed something dawn upon her like a slap in the face. Her eyes glinted, brows furrowing. "He wanted his treasure to only be obtained by somepony worthy of his legacy. Meaning, the one that inherited not only his rifle prowess, but Thumper as well. Only you can open that lock Braeburn."

"What d'ya mean?" he asked. Daring only gave him a tired look, gesturing to the rifle in his hooves.

"Isn't it obvious? You need to shoot the back of the lock where it's weak, by ricocheting a bullet off the steel column. That's why the pit is there, so the shot is more difficult. The bars are too close together to weave the gun through, that'd be too easy."

"Lemme get this straight," Braeburn exhaled. "Ya' want me to shoot that there stand in a way that bounces the round directly into the back o' that tiny-as-heck lock?"

"Yessir."

"You understand that Ah only have one shot left, right?"

"Uh-huh."

"And if Ah miss, we're stuck down here with no way out."

Daring went to reply, but then closed her mouth just as soon as she opened it. The dark-yellow mare brushed her monochromatic bangs from her eyes, looking down to the stone floor. As uncertainty overtook her face, horror came over Braeburn's as the truth hit him like a bucket of ice-cold water. He never knew the reality of the situation until he said those words. If he couldn't make the shot...they would die down here. Could he even attempt such a feat? The idea itself sounded impossible to do on purpose. Whenever a bullet ricocheted off a hard surface, it was usually at a wide, unpredictable angle. How could he calculate such a tight corner without only shooting himself or Daring in the process?

But...he wouldn't know until he tried. Braeburn stood up with a painful grunt, holding Thumper in his mouth as he walked to the left side of the pit, kneeling on the edge. He crouched on his hindlegs, bringing the barrel of the weapon level with the steel column. As soon as the iron sights were aligned, the riflepony lowered the weapon again. His hooves shook in fear of the thought of failure. There was no second chance. If he missed, their lives would end in the underground tomb. They would never be found, they would never be saved. Both of their fates were in his hooves, and the stallion didn't know if he could handle it.

Daring Do slowly and carefully walked over, sitting on her haunches next to him. He didn't look to her, but to the Marechester instead. From the corner of his vision, he watched the pegasus take off her signature pith hat, placing it to the floor in front of her. "I get it," she said quietly. "But you can't let the stress get to you. You have to remember who you are."

"A scared little colt who's in way over his head?"

"Oh really?" she perked up, catching his gaze. "You think you're out of your league here? Even after putting Sure Shot and his crew of bandits behind bars with your deeds? Come on Brae. If I didn't trust your ability to do this, then my hooves wouldn't be as still as they are."

The mare took his shaking right forehoof in hers, emphasizing her point. "Don't think. Just do."

Braeburn sighed, taking his hoof back and slowly raising to his hindlegs. She was right, just like always. He may not have liked it, but he was the descendant of a legendary shooter. If any pony could do this, it was him. The riflepony let a determined scowl creep across his face as he flipped the rifle of myth around his hoof, racking the action with a triumphant flair. The scarred barrel fell onto his right forehoof while he switched the other into the trigger guard of the lever. The sights found their mark, and he adjusted the angle of his shot. The stallion gritted his teeth as he cast out his thoughts to an impossible recipient:

Alright Cunning, ya' brought me this far, so Ah guess ya' really trust yer bloodline or somethin'. Ah gotta say, Ah'm startin' to believe it myself. Ah mean, what else could'a given me this...talent, Ah guess? Ya' know, Ah'm havin' a real hard time acceptin' the pony Ah'm related to. Ah'm not like you, in any way...but...yer still my grandpappy. My distant grandpappy, who gave me the chance to save my farm. Ya' may not have been able to predict it, but yer really savin' my flank here. So...thank you, Cunning the Colt. Thank you...grandfather...

Braeburn opened his eyes, and pulled the trigger.

The small alcove echoed with the tremendous bang of the .30-30 round, causing an immediate ringing to resound in his ears. Sparks erupted from the steel column, and then the right wall of the cell. Chunks of stone exploded from the wall, eliciting a horrified look from the riflepony. However, his dread only lasted for a fraction of a second. With a flash or orange light, the metallic lock on the cell door burst into an explosion of steel and sparks, allowing the ungrounded bars to fly open in their iron frame.

"And BOOM goes the dynamite!" Daring exclaimed in elation, throwing her hooves into the air. Braeburn allowed his eyes to widen as large as saucers before he wore a bright grin.

"By Celestia and Luna," he whispered. "That actually worked."

"Of course it worked," Daring chimed in, attracting his gaze. "I told you it would. Now come on!"

The archaeologist drove her wings backward, propelling herself through the gap in the iron bars. His veins running hot with adrenaline, Braeburn sheathed Thumper, backing up a few steps and leaping the gap with a three-yard head-start. He skidded to a halt in front of the scarred column, his eyes transfixed on the black, dust-coated box.

This was it, the moment they had worked tirelessly for since the day Daring Do had come into his life. The treasure that Cunning the Colt himself had left behind for him, hundreds of years ago. He looked to the mare next to him, the pegasus that changed his life forever. She cocked an eyebrow at him, although not without a small smile.

"Is there a reason you haven't opened that box yet?" she chuckled.

"What? Why would Ah do it? Yer the one that found Cunning's first clues!"

"Yeah, but he didn't leave it for me," she countered. "He left it for you."

"But...Ya' spent so much time trying to find this. It was yer expedition, not mine. Ah can't take that from ya'."

"Well that's too bad, 'cause you're gonna. He's your ancestor. Now open that chest, or I'm not walking out of here until you do."

Braeburn sighed, knowingly beaten. He felt guilty for taking her well-deserved prize, but he knew that the pegasus was just as stubborn as he was. If she said that she wasn't going to do it, then the stallion believed her. He nodded to her with an appreciative smile, turning back to the box.

The chest wasn't anything special or ornate as he expected. Instead, it looked like a simple lock box, just without the lock. He blew the dust from its surface, coughing a few times as some of the particles found their way into his mouth and nose. He took in a long, apprehensive breath, and opened the box.

Luna's radiant moon had shone bright in the Western night sky, accented perfectly by the twinkling stars above. Even through a dusty window pane, the sight was nothing short of breathtaking. Without the summer sun's harmful rays, a cool chill was allowed to provide a comforting air to the small town. Their journey may have only taken a few days, but the events that had transpired made it feel like weeks instead. Shootings, discovery, revelations, sorrow and even a little pain from the past had occurred. Now that it was all over, now that the puzzle had been solved and all the questions had been answered, they were finally able to breathe, finally able to relax.

Daring Do stared out the small window, her eyes staring unfocused at the beautiful vista. It had been over a month since she could just sit down and breathe. All the time and effort trying to track down Cunning the Colt's last piece of remembrance had finally paid off. In actuality, it had been the shortest expedition of her career, but that did not mean it hadn't been the most difficult, in more ways than one. It wasn't just the tiring weeks of planning and research, alone without her usual team of archaeologists. No, it was also the physical and emotional pain she was forced to endure, both derived from the same source.

The lavish train car rattled slightly, forcing a male voice to groan subconsciously. Daring cast her fatigued eyes to the stallion across from her, sprawled out on the other maroon couch with a blanket snuggled close to his body. He had wrapped himself tight in the warmth of the covers, his thick blonde mane carelessly swayed over the left side of his face. The beige earth stallion rested peacefully, like a newborn foal after living the first day of his life. The poor riflepony had been put through a veritable gauntlet of physical torment and trials. After the many injuries he had endured, Daring was more than happy to see him rest, safe and sound. The exhausted stallion hadn't been able to undress before he simply passed out on the couch. Nevertheless, his bags, duster, hat and rifle laid in a neat pile underneath the table. Aside his belongings were her own; a white pith hat, a pair of saddlebags and a tattered olive-green shirt. In the midst of the pile was a battered, black steel box, wrapped tightly in a locking cable to prevent any sort of unsavory loss or theft.

The dark-yellow mare laid on her stomach, her forelegs tucked underneath her chest. Her eyes felt like barbells, although unable to close despite their weight. Sleep simply hadn't been able to come to her, even after the severe lack of rest from the past month. If it wasn't one thing keeping her awake, it was another, it seemed. For now, it was the throbbing soreness in her chest that banished even the mere thought of sleep. Her wings laid limp at her sides, their pinion feathers sprawled out and motionless.

The door to her train car slid open slowly and quietly, wary of anypony's slumber. From the threshold emerged a tall, light-gray stallion with a sleek mane and tail of jet-black. His small blue eyes bore thin lines under them, their lids low. The earth pony's usual conductor's visor and vest were gone, revealing a broad, powerful-looking chest. Upon his flank was a golden pocket watch. Even though she had just shared a long conversation with the stallion, it took a second or two for Daring to recognize him through her fatigue.

"Ah, he's asleep. Good thing too," Artemis whispered, closing the door behind him. "That boy looked like he was about to die right there on his hooves."

"After what he's been through, I'm surprised he didn't," she mused, although halfheartedly. "So what's up Art?"

"I just wanted to let you know that we'll be in Canterlot by sunrise, and that you should really get some sleep," he said with a flat tone. "You look like death."

"You know just how to flatter a lady."

"Since when are you a lady?" Artemis laughed, to which Daring allowed herself a smile.

"Duly noted."

Artemis snorted out an amused breath, looking over to Braeburn. "To think that pony shares the same blood with a myth. That's nothing short of amazing. I'm surprised he's not some sort of bandit himself."

"Quite the opposite, actually," Daring said. "He's probably the nicest stallion I've ever known. I just hope other ponies don't shun him for his lineage."

"If he keeps doing deeds like what he did to Sure Shot, I don't think that will be a problem," the gray stallion said. "Yup, I think he brings a whole new meaning to the name."

"Name?"

"The Colt of the West, of course," he smirked. Daring smiled at that. That seemed like a fair-enough name for him. It was something ponies from Dodge Junction and Appleloosa would fashion, just as they had for Cunning all those centuries ago. The new Colt of the West. It was unnaturally fitting, somehow.

"You know..." said Artemis, the laughter disappearing from his voice as he took on a more serious expression. "I'm glad that you decided to tell me the truth about everything. If I had known, I wouldn't have written that insensitive letter to you. I just wanted you to be safe."

"It's okay Artemis. I should have just trusted you from the beginning and told you up front," she said, returning her gaze to the plush cushion in front of her face. "Sometimes it's just hard for me."

"But not with Braeburn here, eh?" he grinned, gesturing to the unconscious stallion. "So when are you going to tell him?"

Daring cocked an eyebrow, her confused face bolting up in his direction. "Tell him what?"

"Stop playing around Missy."

"Art, I'm too tired for games. What are you talking about?" she asked, her eyelids only half-opened. Instead of answering, the conductor only grinned and opened the car door.

But before he disappeared into the night, the stallion poked his head through the opening. Artemis cast a series of looks between Braeburn, their luggage and Daring. "Wasn't that boy wearing his clothes when he passed out?"

"Aren't you supposed to be conducting a freaking train?"

With a barking laugh, her godfather closed the door after he departed. Daring let out a grunt of exhausted irritation, letting her head fall onto the couch.

"Ridiculous."

Thirteen - A Little Miracle

Canterlot was a place unlike any the simple farmer had ever seen before. Tall towers, lavish plazas and bright colors all around. It was a nice change of pace from the desolate flatlands of the West, but he still felt enormously out of place. It didn't help that even at early morning, the well-dressed, high-society ponies were already walking the streets, giving Braeburn odd or even cross looks as they passed the train station. Even after removing his tattered duster, all it took was a cowpony hat like his to draw attention in such a metropolis. Daring hadn't much luck being unnoticed either. Despite donning her old black traveling cloak, her signature mane and tail forced a few necks to snap in her direction. It was mostly the gazes of curious colts and fillies, but gazes nonetheless. The mare looked as if this was the last place she wanted to be, which seemed true enough.

Artemis had been kind enough to switch his train to the Metro line for them, more or less to reconnect with his goddaughter during the ride to the city. It didn't matter to Braeburn, for the trip was reserved for much-needed rest in his case. As if exploring a treacherous underground tomb wasn't enough, exiting it was an even more tiring endeavor. Behind the door was a narrow sandstone staircase, which seemed to take forever to ascend. After climbing hundreds of feet, they had emerged from a pile of boulders alongside the other end of the plateau range. Cunning had indeed done a good job of hiding the exit in a place nopony would ever think to look, not to mention the one-way door behind the guise of enormous stones. It took the better part of an hour, but eventually they were able to find their way back to Dodge Junction. Of course, Daring's superior navigational skills had helped tremendously.

Braeburn and Daring Do wiped their eyes as Artemis stepped down from the front of the locomotive and onto the station's platform. The beige earth pony had left his rifle and duster behind, only wearing his hat and a single bag slung over his back. Inside was the locked metal box, its contents rattling around with every step. For good measure, Daring held onto the key that unlocked its bindings, just in case somepony tried to rob them on their way to the museum. After all they went through to obtain Cunning's treasure, they weren't about to take any chances.

"It's weird being here again," Artemis noted, looking up at the skyline ahead. "I got used to the West, I guess."

"You and me both," laughed Daring. "So you're going to wait here? You know we might be a while."

"Not a problem at all. I'll just tell other ponies that this train is reserved. Not like any pony from here wants to visit a place like Dodge, but you can never be too sure."

"Well I guess we're off then," Daring grinned, waving goodbye before turning to Braeburn.

"Hold on a second, Daring," Artemis interjected, holding her back by the shoulder. "I'd just like to have a quick word with you before you leave."

"No problem," said Braeburn. "Ah'll just go on ahead and check out the sights. Seems like an interestin' kind o' place!"

Without so much as another look, Braeburn trotted off and into the large entrance plaza.

Daring had the objection on her lips, but ultimately couldn't voice her reluctance. She knew what her godfather wanted, and also that she couldn't run from it now. It needed to be said, the pegasus knew that. But that didn't stop the dread from producing a cold bead of sweat upon her brow. In the end, all she could do was watch Braeburn walk away, unaware of how long she was staring for.

"Now don't take this the wrong way," he started, his voice calm and careful. "Before I say this, just know that all I want is for you to be happy."

"I know," she replied, her voice cracking.

"I'm aware of the pain you've gone through now, and I'm glad you finally told me. But...why are you doing this to yourself? Don't you think that you deserve to be happy?"

Daring's mind immediately considered dismissing the entire accusation once again. However, she knew she couldn't. He was right about one thing: the mare was only bringing herself more pain. But...did she truly deserve to be happy? It certainly didn't feel like it. After her last attempt at happiness, the world had penalized her reckless actions and took away the one thing she cared the most about. Daring had always believed that the universe had delivered a clear message that day. Perhaps it wasn't the world, maybe it was merely chance. Artemis seemed to read her mind when he said:

"That was seven years ago, Daring. You were young, things happen."

"Yeah, things happen," she scoffed. "But that wasn't just a thing."

"I know, that's not what I'm trying to say."

The mare grit her teeth, looking up to the tall stallion before her as her anger rose. "You weren't there Art. You didn't feel what I felt."

"You still feel guilty," he said, as if it was just then dawning upon him. "But you're right; I wasn't there, and I will never know how you feel. What I do know, is that it wasn't your fault. You were still a kid, Daring. You weren't the seasoned archaeologist, nor the adult you are today. I don't want to try and run your life; I never have. But when I see you look at that stallion, I can see what he does to you. That, and I can see what you do to him."

Daring's frustration simply disappeared at the sound of his last nine words. To her surprise, her eyes shot open and her head snapped to attention, purely by reflex.

"Aha! See what I mean?" the conductor grinned. "If he makes you happy, then go to him. Stop living this life of self-loathing and let yourself enjoy it instead."

Artemis merely smiled at her after that, forcing Daring's gaze away from him and to the patterned tiles of the platform. Perhaps...he was right. There wasn't a single thing she could have done all those years ago. But what she felt for Dusty Trails didn't compare to the throbbing pain in her chest that she had now. It hurt because she was conflicted. Braeburn was the best friend she could have asked for, a pony that didn't judge or condemn her for her past. In fact, she remembered him crying right there with her in the tomb after she let him know about everything. It was true, he did care about her that much, despite the fact that they had been acquainted only days before. But she still wasn't certain of how she really felt. Was it true, or were her emotions clouding with her judgement? She couldn't make that mistake, not with Braeburn.

"It's not that simple, Art," she sighed.

"It never is, is it?" he snorted. "What is it going to take for you to accept this?"

"The problem is that I don't know if there is anything to accept," she answered solemnly. "What if my heart doesn't know what it's doing right now? What if I'm subconsciously mistaking my feelings for infatuation?"

Artemis furrowed his brow, looking back to the towering skyline ahead. "I suppose, in your position, there isn't a way for you to be sure."

Daring turned her head back to Artemis, searching for any sort of answer in his expression. "What do I do, Art? I don't wanna lose his friendship, but at the same time...I don't think I can...ugh! I just don't know!"

"Maybe you just need time," he suggested matter-of-factly. "You know, to see if your feelings change."

"I don't think I'll ever be anything but confused if I'm around him much longer," she whispered, barely loud enough for the stallion to hear. "Maybe I need to listen to my brain and not my heart right now. I think...I think after we drop Braeburn off in Appleloosa...I think I need to disappear for a while. Give myself time to see if I really do feel that way, I guess."

"Makes sense," he agreed with a slight nod. "If you're away from him and still feel this way, then you'll know for sure. And I don't think you need to be away just because of that stallion, but also to see who you are."

"What?"

"You need to learn that the world's problems aren't your fault," he said. "You've been through so much in your lifetime already, and you've never been able to take the time to really find out who you are. You may think you already know that now, but sometimes we need a new perspective to figure these things out. I don't care where you want to go; I'll get you there. I just want to see you happy again, Daring."

Her godfather suddenly wrapped a hoof around her neck, pulling the mare into a hug. "I may not be your father, but I love you like a daughter, kiddo. And I know that your parents would be more than proud to see the mare that they raised become such a beautiful, intelligent pony."

Daring bit her trembling lower lip as she hugged him back. "Thank you Art. I couldn't ask for a better godfather. I love you too."

The pegasus shoved the small wave of emotion aside as she let him go, casting a glance to the already-filled plaza ahead. To her surprise, Daring couldn't spot Braeburn anywhere amoungst the small sea of ponies. She smiled, imagining the bewildered look on the farmer's face in the midst of such a vastly-different culture.

"Well I guess you'd better get going. Does the curator know you're coming?" asked Artemis.

"No. I figured that I'd just pop in and throw her off her equilibrium bright and early," she replied, elated to hear a small chuckle in her own voice again.

"Heh, well that will do it," he smiled back. "Now go on, get out of here and get this done. I don't want to be here all day."

"Fine, fine. Sheesh," Daring scoffed mockingly, turning to walk away. But before she stepped off the station's platform, she turned her head back to the gray earth pony. "Art...did you really mean what you said about Braeburn? Do you really think he..."

Artemis snorted. "What do you think, Daring?"

To Braeburn's knowledge, there were two kinds of strange; the good and the bad. Canterlot, somehow, seemed like both varieties. The city was simply...different, in every possible way. The streets were heavy with early-morning hoof-traffic, everypony clamoring to arrive at their destination as soon as they could, as if the day was simply not long enough for them. Cheery, as well as disgruntled voices of all ages filled the plaza. Everypony wore some sort of garment, whether it be a full tuxedo or even something as simple as a scarf and hat. Their hooves were perfectly manicured, and their coats were sleek and shining with immaculate cleanliness. They seemed to emanate varying scents of colognes and perfumes. But their own synthetic fumes didn't mask Braeburn's rather unsavory aroma. Unfortunately for him, the earth pony hadn't been able to bathe himself after trekking through Cunning's tomb. The place had marked him with a few scents, the most prominent being the stagnant water they had fallen into. A few of the Canterlot ponies gave him sidelong glares once they got too close. Braeburn avoided their gazes, feeling more and more out of place by the second.

Instead of wandering around in the midst of judgmental ponies, the beige stallion found a bench on the edge of the cobblestone square, where nopony seemed to venture. It stood in front of a rather colorful sweet shop, its large front windows filled with a veritable spectrum of candies and signs. To his surprise, it was actually open despite the early hour. As he sat down upon the bench, he looked around to find that a vast majority of the stores were already open for business as well. The city was truly a busy place, that much was evident. All of the sounds and sights were slightly overwhelming, and this area seemed to be just the tip of the iceberg. Braeburn shifted uncomfortably atop the bench, sitting on his haunches and tapping a forehoof to the brightly-stained wood. He felt strangely vulnerable out here; in the polar opposite of his element. The only true pleasure he could extrapolate from the Northern metropolis was the cool mountain air. The calmest of breezes blew through the streets, rustling his filthy mane and bringing him a brief sense of relief.

He soon found that the city had turned towards the bad sort of strange. There had only been very seldom instances where Braeburn left the simple land of the West, but never had he ventured into a place quite like this. He felt nervous and even a little apprehensive; as if somepony were about to emerge from the alleyway and take him out of commission right there. At that phobic thought, the stallion cast a quick glance to the closest gap between the buildings behind him, letting out a sigh of relief when his fears were quelled. Perhaps it wasn't the best idea to venture off without Daring. Just having her there by his side had always made him feel more confident and at ease. This was possibly the worst time for her to leave him alone. Braeburn forced himself to breathe slower as he closed his eyes. It took a minute, but eventually he was able to calm down. He hoped that they wouldn't be in Canterlot for too long. If they were, he wasn't sure how long it would be until he were to suffer through another panic attack.

Braeburn lifted his head at the sound of familiar hoofsteps to find a dark-yellow mare in a black cloak, shielding her wings and cutie mark from view. He didn't put much thought into her somber expression, nor the fact that she still wasn't looking him in the eye. The stallion was just relieved to have a friend nearby again. "There ya' are!"

Daring curiously traced his face with her eyes. "Whoa. Are you feeling alright? You're looking pretty pale."

Not to mention light-headed, he thought. "It's just really loud and...crowded and..."

"When was the last time you left the desert, Brae?" she smirked, although it did seem a little forced. Maybe she was just tired. "It's just a little culture shock, don't worry. Now come on..."

She pushed him forcibly off the bench with her head, and he reluctantly complied. She even checked his bags to make sure the black box was still there before throwing it on his back. Without another word, Daring started to walk through the small sea of ponies. Even if there was something wrong with her, Braeburn wouldn't be able to bring it up here, not with all of the eyes and ears around. Instead he simply drove on, his gaze unintentionally fixated on three shades of gray.

Gigantic was a word that a simple farmpony would never find himself using. The same went for colossal, or even divine. But those three words were all that Braeburn could think of to describe the walls around him. As if the outside of the gargantuan building wasn't large or finely-crafted enough, the interior was simply breathtaking. The foyer itself seemed larger than anything he had ever seen. The walls were made of some kind of white, pearly stone, lined corner to corner with tall half-pillars. He realized where Daring had found her fondness for dark-reds, for the place had resembled her personal train car. On either side of every tall stained-glass window were a pair of maroon tapestries, emblazoned in gold with the letters: C.M.N.H. The multicolored glass cast varying hues of light down upon the lavish exhibits, filling the museum with an uplifting air. Despite the emptiness of the building before its business hours, it was already teeming with life.

Between the two ponies and the vast staircase ahead, numerous cases and displays were organized to fill the foyer, while still allowing a large amount of movement. There were exhibits of all kinds right up front, more than likely to intrigue any newcomers into exploring the rest of the museum's clearly-enormous collection. Braeburn felt an odd sort of pride that he was about to help contribute quite possibly one of the most ground-breaking finds in recent history. To think, something that he and Daring Do found was about to be in the most prestigious collection of artifacts in Equestria. Not only that, but he, Braeburn Apple, was tied to the item. Or rather, items.

He followed the archaeologist down the middle of the foyer, reveling in the comfort that the soft red carpet provided on his hooves. Thankfully the stationed security guard had recognized Daring and allowed them entry before business hours, for Braeburn wasn't exactly adamant on waiting outside until midday. Somehow the pegasus was sure that the curator was already here. He didn't ask why, simply because she didn't seem to be in the greatest of moods. He couldn't imagine why. Their journey was over, and now they were about to reap the benefits of their labor. Well, Braeburn was, anyway. Perhaps there was more he could do for her after their trip to Ponyville. She hadn't asked about it since he mentioned it the day before, thankfully. He didn't want to have the surprise ruined, after all.

"Ugh, we smell something awful," she murmured, just loud enough for him to hear. "A bath would be amazing right now."

"Couldn't agree more," he replied, eager to start any sort of conversation. "So hold on, what's the plan after we leave here?"

The question forced Daring to stop once they reached the top of the wide, red and white staircase. "Um...well...I dunno, really." At this point, nopony would confuse her sorrowful look for fatigue anymore. There was something on her mind, and it looked to be tearing her apart from the inside. What had she and Artemis talked about to drag her down so much? He couldn't think of anything that could make her so somber and apathetic at such a seemingly-joyous occasion. Instead of voicing his worry, he merely tilted his head at her, asking without words.

"Nothing's wrong Brae," she said rather quickly, with a dash of defensiveness.

"Ah didn't ask if there was," he said matter-of-factly. "Look, ya' don't have to tell me. Obviously it was somethin' between you and yer godfather, and that's none o' my business. Ah just wanna know where we're goin' after this."

"O-Oh..." she said quietly, still not looking at his face. "Well, as it turns out, I-"

But before she could continue her sentence, a door to her right burst open. The two off them flinched violently, their wide eyes upon the gaping barrel of a long rifle. Braeburn immediately threw his forehooves into the air, sitting on his haunches and trying to be as nonthreatening as possible. Daring, however, disregarded any sort of danger and merely swatted the gun aside, grinning at the new pony. "So paranoid, Minerva. Sheesh."

The mare named Minerva was of an older generation, possibly almost Bullet Tyme's age. However, she didn't seem to let time be her enemy. The earth pony had a coat of incredibly dark red, almost brown. Her mane and tail were a steely-gray, almost matching her dull-hued iris'. She had styled her mane in a rather neat bun on the back of her head, appropriately accompanying the tiny spectacles that balanced on the bridge of her nose. Around her torso was a formal black vest and bow-tie, a golden chain slung from the front pocket, presumably holding a watch of some kind. Her flanks were adorned with an opened book, a thin length of ribbon waving precariously through its pages.

"My word Daring Do! Could you at least write me a letter telling me that you're going to be breaking into my museum next time?" the curator huffed, disengaging the shotgun. Her words were articulated and only slightly accented in a manner that Braeburn failed to recognize.

"But that would make my visits thought-out and organized, and we can't have that," Daring mused. Minerva only scowled in response, turning her gaze to Braeburn. He exhaled a breath of relief, doing his best to look unassuming.

"And who is this?" she asked, her tone lightening into something less agitated.

"Braeburn, ma'am," he replied, offering a polite hoof as he removed his hat with the other. Minerva shook it lightly, answering with a kind smile.

"Such manners," she commented brightly, turning to Daring. "Where'd you find such a gentlecolt, Daring? Not from around here, I imagine."

"He's a friend from Appleloosa," she answered. "He helped me find my newest contribution to the museum, actually."

Minerva's eyes brightened at that. "Really now, is that why you're here? Well then, let us retire to my office!"

The maroon earth pony gestured to the threshold behind her, allowing the two of them to pass through. Minerva closed the door behind them as Braeburn looked around the large room. Unsurprisingly, it resembled Daring's apartment in Dodge Junction. A plethora of presumably-valuable items and trinkets lined the walls, as well as a collection of framed certificates and diplomas behind the enormous mahogany desk. There were no windows, so illumination was provided by a bright chandelier hanging delicately from the high ceiling. Daring and Braeburn sat upon a long black couch in front of the curator's desk. The stallion rested the heavy bag atop the dark wood, resting back on his haunches and waiting for somepony to speak.

"So what do you have for me now Daring? I must say, it's been quite a while since your last visit, so it must have been a real bother acquiring whatever it is," said Minerva, her eyes fixed on the bag.

Daring seemed to regain her snark at that. She grinned triumphantly, as if she had just won the lottery. "This isn't just another artifact Minnie; this is something that will bring in ponies from every corner of the country, perhaps even the world. Tell me, have you ever heard the tales of Cunning the Colt?"

Minerva did well in masking her excitement, up until the infamous name had been uttered. Her eyes bulged out of their wrinkled sockets, and her lips parted slightly in shock. "W-Wait...but that's just a simple Western tale! Y-You didn't...you couldn't have..."

Daring's grin only brightened. "Chuh! A tale she says! Have you not met me? Not only is Cunning more than just folklore, but I have soooo much proof that he actually existed. Exhibit A: the contents of that bag. Exhibit B: the stallion sitting next to me."

The curator cocked an eyebrow, her gaze flickering between Braeburn and the satchel upon her desk. "Alright, you're going to have to elaborate, Miss Do."

With only the slightest air of cockiness, Daring recalled the entire story of their expedition, even the parts where Braeburn hadn't been present. She told her how her team had left with their skepticism, how they discovered the treasure, and everything in between. The look on Minerva's face was that of a filly listening to possibly the most interesting bedtime story of them all. Braeburn wouldn't have been surprised if the curator had clutched a pillow in her hooves while she listened. "...and come to find out, Braeburn's rifle was actually Cunning's personal Marechester! You wouldn't believe the tomb he built to guard his treasure; it nearly killed us! I plan to have my team regroup and study every nook and cranny of that place until every detail is properly documented and turned in to you. But for now, I think the treasure will suffice."

Minerva sat in her high chair, utterly flabbergasted. "That was...quite possibly the single greatest piece of news you could have brought to me. This is amazing! Daring, I don't think you realize just how huge this is. Finding proof of his existence is one thing, but unearthing a tomb, personal belongings, and proof of his lineage all in three days? That is nothing short of extraordinary! That..." Minerva turned to Braeburn. "...and you discover Cunning the Colt's descendant? We should be putting you in a case Mister Apple! I joke of course, but still..."

"Are you gonna gush all day, or are you going to see what's in that bag?" Daring smirked, disregarding the slew of compliments. Almost immediately, the curator took the key from Daring and retrieved the small, black box from its bag. She unlocked its binds, throwing them aside before carefully opening the metal lid. She wore the same look that Braeburn had when he first gazed upon the treasure, and he smiled in response.

"Dear Celestia," she gasped. Minerva quickly retrieved a pair of thin rubber gloves from a desk drawer, slipping them onto her forehooves before wearily withdrawing one of the hundreds of ancient gold coins. She held it between her hooves, squinting through her small glasses at the perfectly-preserved bit. "These are at least three or four-hundred years old! Getting the exact date would take some careful study, but impressive nonetheless! However...the gold doesn't seem to be the big-ticket item here..."

The curator replaced the coin back into the box with the rest before picking up a small, hardcover tome between her forehooves. The edges of its bindings were deservedly-worn, but otherwise the book was kept in remarkable shape. Upon the dark-brown cover were the letters: C.T.C., written in a silvery hue of writing. Minerva carefully flipped through the ancient pages, her eyes darting around the perfectly-uniformed writing. "This is...this is a journal! There are dates, places, this and that...it looks as if his entire adult life is depicted in this book!"

"And I'm going to need a word-for-word copy of that," Daring commented dryly. "Never got around to reading a page of it. I'm also pretty sure that Braeburn would like a copy as well. Cunning was his ancestor, after all."

"Ah think that'd be just dandy," he replied. Braeburn may not have been the biggest fan of Cunning's lifestyle, but that didn't mean he wasn't interested.

"But of course!" Minerva exclaimed. "I simply cannot believe any of this. What I can believe, is that I'm signing a very large check today."

"Not in my name," Daring said dryly, gesturing to the stallion next to her. "The only name I wanna see on that check is Braeburn Apple."

The curator's eyes snapped up and away from the journal, switching between the two in front of her. "E-Excuse me?"

"We had a deal," she said as plain as day. "And I'm holding up my end of it."

At a loss for words in the midst of slight guilt, Braeburn only smiled meekly at the confounded earth pony.

"It's for a very good cause: restoring an honest, hardworking family business," Daring assured.

"Be that as it may," Minerva breathed. "but the Board is going to want to pay a fortune for this. I'm just disappointed that the Marechester won't be included in this amazing collection."

"Ah'm a mite sorry fer that," Braeburn replied sincerely. "but Thumper stays in the family with me."

"Well I guess that's where it belongs, if you truly inherited Cunning's innate rifle prowess like Daring says you do," she said with a kind smile. "But if you ever change your mind-"

"Minnie, come on now," Daring interrupted flatly, extinguishing her suggestion outright.

"Okay, okay. But there is one more thing we need to discuss," said Minerva, closing the box in front of her. "Daring, I understand your natural attraction to remaining anonymous, but this is the discovery of a lifetime. I must insist that you take responsibility for this. There is no better way to reveal yourself to the world than this."

"Minerva, you know I-"

"Do it."

Daring Do stopped dead, turning her head to Braeburn. He looked her right in the eye, unblinking and unwavering. "What?"

"You heard me," he said matter-of-factly. "Ah think it's high-time you showed the world that yer a real pony. You've done nothin' but hide fer no good reason, livin' in secrecy. Ah know why ya' have, but those reasons have all but expired at this point. Don't ask why no more; ask why not."

The dark-yellow mare just stared at him, looking directly into his eyes as if to extrapolate some sort of ulterior motive from his words. "But what if I-"

"Ah'll do it if you do it."

"What?"

"If you reveal yerself to the world, Ah'll let the paper's know of my heritage also," Braeburn stated, although not without a grin. "Ya' know how much Ah hate the kind o' pony my ancestor was, but that doesn't stop him from bein' a part o' my family. If ya' take credit fer just this one find, then Ah will too."

"But then my name will be attached to everything else I've found Brae!" she exclaimed, her tone almost desperate.

"Psh, so what? Good fer you then! Ah know yer not fer the whole 'name in lights' bit, but Ah think this will help you."

He enunciated the last two words to convey his meaning, without revealing it to the other pony in the office. Thankfully, Daring seemed to grasp the hint, for she looked away from him and to the box between them and the curator. Minerva waited patiently as the pegasus contemplated his words.

"I guess..." she started quietly. "...I guess it is time. Alright Braeburn, you got yourself a deal."

To his surprise, she even looked him in the eye as she bumped his hoof with her own. For the first time that day, she actually wore a sincere smile.

"Well good," came the curator's voice. They both turned to find her with an ink-dipped quill in her mouth, writing something quick on a small notepad. When she was done, Minerva tore out the page and slid it face-down across the dark mahogany to Braeburn. "This is my offer for not just this box and its story, but also for your hard work, as well as getting Daring here to finally come out of her shell. I think you may find it very enticing."

Braeburn exhaled a nervous breath, taking the note into his hooves. He had no idea exactly how much money it would take to return the farm to a profitable state, but he could gather that Minerva's offer was far beyond what was necessary. The stallion felt as if he were about to faint right there on the spot at the sight of perhaps too many zeros. His jaw dropped and his eyes flew open. "What in the hay?!" he exclaimed. "Ah'm sorry ma'am, but this can't be right."

"Oh, it is," she reassured calmly. "I've taken a lot into consideration about that offer. You're not going to receive a bit less than that. I don't want any other museum making a higher offer, after all."

This was insane. It couldn't have been true. He had originally thought that museums merely accepted donations, but perhaps cases such as this were an exception. But still, this was money a pony his age could retire on. How could he take every bit without feeling as if he were stealing from the mare who actually did the research needed to make any of the past three days possible? There was no question about it anymore; he needed to find something to repay her with. However, that was a matter for the future, not now.

"Ah...Ah don't know what to say," he breathed, looking to Daring, whom only smiled in response. "But...thank you."

The tub of hot water was like Heaven to the spent pegasus. She closed her eyes and let the steaming bliss slow her racing mind down. The mare dipped herself lower and lower into the suds until her entire body was submerged, save for the upper portion of her muzzle and head. Out of nothing but sheer foalishness, Daring blew a raspberry underwater, resulting in an eruption of bubbles to rise to the surface.

But her amusement didn't last long. The only sound that filled the bathroom was the running water of the shower stall a mere yard away. She couldn't see past the drawn curtain, and therefore couldn't see the stallion inside. He had been silent the entire way back to Dodge Junction, and only spoke a few words upon their arrival to her home. His expression hadn't been somber or sad, but something else entirely. The mare couldn't put a hoof on it, but his lack of speech was somehow worrying. Daring hadn't said a word either, but for reasons she was all too aware of. She couldn't explain Braeburn's dilemma, considering the enormous amount of money he had received that morning.

"Hey, you alive in there?" she asked, more to test his reaction than anything.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Ah'm fine," he answered, although halfheartedly.

"What's wrong with you?"

"Ah could ask ya' the same question," he chuckled. "But Ah guess all o' this is just a little unreal to me. Ah'm just...grateful. Really grateful, and Ah just don't know how Ah can repay ya'."

Daring found no answer to that. The only thing she could extrapolate from his answer was an odd sort of dread that she didn't recognize.

"We were really in a heap o' trouble, ya' know," he continued. "We were actually thinkin' 'bout selling the farm. Things hadn't been that bad since...well, ever. Ah didn't know what Ah could'a done to save it, and fer a minute there, Ah lost all hope."

His sudden willingness to voice his thoughts wasn't what took her off-guard; it was the thoughts themselves. His words hit her like a brick wall of emotion, carrying more weight than they should have. Daring cringed as she felt the dread creep along her spine, a ball of ice dropping into her stomach.

Oh no...Don't say it...

"Then...you walked into my door, and made me believe again. Not only did Ah believe in friendship again...Ah found faith in miracles too. Stupid Ah guess, but in my position, what else can ya' call it?"

Stop it Brae, just stop it...

"Ah bet Ah sound like a silly little foal, talkin' 'bout miracles and nonsense like that. But coincidence just doesn't seem to add up to me. Ah mean, what're the odds of you, of all ponies, walkin' up to my doorstep and givin' me this opportunity, right when Ah needed it the most?"

Why are you still talking? Don't you realize that you're killing me here?

Thankfully, she only had to endure so much pain. From the living room came the sound of a hoof rapping on the door, freeing her from the emotional torture. It didn't matter if she was forced to exit the comfort of the hot water, as long as her chest wasn't in so much pain anymore. "I guess I should get that."

"Oh, well, Ah'll be here Ah guess."

With a groan, Daring lifted herself out of the wooden tub and onto the bath mat, drying herself off with a towel from the rack. She flicked her wings off a few times for good measure, ignoring the impatient knocks from the other room. The mare called out her awareness of the visitor's presence, asking for a moment of patience. The pegasus was already dry, so that wasn't the issue. The issue was her hesitance, and her uncertainty of how to respond to the stallion's kind words of gratitude. She knew what her heart was saying, but that wasn't exactly a trusted source at the moment. No, she had to stick to the plan. She couldn't let her confusion override objectivity.

"Brae?" she spoke weakly.

"Yeah?"

"I just...thank you, for what you said. It means a lot to me," Daring answered, doing her best to ignore the silly little smile playing on her lips. Before he could reply, the pegasus forced herself to leave the bathroom, unable to take a single look back. She emerged into the living room, taking her sweet time to approach the threshold. Daring gathered her composure, and slowly opened the door.

Standing much taller than herself, was a grim-looking earth stallion with a coat the color of sand. His dark-gray mane was tied back in a tight tail, revealing every inch of his gaunt face, shadowed under his flat-brimmed cowpony hat. It took a moment for Daring to recognize the middle-aged stallion, as well as the orange mare standing alongside him.

"Oh! Bullet...hello sir," she stammered, wondering what in Equestria Braeburn's family was doing here. "And hello Applejack."

The other mare gave a polite smile, although it looked somewhat forced. Bullet Tyme, however, gave no such expression.

"We've been lookin' fer ya'," he said in a gruff tone, his voice haggard. "May we come in?"

"Of...Of course!" Daring said, gesturing for them to come inside. Normally the fearless archaeologist had no problem dealing with abrasive ponies, but in her current emotional state, Daring felt easily intimidated by the tall stallion.

The two of them walked in silently, and Daring closed the door behind them. "Braeburn's actually in the shower right now, but he'll be out in a minute. You can sit wherever you want-"

"Is he alright?" Bullet interrupted, his tone flat, although not without the slightest hint of concern. Daring felt her eye twitch. Did they know something?

"Yeah, he's completely fine. Why do you ask?"

"Ah saw the paper yesterday," he replied, neither him nor Applejack sitting down despite her offer. "Ah know that my boy has been messin' 'round dangerous ponies here in Dodge, and Ah wanna know why."

He spoke as if Daring herself had done something wrong, like she was his foalsitter. She was only momentarily surprised that the newspaper had published Braeburn's acts of heroism, before her mind processed the information objectively. Of course they would, the event was probably the biggest thing to happen in the small town for years. But what had been reported? Just the shoot out with Sure Shot, or that as well as the fight at Final Chance? All in all, it didn't really matter. It wasn't exactly a secret, and Bullet Tyme deserved to know what his son had done for the town. Braeburn hadn't done anything wrong, in fact, he did quite the opposite. Daring was sure that he wouldn't mind his father knowing about it...or at least, she thought she was sure.

"Oh, I didn't know that got in the paper. We've been pretty busy, you see," she said with a nervous smile. "It's a story you'll really wanna hear. But I can go get him, if you want."

"S'alright, Miss Do. As long as he's not hurt or nothin', then Ah'm happy," he said, losing his abrasive tone with every word. Thankfully, Bullet seemed to relax knowing that his son was alive and well. "But Ah wouldn't mind hearin' 'bout this little adventure you two are on. AJ here told me some vague things about what you two were doin', but not the whole thing, Ah reckon."

"I see," she exhaled. "Well maybe we should sit, it's kind of a long story."

Braeburn let his head fall against the wall of the shower once again, allowing his muddled mind to finally relax under the heavy water pressure. He had already finished bathing himself, but the stallion felt no desire to exit the stall. After the past few days, all he wanted to do was relax. He heard a couple extra voices from the other room, but made no attempt to figure out who they were, or even take a guess. It simply didn't matter to him at this point. His journey had come to an end, and he had a small fortune to revive the farm with. To him, all was well with the world. Well, except for his excessive curiosity.

What was making Daring Do so somber and passive? He guessed that it had nothing to do with the money. Perhaps it was simply the private conversation she had with Artemis. Did Braeburn do something wrong? Was he the topic that made her so sad? He couldn't imagine that to be a viable cause for her evident pain, but he had no other theories as to why. Something had changed in her since Canterlot, and he was dying to know what. But he had to admit, she wasn't the only one feeling different. Somehow her pain felt like his own, as if whatever was hurting her was something that could hurt him, that would cause him similar emotional harm.

There ya' go Braeburn, dwelling on other ponies' problems again. She's fine, you're fine, everything's fine!

But what if it's not?

It's fine. She'll come around eventually. It can't be 'bout you, so don't worry 'bout it.

Right...Ah'll just take her to Ponyville to meet AJ's friend. Maybe then Daring will feel better.

But the throb in his chest was still there. Worrying was one thing, but this was something else entirely. It was a feeling he had never experienced, and it was strong enough to frighten him even. Was there something wrong with him?

"That's it," he muttered, rising to his hooves and shutting off the water. He looked down to the floor of the stall to find a slight tinge of light red in the draining water. The stallion groaned when he saw that the cut on his back had opened again. He opened the shower curtain and carefully dried off with a clean towel. Next to the tub were his bags and hat. He rummaged through them to find the small roll of gauze that remained after their numerous injuries. It took a few minutes, but eventually he was able to crane his neck and stretch far enough to wrap the bandaging around the thin slice on his back. He couldn't tell what kind of job he'd done, but hoped that it would at least hold back another flow of blood.

Now that the shower hadn't been running, his ears were free to prick up at the sounds of the voices in the other room. They were clear with the lack of white noise, and Braeburn instantly recognized the gruff tones of an older stallion. A block of ice fell into his stomach at the sound of his father's voice. What was he doing in Dodge Junction? Did he come by to scold him? However, Bullet Tyme's inaudible words didn't sound angry, or even agitated. In fact, his father sounded...happy. Perhaps Daring was telling him of what happened, and that the whole plan didn't sound like some kind of blinded scheme as Bullet had previously thought. Suddenly Braeburn's chest loosened, and he was no longer apprehensive about emerging into the living room.

Braeburn donned his freshly-cleaned hat and vest, and opened the door. As he expected, Daring and Bullet Tyme were sitting across from each other upon the opposing couches. What he didn't expect, was to see Applejack sitting next to his father. Regardless of the older stallion's seemingly-uplifting tones, Braeburn felt himself shrink when Bullet Tyme laid eyes on him. But before anypony could say a word, Bullet stepped down from the couch and walked over to him, his expression unreadable. Without a single word or glance, the stallion wrapped a single foreleg around his son, pulling him into a tight embrace. "Don't worry boy, Daring told us everything. Ah'm sorry that Ah didn't believe ya'. You were just trying to save the farm, and ya' did it. Ah couldn't be more proud o' ya' son."

Braeburn could only stand there in shock, his face dumbstruck and his eyes unfocused. From his peripheral vision, he could clearly see Applejack and Daring Do smiling at the father and son. He expected scolding, a silent treatment, anything but this. But what struck him the most was the word 'proud.' Bullet had said it with meaning, true meaning, something seldom heard from the gruff stallion. The beige earth pony could only return the embrace with a single foreleg, thanking his father quietly.

"And...yer not sore 'bout Cunning bein'...ya' know, our ancestor?" he asked once his father let him go.

"Well Ah'm not too keen on it, but it sure explains a whole lot," he chuckled, to which Braeburn joined in. "If he's the reason that you were a good enough shooter to take out the most feared bandit in the West, then Ah can't complain."

"Even if ya' were foolhardy enough to be there in the first place," jeered Applejack from the couch.

"Kinda teetering on that thin line between that and bravery," Daring joined in, instilling a short laugh from the two mares.

"Yer the one that told me to shoot!"

"I didn't say who was the one teetering," the pegasus admitted with a smirk. She seemed to be having an easier time now that there were other ponies around, for her eyes were no longer filled with an unidentifiable sorrow. Instead, her smiles were almost as bright as they used to be. Regardless, Braeburn didn't speculate. Applejack, however, seemed to be switching her gaze between him and Daring as covertly as possible. After she noticed his attention to her shifting eyes, she said:

"Oh, and Daring, there may have been somethin' Ah neglected to mention."

Daring cocked an unsure eyebrow. "Oh? What about?"

Braeburn and Bullet Tyme exchanged a nod, and walked over to the opposing couches. The older stallion returned to his seat next to the orange mare, while his son sat aside Daring. Braeburn just then noticed the only item on the coffee table between them: Thumper. He cringed at the sight of the damaged front stock, as well as the shallow gouge on the barrel. He cast a brief glance to his father, whom only wore a look that clearly said: 'Don't worry about it.'

"Well," Applejack continued. "There uh...there might be a unicorn in Ponyville that...well, knows 'bout ya'."

"Oh, there's going to be a lot more ponies that will know about me soon," Daring said. "Tomorrow's newspaper is going to be headlined with our findings, and Braeburn convinced me to...well, reveal myself. Both of our names are going to be on the front page, and I imagine some pony will do the research to find out exactly who I am and why I'm a real archaeologist."

"Really? Well that sure is somethin' Rain-"

Braeburn cut her off mid-sentence with a quick shake of his head. Thankfully, his cousin took notice, stumbling on her own words as she formed an improvisation. "...Rain, uh...that sure is somethin' my good ol' pal...Rain Water would like to hear! She's a heeyuuge fan o' the books!"

Braeburn cast her a less-than-facetious scowl. That was the best she could come up with?

"Rain Water? That's an odd name," Daring noted. "But I guess I'd better get used the idea of ponies knowing who I am again."

For lack of an answer to her comment, Applejack merely nodded with a nervous grin. Fortunately, Daring simply let it go at that.

The four ponies delved into conversation for an unknown amount of time after that. Bullet Tyme and Applejack were highly inquisitive about every last detail of their journey, especially of the bar fight at Final Chance. They spoke of their quest, as well as how work on the farm had been for the past three days. Applejack was kind enough to remain referring to her prismatic friend as Rain Water, with little help from her uncle. The older stallion almost let the secret out, until the orange mare gave him an unseen hit to the shoulder while Daring wasn't looking. Braeburn was grateful, for he didn't want the surprise to be ruined. After all, letting Daring meet her high-flying idol was the absolute least he could do for what she had done for him. He just hoped that word didn't get to Ponyville before they arrived.

At one point, the archaeologist had left the room, allowing Braeburn to silently voice his intentions to his family. They agreed immediately, having known of the small fortune that the pegasus had bestowed upon their family business.

Eventually she returned, and Braeburn brought up a new topic: "So Daring, remember how Ah said that we had to go to Ponyville at some point?"

The pegasus returned to her seat next to him on the couch, her left eyebrow raised slightly. "Um...oh yeah, that's right. Are you gonna tell me what's there or not?"

"Nope," he grinned. "It's a surprise, fer you."

"A surprise?" she asked incredulously.

"Sure is!" Applejack perked up. "After what ya' did fer our family, we'd like to return the favor!"

"Oh, that's alright. I appreciate it, but Brae and I had a deal, and we both-"

"Well look at the time," Bullet interjected, nodding to the grandfather clock in the corner. "It looks like the only train headed to Ponyville is about to leave! Daring, get yer things together as quick as ya' can, 'cause we're all goin'!"

"But-"

"You heard him! Now or never!" Braeburn assisted, catching his father's game. Ignoring the mare's words of protest, he shoved her across the floor and into her bedroom, shutting the door between them. "We ain't got much time! Pack yer things and get ready as quick as ya' can!"

"I didn't agree to any of this!" came her voice from the other side of the door.

"We're doin' it for you!" he replied, chuckling silently as his family did the same. He looked to his father and dropped the volume of his voice: "Is the train really leaving that quickly?"

"Pfft, naw," he smiled. "But Ah didn't wanna give her the chance to decline. She deserves at least this."

"Agreed. Ah hope we get there before-GAH!"

Applejack was interrupted by a small burst of green flame, erupting inches away from her face. Before anypony could react further, they were relieved to see a scroll of parchment drop in front of the orange mare, bound by a violet ribbon. "Oh, it's just a letter from Twilight."

"Is that some sorta magic?" asked Braeburn.

"Kinda. She has a baby dragon fer an assistant. Ah guess it's somethin' they can do. Ah never really asked about it," she explained as she unraveled the letter before reading it aloud: "Dear Applejack, sorry I couldn't get this letter to you sooner, I've been busy cleaning up a mess that Spike made in the library. Perhaps I shouldn't leave him alone when I leave town. Anyway, I just wanted to let you know we got home safely. Rainbow wouldn't stop asking me what happened while she was asleep, but don't worry, I kept it vague. I hope you're okay, and that Braeburn and Daring are too. I hope to hear back from you! Like I said before, I enchanted this letter with a return spell. After you're done writing, roll it back up and tap it three consecutive times with your hoof, and it will be sent back to me as if Spike delivered it himself. Sincerely, Twilight Sparkle."

"Well that's convenient as all heck," Braeburn noted, returning back to the couch across from them. "Write back right now, and tell her 'bout the whole thing. Tell her not to let yer rainbow friend read any newspapers and to have her meet us at Sweet Apple Acres when we get to Ponyville. If we take the train now, we should get there by dawn."

"Hold yer horses cousin," Applejack retorted, scrambling around the room to find a quill and an inkwell on a small desk next to the grandfather clock. She sat back down, writing her reply as fast as she could. When she finished, she had just enough time to roll the parchment and send it on its way as Twilight had instructed. Once the scroll disappeared in another flash of green flame, Daring returned from her bedroom with a small satchel on her back.

"What's all the ruckus in here?" she asked.

"Nothin'!" Braeburn exclaimed, motioning for everypony to gather their belongings and prepare to leave. "Just gettin' ready is all!"

"And nopony is going to tell me-"

"Nope! Let's go!"

The next morning Braeburn awoke to the wail of a train whistle. After a second night of sleeping on a train, his spine was starting to feel incredibly sore. He found himself twisted upon the uncomfortable wooden bench, wishing that they were able to take Artemis' train instead. Unfortunately, the conductor had other ponies to tend to, and not just them. Braeburn groaned as he forced himself into a sitting position, his eyes still closed. He felt a warm weight against his shoulder, moving ever-so-slightly. In his exhausted state of mind, the stallion didn't cast a thought to the source of the warmth, but merely rested his face in his forehooves. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, finally cracking them open to find his surroundings dimly-lit and somewhat cold compared to the recent heatwave. His brain lulled itself into an exhausted stupor as he let his head fall to the makeshift pillow once again. The warmth seemed to follow him, and the stallion smiled in content.

"Well that's a sight to wake up to."

Braeburn's eyes flew open. He knew the voice, but he expected it to belong to the body leaning against him. Instead, the voice came from across the aisle of the train car. Braeburn craned his neck around to find a mass of orange draped across him, rising and falling with the slightest of snores.

"Ugh! Darn it AJ," he grunted, slouching out from under his cousin. As her cheek collided with the wooden bench, the orange mare awoke with a fright, looking around the cabin with wide eyes. From the other side of the car, Daring burst into a fit of giggles, covering her mouth with a hoof.

"What's goin' on? Did somethin' happen?" Applejack asked quickly, still half-asleep.

Braeburn didn't answer, but instead shivered in disgust, shaking his head a few times as if it would rid the event from his memory. The pegasus across from them could no longer contain her laughter, and fell into another fit on her back.

"Cousin, next time sleep on the other side of the train," he grumbled.

"What're ya' talkin' 'bout?" she asked, sincerely unaware.

"Just...ugh," he replied, ignoring Daring's laughter and walking to the other side of the cabin.

Outside the dirty windows, the sun was only starting to rise over the small town around them. He had only been there once before, but the colorful buildings and the enormous mountain range were unmistakable. The small Northern town felt nothing like the scorching West. The air was cool and comfortable, making it enjoyable to be outdoors. At the other end of the cabin, the wide doors slid open, allowing a light morning breeze to flow through. Ponyville was still asleep, save for the occasional passersby near the small train station. Braeburn allowed himself a breath of relaxation. Here, his name and face were unknown. Here, he wasn't the stallion who, although only technically, defeated Sure Shot. He knew that his anonymity would only last a day or two, but he planned to enjoy every second of it.

Behind him, Daring and Applejack were gathering their belongings, throwing their bags over their backs. The orange mare was the first to depart the train car, yawning as she stepped onto the platform along with a dozen other ponies from the rest of the train. Braeburn had none of his own bags to carry, just the vest around his torso and the hat on his head. He had left Thumper with his father along with the check that Minerva had signed for him. All that Braeburn took was a small bag of coins, which he kept in the inner pocket of his vest. He wasn't aware of just how long he would stay in Ponyville, but knew that Daring would leave by the end of the day, perhaps earlier. She didn't say where, but Braeburn merely assumed that she meant back to her apartment in Dodge Junction. It wasn't a big deal, he would see her again soon. The archaeologist more than likely had other things to do now that their quest had been completed. Bullet allowed his son to bring her to Ponyville, with the condition that he returned the next day. He didn't say it as a father, but his employer. They had a lot of work to do, and a lot of money to spend. The farm wasn't going to bring itself back to life, after all.

"Are you gonna just stare out the window until the train leaves or what?"

Braeburn snapped out of his stupor to find Daring next to him. She didn't wear her shirt or hat, just the satchel over her back. Her foreleg was still wrapped in gauze, but the rest of her injuries had healed.

"Yeah, let's go."

Applejack led them through the empty town and into the forest, pacing down the dirt road that led to Ponyville's apple orchards. Braeburn kept his eyes open, searching for any sign of his cousin's prismatic friend. The mare led them not towards the large barn home, but to the South fields of the vast orchard. They didn't have to look long to find a violet unicorn mare sitting down under a tree. Her mane and tail were the deepest of purples, a single line of pink separating the shades. Braeburn took a moment to recognize her, but eventually remembered her as Twilight Sparkle, the mare that wrote the letter. She had her large eyes set on a book in front of her, levitated by an aura of violet magic. At the sound of their approaching hoofsteps, she looked up from her novel. Her eyes widened as she spotted the pegasus aside Braeburn, whom almost shrunk under her gaze.

"So it is true!" she exclaimed, dropping her book and galloping over to the three of them. The excited unicorn took Daring's uninjured hoof and shook it mercilessly, wearing a toothy grin all the while. "Oh this is amazing! Ever since Applejack told me about you, I couldn't wait to meet you!"

"Oh, well...thanks," said Daring, wearing a meek smile. "And...you are?"

"Oh, yes! I'm Twilight Sparkle, nopony really important," she said nervously, as if she were meeting the Princesses for the first time.

"Nopony important?" Applejack scoffed. "Daring, this is Princess Celestia's personal student. Don't undersell yerself Twi'."

Daring's eyes flew open. "Really? That's incredible! It's a pleasure to meet you Twilight."

This time it was the pegasus' turn to shake her hoof. She even bowed her head a little to the unicorn. Braeburn didn't mind that he was left out of the conversation. This visit wasn't for him, it was for Daring.

"Was this the surprise Brae? I never thought I'd meet one of the Princess' inner-circle."

"Oh! I apologize Braeburn," said Twilight, regarding the stallion. "It's good to see you again."

"You too," he replied, giving her a friendly smile. "But Ah have to ask, where's yer friend?"

"Yes, you're right," said Twilight, turning back to the confused-looking pegasus. "Daring, there's somepony that would love to meet you. And from what I'm told, you'd love to meet her as well."

Daring cocked an eyebrow. "Um...really?" She then turned back to Braeburn. "What did you do, Brae?"

Braeburn stifled a snicker. He couldn't wait to see her reaction to this. "Ah didn't do a thing."

"Go ahead and call her over here Twi'," said Applejack. "Hopefully she won't be asleep in a tree somewhere."

"Or in a cloud," the unicorn commented with a grin. Without another word, Twilight's horn burst into a bright, violet shade of magic. The light shot out and into the sky, exploding into a large display of crackling sparks high overhead. They waited as the simulated firework fizzled out, and even a moment after. Just before Braeburn started to doubt whether or not their friend had seen it, the faint sound of a speeding pegasus echoed over the orchard. Above the forest to the East came a cyan blur, its trail lined with every color of the rainbow. But before Daring could identify the pony, she landed at a long skid, sliding across the grass on her hooves a few yards behind Twilight. The pegasus had a messy mane bearing bright shades of six colors, her tail similarly-hued. Her eyes were the same shade of rose as Daring's, highlighting the subtle differences between the two pegasi. Showing bright against her sky-blue coat was a cutie mark of a cloud, erupting with a multicolored bolt of lightning.

The archaeologist next to Braeburn immediately recognized her idol, and her face could only be described as priceless. Her jaw looked as if it were on the verge of simply falling off her skull. Her eyes were wider than he ever thought possible. The other pegasus wasn't looking in their direction, but to Twilight and Applejack with her eyes half-closed. The cyan mare yawned heavily, not bothering to cover her mouth. "Ugh, so now can I ask why you had me wake up before sunri-"

But her sentence only lasted the briefest of moments, for her eyes had finally focused on the other pegasus. As if they hadn't already looked enough like each other, the blue mare's face practically mirrored Daring's. Braeburn, Twilight and Applejack couldn't do much to hold their snickers; the sight was simply too great.

"You!" Daring Do and Rainbow Dash exclaimed in perfect unison, their voices only a few octaves apart.

The cyan mare cocked her head back. "Me? Wait, hold on! Y-You're really a...Are you actually Daring Do?!"

"She sure is!" Braeburn grinned, giving the archaeologist a hit to the shoulder. "And she's yer biggest fan to boot!"

"Braeburn!" Daring hissed, her face flushing. She then turned back to bewildered Rainbow Dash. "Well, kind of, actually. I've heard of your flight prowess, and I've kinda...I've actually always wanted to meet you, especially after hearing that you achieved the Sonic Rainboom! Stunt Flying has been kind of a hobby of mine, and you've been sort of a...a role model for me."

If her previous expression wasn't priceless, her next one definitely was. "No way! The Daring Do...I...This is so cool!" she exclaimed, flying right over to Daring and shaking her hoof. "I can't believe you're actually real! Hey, I've got an idea! Did you wanna go for a quick fly? I can show you a bunch of cool moves if you want!"

Daring's eyes lit up. "Really? That'd be great!" she said, her voice cracking with elation. She turned back to Braeburn, her eyes filled with gratitude. He didn't say a word, but merely nodded his head toward the sky. She smiled in response, and the two pegasi immediately took off into the clouds above. Applejack barked out a laugh, holding a hoof over her mouth.

"My stars, Ah've never seen RD so giddy before!" she laughed. "It was like watchin' a filly meet the Wonderbolts or somethin'!"

Even Twilight uttered a quiet giggle, although she did a better job of hiding it. "I think that you've lost your marefriend Braeburn."

"Yeah, Ah...wait, what?" he stammered, taking his eyes off the sky to stare at Twilight.

"Daring," the unicorn clarified. "Your...oh! I'm sorry, I just assumed...well by the way she was looking at you I just thought you two were dating."

"What?" he chuckled nervously. "Me and Daring? That's just...wait. What did ya' mean by 'the way she was lookin' at me?'"

"Ya' didn't notice that?" asked Applejack incredulously, joining her unicorn friend to sit under the large apple tree. Braeburn sat next to his cousin, trying to extrapolate their meaning with a look. "Even when you and Ah first met Daring, she was lookin' at you like a foal at an apple pie. If that mare isn't sweet on ya', then Ah'm a danged griffon."

"See? It's not just me," Twilight commented.

"Now Ah don't know what yer talkin' 'bout cousin. She's just grateful! Can't two ponies just be friends without nothin' romantic happenin'?" he demanded as politely as he could.

Applejack only snorted. "Yeah, if they aren't you two. Ya' know what Ah saw last night on the train ride over here? After we both fell asleep, ya' woke me up with yer snorin'."

"Ah don't snore!"

"Cousin, let me talk," she said flatly. "Daring was still awake, and she didn't notice that Ah was too. If ya' saw how long she was just sittin' there staring at ya', then ya' wouldn't be arguin' with me right now. Ya' should've seen the look in her eyes, cousin. She just looked so...sad, but there was somethin' else. Just...fondness, Ah guess."

"Aww, really? That's adorable," Twilight noted, a small smile playing on her lips.

Braeburn, however, was speechless. He didn't need to ask if it was true or not, for the look on his cousin's face was confirmation enough. She wasn't lying. But did that really mean that Daring felt something for him? It didn't make sense. What had he done for her to look at him that way? To Braeburn's confusion, he felt his cheeks warm up with a swift flow of blood. He found himself pawing absentmindedly at the soft grass, rethinking his entire relationship with the archaeologist.

"Hey AJ, what do you think is redder; his cutie mark or his face?" Twilight grinned, instilling a chuckle from the both of them. Braeburn, however, didn't find the situation humorous at all. "But Braeburn...have you ever had a marefriend before?"

"No...Not at all," he answered, unembarrassed by the fact. "Ah never really had time fer it. Life's just been...well, work Ah guess."

"Well, how do you feel about Daring?" she asked, her voice warm and comforting despite her previous jibe.

That was truly a great question. Now that Applejack had mentioned the concept of the pegasus' possible affection, he had no idea. Now that their friendship had been questioned, the stallion was confused. He had never felt such an emotion before. The mere thought of the archaeologist warmed his heart now. When they first met, Braeburn was only grateful that he could have been friends with the actual Daring Do, that she was a real pony. As they spent more time together, he began to truly know her. She had shared perhaps her innermost secrets with him. She trusted him. But now...now it was different. Now he noticed her, actually noticed her. The pegasus had a certain way about her. Daring Do wasn't the typical feminine mare, nor was she tomcoltish like ponies had perceived Applejack at times. She was something in between, the kind of mare that just didn't exist. Not only was she beautiful, but she had a fire in her soul; a need for excitement and a love for life in general. Daring was just the kind of pony Braeburn had been waiting for, even if he hadn't realized it yet.

"Ah...Ah don't know anymore..."

"Okay, now do that again! This time try to pull up a little faster!"

"Right!"

Daring leaped off the cloud she had stationed herself on. Her wings were tucked close to her sides, letting her free fall straight down. Her wings burned from overuse, unused to working this hard and this much, but she didn't care. The actual Rainbow Dash was coaching her! It didn't matter how much it hurt; she was going to pull this trick off.

The dark-yellow pegasus spread her wings and drove them down as hard as she could, sending her upwards and into a tight loop. At the apex of the arch, she twisted her body around in a tight corkscrew. Daring recalled her coach's brief lessons and leaned her entire body into the spin. The cyan mare's advice was more than useful. As she tucked her legs in, the previously-difficult corkscrew became as easy as walking. She was in complete control of the spin, and was able to fly out of it and land next to Rainbow Dash with unprecedented ease.

"Yes!" she exclaimed in pure elation, throwing her forehooves into the air.

"Alright! Now that's what I'm talking about!" Dash grinned, bumping the other mare's hoof with her own. "You did that perfectly! You sure you've never done that before?"

"Never! That trick has confounded me for years! I guess all it took was a basic idea," Daring said, panting slightly.

Rainbow took notice of her fatigue, casting a glance to Daring's wings. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," she exhaled. "I'm just not used to flying so much."

"Well if you hang around, I'll get you more used to the idea," said Rainbow smugly. "But you should take a break for now. You don't want to overexert your wings. I don't wanna see you get a cramp and fall outta the sky."

Daring smiled, letting herself relax atop the plush cloud. "Thanks Rainbow Dash. This was really kind of you."

"Hey, no problem. I'm still kinda surprised that you're real. I mean, I know the books are meant for fillies and colts, but I still enjoy the hay outta them."

"Of course, the books," Daring sighed. "Yeah, the writer and illustrator used my job and likeness, but the tales are...mostly fictitious."

"Well yeah, I figured that," Rainbow smirked. "But what do you mean by mostly fictitious?"

"That's something I don't tend to talk about," she said politely. "But I will tell you that the first book was the most accurate."

"That's so cool!" she grinned. "So what's it like? Being an...uh..."

"An archaeologist?" Daring finished for her. "It's awesome. It may not always be as glamorous or exciting as the Tomb of the Sapphire Statue, but what I do makes me who I am, and I love it. The excitement of finding a lost artifact, or even evidence of an ancient civilization. But ever since I saw the newspaper article about your Sonic Rainboom, I've always wanted to try my wings at aerial acrobatics. I just can't believe that I got a lesson from the one and only."

To her surprise, a slight shade of pink tinged Rainbow's cyan cheeks. "Hehe, thanks! So I gotta ask, what have you been doing with Braeburn?"

"You'll read about it in the papers soon enough," said Daring. "He actually helped me find something extraordinary out in Dodge Junction. It's a long story."

"I like stories," Dash perked up with a grin. "And newspapers are boring! I'd rather hear about it from you."

"Oh, well...it's just complicated, and I've already told the story twice..." she explained, her previous uplifted mood dwindling downward.

"Complicated, huh?" Dash repeated, looking down to the orchards below. "Is it about AJ's cousin?"

Daring instinctively gritted her teeth, her eye twitching violently. She couldn't hide the heat rising to her face. Luckily, Rainbow Dash didn't seem to be the most perceptive of ponies. "No, it's not...It's not something I really want to talk about Rainbow."

"Oh, sorry," she said awkwardly. "Well, did you wanna get back to flying?"

She opened her mouth to reply, but instead stopped. Now that Rainbow put her mind back into the depressing thought, staying in Ponyville for another moment seemed far too painful. She looked down to the ground below, immediately finding the stallion that made her heart ache. She couldn't stick around anymore. If Daring didn't leave now, she would never be able to.

"Actually, I really shouldn't," she started. She didn't wish to delve too deep into her problems in front of Rainbow Dash, but felt that she deserved a least some sort of explanation. "I'm leaving town today, perhaps even the country for a while. I'd love to stick around and hang out with you and everypony else, but I just can't. I've been blaming myself for things that weren't my fault for years, and I need to just get away from everything and just...find myself, I guess. It's just complicated, I wouldn't expect you to understand."

The cyan pegasus cocked her head back.

"O-Oh," said Rainbow. "Well...that was sudden, but...I may not know what happened to you, but I think I understand. But...do you really have to leave because of it? I mean, we just met and I'd love to get to know you more."

That made Daring's heart ache. "I have to. I want to get to know you more too, but I need to be alone for a while."

"Well...will you come back?" Dash asked, sounding like a filly watching her older sister move away.

Daring found herself hesitating. "I don't know. I sure hope so."

Rainbow Dash looked as if she were trying to hide her disappointment, but it was all too evident. Guilt flooded through Daring's veins, forcing her to wrap the cyan pegasus in a hug. Dash recoiled slightly, but ultimately returned the gesture. After the yellow mare let go, she gave her new friend a reassuring smile. "I really hope so."

Braeburn busied himself by releasing a swift buck to a nearby tree, being rewarded with a few red delicious apples. They were a variety that he missed about the North, completely unlike the yellow Appleloosans that he was used to. He gathered a few of them from the grass in his foreleg and returned to the tree where Applejack and Twilight sat. While he was gone, they had apparently delved into their own conversation, more than likely to catch up after their absence. Braeburn kept quiet, only nodding as the two mares thanked him for the fruits he gave them. The beige stallion sat on his haunches and distracted his muddled mind with the tasty fruit. He ate not with hunger, but with desperation. Anything he could do to think about something else was favorable. However, his absentminded bites and chews only freed his thoughts to roam around his head. Perhaps he did look at the archaeologist that way. He wasn't entirely certain, but the steady thumps in his chest seemed to be crystal clear. Thankfully, he wasn't forced to dwell on it for too long.

From the skies above came the two pegasi, soaring alongside each other in what looked like a practiced manner. They seemed to be talking about something humorous, for they were laughing during their entire descent. As they landed, they were greeted by Twilight and Applejack.

"Done so soon?" the orange mare asked. "Ah thought you two would be in the sky all day."

"I would love to, but I actually have to go," said Daring. Braeburn's head shot up, his gaze flying over to the pegasus. She didn't look back at him, but he noticed her eyes flash in his general direction.

"What? But you just got here!" Twilight said with disappointment. "Why do you need to leave?"

"There's a few things I need to take care of," she replied. "You know, interviews and confirmations about our findings out in Dodge."

Braeburn furrowed his brow, focusing on her strained expression. She was wincing her eyes, not looking directly at any of them. Her injured forehoof was tapping ever-so slightly against a rock in the grass, and even her wings seemed to flutter a little. Daring was lying. What was she hiding? He and Applejack exchanged a look of suspicion.

"Well," the orange mare started. "Ah hope we see ya' again."

"Yeah, me too," Rainbow Dash agreed. Daring's eyes fell from them, filling with a look of guilt. Twilight looked back to Braeburn with a solemn expression, which he didn't return.

"Brae?" Daring said out of the blue, finally looking him in the eye. "Before I go, can we talk...in private?"

"O' course."

Before they walked away, Daring bid farewell to the three mares, and even exchanged a few hugs. Braeburn waited patiently, and eventually walked her back to the dirt road that led to Ponyville. Once they were far out of earshot, they stopped on the rough path. The pegasus immediately looked him dead in the eyes, her magnificent rose iris' duller than usual. There was something very wrong about her. It was as if something was tearing her up from the inside, like a secret she had waited too long to share. Was it really true? If it was, then why was she leaving?

"What's goin' on Daring?" he asked quietly. "Ya' don't have anywhere to be, not that Ah know of anyway."

"Brae..." her voice cracked, emotion seeping through. "...I have a few things to say before I go."

"Go? Where in the hay are ya' goin'?"

"Braeburn please," she pleaded, almost on the verge of tears. "...just let me say this...For the past seven years, I've been living my life on a path of guilt and self-loathing. I've blamed myself for everything that has happened to me, my parents and even Dusty Trails. In that time, I've never been able to just take a step back and see who I am. All I've done is keep to myself in the dark, and search the edges of the Earth for lost and forgotten places and artifacts. I can't really explain it all that well, I guess. But...the day you saved me from that bandit in Dodge, the first time I laid eyes on you, something happened to me. I felt something that I hadn't in so many years, something that I hadn't let myself feel. Then I came to your house in Appleloosa, and I met the best friend a pony could have. You've done so much for me Braeburn, and not just by saving my life twice. You opened up a door I've kept locked tight for so long, and I don't know how to deal with it. I'm afraid of it, even."

At this point, her large, beautiful eyes had started to brim with tears, but she bravely continued: "Because of all that's happened to me, my emotions can't be trusted for right now. If I stay here with you, I might make a mistake. I don't wanna ruin our friendship, but I can't stop...I can't stop thinking about you. But I don't know if it's real or not, and I will never know for sure if I stay. I need to leave for a while Braeburn. I d-don't know where or for how long, but I need to be alone and away from h-here. I need to find out who I really am. Because quite frankly, I have no clue. Listen to me, confessing this when I don't even know how you feel..."

Braeburn felt his face heat up once again, but he didn't try to hide that, nor the small hiccup in his throat or the tears in his eyes. "All this may be new to me, but...I know that Ah d-don't wanna see you w-walk away right now."

"I have to Brae," she said weakly, a line of moisture streaking her trembling cheek. "It's not just about you, it's about every single aspect of my life. I could never ask you to know how I feel, but I beg of you, please understand. I need to do this."

"Daring, Ah...Ah can understand, but please don't do this. We can figure this out together, Ah'll help ya' every step o' the way...No, yer right. There's nothin' Ah can do to help ya'. But...will ya' come back?"

The crying mare answered by wrapping him in a tight embrace, squeezing his neck with all of her strength. Braeburn felt her shoulders shudder with a quiet sob, and he found himself doing something similar. "Not until I can find myself Brae. But..." Daring let go, holding him by his forehooves. "Will you...will you wait for me?"

The question seemed odd at first, but he was able to grasp her meaning. "Ah will."

The mare gave a weak smile as she stood up, Braeburn slowly following suit. "Okay, if I stay here any longer I won't be able to leave. I-I have to go."

Braeburn sniffed, wiping the tears from his eyes. He forced himself to gather his composure, but found it exceedingly difficult. For the first time in his life, the workhorse had finally found that special somepony, and she had to leave. He couldn't blame her; the mare had simply been through too much in her life. If their roles had been reversed, Braeburn imagined that he would do the same thing. He had a certain three words on the tip of his tongue, but knew that voicing them would only hinder her plan. He couldn't do that to her, not now.

"Thank you for everything, Braeburn," she said with a quivering voice.

Before he could reply, the pegasus turned on a hoof and bolted into the sky and immediately out of sight over the forest to the East, back toward Ponyville's train station. She disappeared, just like that. The most wonderful thing to happen to the stallion left just as quick as it had entered; in the blink of an eye. Braeburn fell back to his haunches, clamping his eyes shut as they spilled over with a fresh flow of tears.

The sound of careful hoofsteps came from behind him, but Braeburn paid them no attention. Even when he felt a foreleg wrap around him, he didn't open his eyes.

"Rainbow told us what she's doin'," came Applejack's soft voice, the pony that was hugging him. "Ah'm sorry cousin. Ah know what she means to ya'."

"S'alright AJ," he whispered, wiping his eyes for a final time. He opened them to find the three mares around him, all wearing looks of sorrow. "That mare deserves to be alone fer a while. She's been through more than any pony should have to deal with. Ah may be sad but...Ah have a feeling that Ah'll see her again. Maybe not fer a long time, but Ah will."

Braeburn looked up to the spot where Daring Do had disappeared to find that the sun had finally risen, casting a bright orange glow across the land. It was as if the world was trying to reassure him that everything was going to be alright. Truthfully, he knew that it would be. He had his family and friends around him, and a small fortune waiting at home. He had done it; he had successfully revived the Appleloosan farm, and even given them some financial leeway. The pegasus that made it all happen may have left, but what she had left behind was more than enough to be grateful for.

Some ponies say that all you need in times of need is a little miracle, something seemingly impossible by the normal means of the natural world. Some ponies, however, do not believe in such fairy tales. To the average cynic or skeptic, such events can be clearly described as coincidence. There are even some that do not wish to believe, only until something extraordinary happens to them. What changes your life can also have a great impact on how you live it; how you perceive it. Anything can change when fate is questioned, especially when it's altered for the good, the bad or even both. Sometimes, all a pony needs in his life is a little miracle.

-The End-

Part Two: Colt of the West

One - The Riflepony

Treasure in the West

Part One of the Riflepony Series

By: DiveBomb

The farm had always seen hot summer days, but never quite like this. The heat was visible, distorting the air and instantly evaporating any water that dared to exist under the sun's scorching rays. For days now the unbearable heat wave relinquished the orchard of any and all moisture, draining the apples in the trees of their luster and taste. Bucking the fruits loose was a lost virtue, for more reasons than one. The farm's workers were unable to step outside without an immediate visit to the town's infirmary, not to mention that most of the tree's apples were no longer of any use. However, the ones that still held value had to be salvaged, for it would be the family's only source of income for a month. But with nopony else able to work, there was only one stallion that dared to scavenge the dehydrated fruits.

With a halfhearted buck, only three of the apples fell into the basket on the ground below. For what it was worth, they were the only edible ones left in the branches above. The day hadn't even reached its peak, but already sweat had poured from the beige earth pony's brow. The only thing shielding him from the sun's rays were a dark brown cowpony hat and a matching vest. Perspiration stung the stallion's emerald eyes, forcing him to clamp them shut every few minutes. He wiped his forehead with a hoof, momentarily cursing his thick, lustrous blonde mane for insulating the heat to his brain. The stallion panted over the nearly-empty basket. Six healthy apples littered the bottom of the weaved container, coming from three trees so far. He tried not to focus on the depressing ratio, and instead drove on to the next tree.

The earth pony had been determined to do whatever he could to bring in any sort of profit for the farm. The small town of Appleloosa practically lived off of their farm's fruits, and in turn they did the same with the business. Their family had indeed prepared for the summer heat, but not for anything like this. The heat wave had certainly put a damper on their plans, and soon it would also effect the orchard's already minimal profits. The stallion couldn't stand for that. If there was no other pony able to buck, then he would be the one to work his hardest to save the farm, no matter the cost.

"Braeburn!" came a voice. The sudden sound caused the beige stallion to whip his head around, perhaps too quickly. The movement spun his mind, and dehydration started to take its course. His vision blurred, and all he could see was an orange pony galloping over to him, but nothing more. He forced his eyes shut, fighting the oncoming nausea.

"Braeburn, what in the hay are ya' tryin' to prove out here?"

The farmer slowly opened his eyes. In front of him was an orange earth pony. The mare's light blonde mane was soaked with perspiration, falling from underneath her notched Stetson. Her green eyes were filled with worry, looking her cousin over in trepidation.

"Cousin Applejack?" Braeburn asked in disbelief. "What're ya' doin' in Appleloosa?"

"Brae, we need'ta get ya' inside," the orange mare said hurriedly, dodging the question. The stallion shook his head.

"Nothin' doin' Cuz. Ah gotta get these apples in the barn before-"

"No ya' don't!" Applejack retorted. "Listen cousin, Ah respect yer work ethic as much as any other pony, but yer gonna end up in the hospital! Now get inside before that happens!"

Applejack started to push her cousin toward the barn with her forehead when Braeburn fell to his side, unable to stand any longer. With a gasp, the orange mare pulled him to his hooves, guiding him out of the orchard without another word. Braeburn couldn't find the strength to argue, only to pace limply with his cousin's support. He panted as his vision started to center, his throat as dry as a bone in the desert. Applejack led the exhausted stallion to the small barn home, opening the door for him.

Braeburn eventually found himself falling into his bed as the shades were drawn, shielding the small room from the unforgiving sun. The cool shade was like Heaven to the fatigued earth pony, but still not as relieving as the glass of water that was presented to him moments later. Braeburn laid on his back, draining the cup of its contents with several desperate gulps. He dropped the empty glass on the mattress, panting with his eyes on the ceiling.

"Are ya' feelin' any better?" asked Applejack from the side of the bed. Braeburn gathered his breath.

"Ah think so. Thank ya' kindly Cuz," he said. Once his head stopped spinning, the stallion pulled himself to his haunches. Applejack still wore a look of concern.

"What were ya' doin' out there anyway?" she asked quietly. "There wasn't one healthy fruit in any o' those trees."

"There were a few," he disagreed politely. "And those few still needed to be bucked. Listen cousin, Ah don't wanna sound rude or nothin', but we don't have the comforts of Weather Pegasi here out West. So when heat like this drums up, we still gotta make due. Nopony else could do it, so the work fell onto me. I'm not complainin' or nothin', it's my job. It's what Ah'm supposed to do."

"Ah can't imagine yer Pa thinks yer supposed to die buckin' bad apples cousin," Applejack said with a smile. Braeburn cracked a small grin of his own.

"Maybe not, but it's still my job," he sighed. "So what're ya' doin' in Appleloosa Cuz?"

"Well Ah came to visit ya'. But Ah guess Ah'm here to take care of that thick head o' yers," she mused. "We're done fer the rest of the month, and Granny Smith said Ah needed to take a vacation."

"Granny Smith said that? Now Ah've heard everything," the stallion laughed, happy to find his mind at ease again.

"The farm isn't doin' too good huh?" Applejack asked suddenly. Braeburn frowned, not wishing to pursue the issue. However, the look on his cousin's face drove the matter further. "That's why you've been workin' so hard, isn't it?"

"Shoot Cuz, you've always been sharp as a tack haven't ya'?" the beige cowpony sighed. Applejack shrugged humbly.

Braeburn removed his hat, his blonde bangs matted to his forehead with sweat. He wiped his brow, pondering how to approach the topic. "No Cuz, it hasn't. On top of this heat wave, business has been terrible. Ponies just haven't been buyin' our apples like they used to. Ah'm afraid that we might have to sell the farm to recover our losses."

Applejack's jaw dropped. "Sell the farm? Ya'll can't do that! It's the family business!"

"Ah know AJ, but if this keeps up, we won't have a choice," he said with disdain. "S'bad enough that ponies won't buy our wares, but now we won't have nothin' to sell. Ah don't mean ta' burden yer mind or nothin'."

"Naw Brae, it's alright. Ah needed to know. Maybe we can work somethin' out," she spoke reassuringly. Braeburn did his best to return her smile, but didn't know what it ended up looking like.

Silence filled the small room for what seemed like several minutes. All the stallion could do was fiddle with his Stetson. Eventually the door to the room opened, causing the two to turn their heads.

Braeburn's father stood in the doorway. He wore a long black vest over a deep, sand-colored coat. His gunmetal-gray mane was tied back in a thick tail under his dark, flat-brimmed cowpony hat. Upon his flank was a brass bullet, a cutie mark representing his days as a seasoned competition riflepony. Bullet Tyme looked between the two, raising his eyebrows at the sight of Applejack.

"Well look at this, Ah knew Ah heard yer voice AJ. How're ya' doin'?" Bullet Tyme greeted in his rough, haggard voice.

"Good afternoon Uncle B. Thank ya' kindly, Ah'm jus' dandy," the orange mare replied. "Granny told me to take a few days off, so Ah thought Ah'd give ya'll a visit."

"Well that's mighty good o' ya' AJ," said Bullet before casting a glance to his son. Braeburn expected a scolding for not being out in the orchard, but was surprised to hear a small snicker. "Looks like that sun really got ta' ya' son. Ya' feelin' alright?"

Braeburn suppressed a cocked eyebrow of confusion. "Uhm. Yeah, Ah'm gettin' there Pa."

"Good, 'cause Ah've got somethin' fer ya' out in the livin' room," said Bullet. "Why don't ya' come on out and see?"

"What? What for?" asked Braeburn curiously. His father laughed heartily.

"Did ya' ferget about yer birthday son? In case ya' have, it's today."

Braeburn furrowed his brow. His father was right. The stallion had completely forgotten about what day it was. The past few weeks held nothing but work, keeping his mind far too busy to keep track of the date. He wasn't the only one surprised either. Applejack wore a look of realization, clearly having forgotten as well. She gave her cousin an apologetic glance, which Braeburn returned with a forgiving smile.

"Oh yeah, Ah guess it slipped my mind," the beige cowpony replied with a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his head with a hoof.

"Well come on then," Bullet said as he gestured with a hoof.

He left the room, allowing Braeburn and Applejack to exchange a confused look. Bullet Tyme wasn't one to be so nice and forgiving about his workers nor his son being unable to buck apples, regardless of the conditions. Applejack being there hadn't deterred the stallion from scolding Braeburn openly in the past for even the smallest of mistakes. So what made him so happy today? Why wasn't he demanding his son to go outside and work?

Braeburn shook his bangs from his eyes, placing his hat atop his head once again. Applejack gave him a shrug, more or less saying, don't question it. The beige stallion slowly stepped down from his mattress, wobbling slightly from the sudden movement. He collected himself, walking out and into the living room, followed by Applejack.

The sitting room was the largest in the house, its walls lined with a plethora of family pictures, marking several generations of the Apple Family. Shelves and bookcases were packed with varying trinkets and keepsakes, mostly family heirlooms. Amongst the frames on the walls were a veritable cornucopia of blue ribbons, won by Bullet, his father and his grandfather in many shooting competitions throughout the years. The Apple Family in Ponyville had been known for Sweet Apple Acres, but in Appleloosa, they were famous for their unmatched rifle prowess. In the middle of the brown carpet stood a couch and a large sitting chair. Bullet Tyme sat in his usual recliner, leaning back in comfort. Braeburn and Applejack quietly sat on the couch across the coffee table from the middle-aged stallion.

"Now before Ah give ya' this, ya' need ta' understand what it means," Bullet started, his usual stern expression returning. "This item has been in our family fer over a hundred years, and it was yer grandpappy's wish fer you ta' have it one day. Ah think today is that day."

Braeburn's eyes widened. What was so important about this gift? The cowpony couldn't remember the last time his father gave him a present of any kind, unless he counted the seldom ten-minute break from work every now and then.

Bullet Tyme reached behind his chair, retrieving an ancient-looking black leather scabbard, a dark brown expanse of wood protruding from its end. The case was looped with a leather strap, obviously meant for carrying whatever the item was on a pony's back. He handed the long, thin scabbard to his son, a rare smile spread across his face. Braeburn took it, suddenly aware of what he was holding. With wide eyes, the stallion unsheathed his grandfather's Marechester lever-action rifle. Bullet Tyme had showed his son the old weapon many a time before during his colthood, so he was all too aware of what it had meant.

Braeburn hadn't seen the rifle in years. The old wooden stocks still bore the same glossed burgundy color, bearing very few scuffs or burrs. The gray steel barrel and receiver showed a hundred years of age, swirls of brown and silver patina giving the metal a classic, experienced appearance. Around the cartridge gate was an intricate scroll-work engraving, spiraling into the shape of an apple near the start of the barrel. The lever around the trigger had a large enough opening to accommodate a hoof to work the action and to fire the weapon. Braeburn looked to his father in pure disbelief, Applejack mirroring his expression.

"Pa...Wha...Why're you giving me this?" he asked breathlessly. "Ah've never even shot a gun before."

"Well then it's 'bout time ya' did," he said. "Yer grandpappy and his Pa before him were legendary rifleponies. Ah'm gettin' on in years, and my shootin' has been lackin'. It's high time ya' take on my family's legacy."

"But Pa," Braeburn said. "Ah'm not a pony meant fer holdin' a gun. Ah appreciate the hay outta this, but Ah'm a farmer, not a shooter. Ah know ya' wanna keep competition shootin' in the family but..."

"Ah knew that you'd say that," his father replied with a grin. "Ah'll tell ya' what. You go out back and shoot that rifle, and then make yer decision. If ya' still don't like the idea after that, then that's yer choice."

Braeburn looked to his cousin, whom had kept uncharacteristically quiet during the entire exchange. Applejack nodded her head quickly, silently urging him to comply. The cowpony looked back to the rifle in his forehooves. The gun was indeed his family's legacy, having been hoofed down through three generations of competition shooters. However, Braeburn couldn't find himself accepting it. He knew that the rifle was only ever used for target shooting and sport, but it was still a weapon meant for killing, something he wasn't especially fond of. Although, on the other hoof, what could be so wrong about just firing off one shot, if only to satisfy his father? Bullet did deserve that, having been generous enough to part with the old Marechester.

"Ah guess it wouldn't be a problem," Braeburn admitted. His father grinned once more.

"Well good. Meet me in the range out back."

Bullet Tyme had built an addition to the barn a couple of years ago. The back door led to a long gun range for practicing his shots. Several paper targets had been set up at varying distances. Some stood at the other end of the barn at roughly a hundred feet, some closer to three yards, and a few in between. Before the range was a long table, bearing three other, less meaningful rifles with boxes of ammunition next to them. Braeburn gave his cousin an awkward glance.

"Ah don't know about this," he whispered to Applejack.

"Just humor yer Pa Cuz," the orange mare whispered back. "You know what that rifle means to him."

The three approached the bench, and the beige stallion unsheathed the weapon from his back, laying it across its surface. Bullet Tyme dumped a box of ammunition out, the brass cartridges rolling across the table. He picked up the rifle and slid five of the rounds through the small black gate on the side of the receiver. He handed the weapon to his son, giving him a small smile.

"Fire away boy."

Braeburn did his best to smile, taking the gun into his forehooves. He had watched his father fire the weapon a multitude of times in the past, so he knew how to operate it. The stallion regretfully racked the lever, watching as a single cartridge entered the chamber with a click. The feeling of the action was unexpectedly gratifying. Braeburn stood on his hindhooves, leaning his elbows on the bench. As his father instructed, he lined up the iron sights on the ends of the barrel and the receiver with the closest target. The weight of the gun was difficult to hold steady, his forelegs not used to wielding any sort of weapon. He rested the butt of the stock against his shoulder, bracing himself.

"Now right before ya' fire, breathe out yer nose. It'll steady yer aim," Bullet Tyme said quietly. He heard Applejack hold her breath behind him, but paid no more attention to it.

The cowpony took his father's advice, taking in a deep breath before pulling the trigger with his left hoof. The ancient rifle barked with a resounding bang. The recoil threw his shoulder back with ease, the shock wave making the concrete tremble beneath their hooves. Despite the ringing in his ears, Braeburn felt his eyes widen with delight. A rush of adrenaline flowed through his mind, causing an insane grin to spread across his face. The feeling was amazing. Suddenly all of his worries and doubts about the farm were simply gone, replaced by pure elation as he saw a hole breach the exact center of the target.

The stallion wasted no time in racking the action again, ejecting a smoldering shell and immediately lining his shot upon the next target. As quick as the sights fell into the center of the circle, another bark erupted from the rifle, placing a neat hole in its mark. Soon the last three rounds were fired off in quick succession, Braeburn racking the lever and pulling the trigger as fast as he could line up each shot. The brass shells clinked against the concrete floor, almost unheard by the beige cowpony. Once all five bullets had fired through their respective targets, Braeburn exhaled, his heart fluttering with excitement. Bullet Tyme barked out a laugh of pride beside him.

"WOO-EE!" he exclaimed. "Son, that was amazin'!"

"Braeburn, how did ya' do that?!" Applejack gasped from behind him. The beige stallion slowly placed the rifle on the bench in front of him. He couldn't find an answer to his cousin's question.

How did he just do that?

Braeburn had never even touched a weapon of any kind before, and yet he just punched a hole dead in the center of five targets, the last one being at the very far end of the range. Bullet took notice of his son's bewilderment, giving him a playful hit to the shoulder with a hoof.

"What'd Ah tell ya' Braeburn? Shootin's in yer blood! And don't even try ta' say you didn't enjoy the hay outta that."
Braeburn turned his head, giving his father a bright smile.

"Okay, maybe Ah was wrong about it," he admitted. "Ah guess if it's only sheets o' paper, then it can't be all that bad."

"That was the point boy," Bullet chuckled. Braeburn had never seen his father so happy before, and it brought a deep sense of pride to his heart. The beige stallion smiled as he received a brief one-hoofed hug around his neck. "Don't worry 'bout the apples today son. Ya' got family visiting. Take the day off."

With that Bullet Tyme left the range, closing the door behind him. Braeburn and Applejack exchanged a look of shock. His father gave him the day off? The stallion had never been granted such a reward from Bullet Tyme. It was simply not an option in the middle-aged stallion's book.

"Whoa," the orange mare exhaled. "You really made his day. Who knew you were such a desperado."

Braeburn shared a laugh with his cousin. He looked back to the rifle, grazing a hoof over its flawless, hundred-year-old wooden stocks. Now he realized why the weapon had such an odd name. His great-grandfather had called it Thumper. Braeburn guessed that it was due to the rifle's enormous, ground-breaking thump that it sent through the floor.

"So AJ, how have things been in Ponyville?" he asked, more to fill the silence than anything.

"Ah wouldn't rightly know. Ah've been workin' every day fer weeks before Ah came here."

"You and Big Macintosh had any help at least?"

"Well kinda," Applejack said, rolling her eyes. "My friend Rainbow Dash actually volunteered to help buck the apples. She ain't too good at it though."

Braeburn cocked an eyebrow, remembering Applejack's description of the cyan pegasus. "Didn't you say she was...well, lazy?"

"Yeah, Ah thought it was odd," she said with a hoof to her chin. "She was mighty eager about it too. Eh, who knows with that mare. Anyway, lemme try that rifle. It sure did look like fun."

"O' course Cuz. See if you can beat me," Braeburn grinned.

"Oh so that's how it is huh? Well gimme a few tries and Ah'll do ya' one better!"

Applejack took up the weapon after haphazardly shoving a few shells into the cartridge gate. "Oh, and happy birthday Cuz."

Braeburn smiled, relieved that he could spend a simple, relaxing day with family.

A hoof rapped on the front door, causing Bullet Tyme to raise his eyes from his newspaper. The stallion tipped his flat-brimmed Stetson back, groaning as he slowly ascended from his overwhelmingly-comfortable sitting chair. Another impatient knock resounded on the old wood. He grunted, stepping over to the door and opening it.

On the other side of the threshold stood a pegasus mare with a coat the color of sandstone. She wore a black traveling cloak, draped around her shoulders and falling at her hooves. On her back was a pair of saddlebags, obscuring her odd-looking cutie mark. The mare's head bore a mane of six different shades of gray, her bangs swayed over a pair of bright, magenta eyes. Bullet Tyme gave the pegasus an odd look, attempting to take in her appearance. The mare looked up to him with a polite smile.

"Hello sir. I am to understand that a stallion named Braeburn lives here?"

Afterword

Treasure in the West

A Short Afterword

Hello, everyone! This is DiveBomb, here to say a few things about this story and its readers.

Treasure in the West has been one of those projects that I have had a large amount of fun with, simply because of its concepts and character development. As most of you may know, a lot of the ideas were derived from my profession and love of Old West weaponry and history. Mostly weaponry, obviously. One example being my personal Winchester Model 1894; Thumper. That's right, a gun made its way as a self-insert. Who knew.

As for the characters, there's a few things I'd like to say about them as well. After I finished Broken, I wanted to do a story that explored the Western areas of Equestria, something that (unfortunately) hadn't really been done all that much. Well, to my knowledge, anyway. So of course, I immediately wanted Braeburn to star in this idea, mostly because I loved his character in the show and wished he had more airtime. At that thought, there was another one-shot pony that I wanted to become a real character, and not just a storybook protagonist. From there, I formulated a theory on how these two completely different ponies could somehow find each other and set out on some kind of adventure. Of course, that was how the story was born. There were a slew of other things that helped craft every aspect of the story, but no one wants to read about that. I guess this part will be kept brief.

From here, I would like to thank a couple of people. First off, I would like to show my gratitude by thanking JohnPerry, for doing an amazing job pre-reading this fic, as well as helping me by bopping me on the head with a rolled-up newspaper whenever I wrote something that didn't make sense. Second, to the pre-reader that allowed this story to be posted on Equestria Daily. As you can imagine, TITW didn't make it the first run through, and I have no problem admitting that. This person did a great job pointing out the gaping holes in the plot, as well as a few other giant errors. So thanks for that buddy!

And of course, you, the readers. You've all been great not only saying what is good about the story, but also by pointing out errors I may have missed, or even critique in places where it was needed. Just because I don't reply to everything doesn't mean I don't learn from it. But ultimately, I appreciate your patience and kind words, so thank you for that. You guys are awesome.

-DiveBomb

...Oh, and one more thing...

I hope you're all going to be ready for a wild ride.