Shimmer of Hope

by Nicktendonick

Rating: mature
Tags: Adventure, Lyra, Cake Twins, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Alternate Universe, Original Character
Length: 16497

The princesses are dead and gone, leaving us to decay as Celestia’s harmony gives way to tyranny and death.But there is a chance – a shimmer of hope – living in another world. In order to get it, I must first find a mare lost to the wastes.

The world has grown as sick as the yellow light from the sunset that never ends.

Happiness and hope are lost to the endless dust I walk through. The princesses and their heroes who brought hope into our world are dead and gone, leaving us to decay as Celestia’s harmony gives way to tyranny and death.

But there is a chance – a shimmer of hope to set things right – through a portal to another world.
In order to get to it, I must first find a mare lost to the wastes.

Originally written for the More Most Dangerous game contest, it has been heavily edited into what you see before you.

Rated Mature for profane language, intense themes of violence, and semi-graphic gore.

Written by Nicktendonick, with massive help by KwirkyJ for editing, advising me on this, teaching me how to write in first person past tense, making me a better writer, helping transform my stuff into something much better, and for being just invaluable.

Kwirky, thank you, I would have never finished this thing if it wasn't for you.

Published 2015-03-11 01:20:03 UTC
Last updated 2015-03-11 01:20:03 UTC

Shimmer of Hope

“Shimmer of Hope”

Writing by Nicktendonick

Editing by Calico

Word Alchemy, Super-Editing, Advice, assistance, and invaluable tutoring by the amazing KwirkyJ

Ignore the corpses, I thought to myself. It’s not muchfarther. Just a quick trot through the dust and I’m there.

Off in the distance sat an extravagant shanty town, dotted with lights. A tall wooden fence jutted remorselessly out of the plain, rusted barbed wire strewn half-assed on top to keep mudder earth pony bandits out. The hazy light just sat on it, that perpetual thick yellow dusk suggesting a murky blue twilight that would never come. Clear skies; no pegasi would be hiding in the clouds here.

With a spark from my horn I lit it up a cigar, gave it a puff, and nearly hacked my lungs out. Oh, Celestia, this stogie sucks.

I kept puffing on it anyway as I made my approach, because it helped the look. You’re seventy-one point eight times less likely to be attacked if you’re smoking; a scientifically proven fact, at least according to Princess Twilight Sparkle. She had told me that, once, back when the cycle of daybreak, sunset, and moonrise was a part of everyday life and not some distant memory lying just beyond the horizon. If I could take a spear to the chest for Celestia, I could deal with smoking a sub-par cigar.

Part of me wished I hadn’t killed the bastard I had taken it from just so I could kill him again for carrying such a shitty cigar. No wonder I snapped his neck; forget the whole ‘trying to kill me for my sunglasses on a desert road’ thing, if he smoked shit like that he deserved to die. It had been far too long since I had tasted a proper cigar, like the one that drunken fool had a couple years back. Such a rare treat that bastard had, a rich blend of premium greenhouse-grown tobacco perfectly rolled oh-so fine, and there was that asshole, pissed-out-of-his-gourd drunk and smoking that little piece of perfection like it was a one-bit ‘rillo. Not like he was sober enough to know the difference, if he ever cared at all at some point. I had to just sit there, seething with envy, trying in vain to absorb the richness of the smoke coming too quickly to enjoy. Why the hell did those mudders wait till he had finished his last one to pop a hole through his head? Such a waste. I’d kill for a good cigar… well, maybe not.

Celly would never approve of that. She’d talk to me all about delayed gratification and the virtues of patience, how to wait for my own, and then promise we would share some later. Celly had some pretty good cigars. But of course she did. She was the princess after all, she had the very best.

With my brain deep in thought, my hoof caught on a skull and I nearly tripped, snapping me out of my cigar-filled memories and back into reality.

“Get off memory lane and stay on the damn road,” I told no one but myself. “You have a job to do.”

After regaining my balance and adjusting my shades, I looked up to see that I had almost reached my destination. Past the gate that barred my entry stood a wooden guard tower perched to defend the entrance: one griffin and one pegasus. Lookouts, I guessed.

And not very good ones, honestly – it took nearly a minute of me standing within spitting distance of the wooden guard tower for the griffin to spot me. As soon as he noticed me, which took me waving to him, he drew his rifle and took aim. A shout to the pegasus stallion got him to snap out of his stupor and train his rifle on me. I could tell even at that distance they were holding shitty replicas. I’d never allow such shoddy equipment, or such a lack of discipline among my own ranks. I supposed at least they got the perk of looting the people they shot, if the raided corpses I passed by to get here wasn’t any indication. But even if the guns were shit, I was clearly in their sights. If they knew who I was – if my enchanted contacts failed – or if they decided to shoot for the Tartarus of it, I would be walking into a deathtrap and would have to fight my way out. I wondered if I should start shooting before they did.

I shook my head. No, that was not an option. Celestia would never resort to violence unprovoked, and neither should I. Celestia would know what do here, how to solve this through words and friendship without incident. I had seen her do it a thousand times on all the diplomatic trips I had protected her on. She always knew the right words to defuse even the most tense of situations. But she wasn’t here anymore – I was, and I knew how things ended when I did them my way.

“Identify yourself!” I heard the pegasus shout to me. “Show us your hooves!”

Obediently, I stood up on my hind legs, swaying slightly, letting them see my hoofgun as the oilcloth of my duster brushed over it. Any sane pony in this ruined world would be packing, there wasn’t any point in hiding my piece. “I am a traveler seeking to acquire a certain brand of equine goods.” I shouted, emphasizing ‘brand’ and ‘equine goods’. “I am here on business.”

“Take off your sunglasses and show us your face. State your name and nature of your business.”

Ponies don’t like it when they can’t see your eyes. Goggles weren’t too uncommon on the plains – something to keep the dust from blowing in your eyes. Tinted lenses however, like the ones I liked to wear, were much less common with the perpetual dusk. But that wasn’t what I was worried about: if the enchanted contacts I wore under those sunglasses didn’t do their job, these grunts might recognize me from the bounty posters. I wasn’t worried about these two in particular, but a gunfight here would make my mission much, much more difficult.

Here goes…

I took off my sunglasses and, after a fit of squinting, looked up with fake blue eyes. “My name is Abigail. I’m here to meet with Mister King.”

“Weird name,” the griffin muttered to himself, his razor-sharp eyes examining my face. “Mister King doesn’t handle sales directly. He sees VIP clients only. We’ll have one of our associates help you out.”

“I am a VIP. I was told to show you this.” I slowly took out a gold medallion with the face of a unicorn on one side, while the other bore a crown with the letters ‘VIP’ engraved underneath. I levitated it up to to the guard tower. The griffin snatched it up and, after a moment of examination, he tossed the oversized coin back down to me. He nodded to his companion and the guns lowered.

“Checks out, Miss... Abigail. Welcome to our fine establishment.” He turned to his partner. “Go get the others and open the gate. Tell the boss he has a top-shelf customer for Mister King.”

The pegasus took off. The griffin stayed and spoke to me from his perch.

“You’re here for business and pleasure only, so keep it at that. Word to the wise, don’t go and try anything funny. Don’t try to rip us off, don’t wander off without supervision, don’t play any games, don’t harm the merchandise, and, most importantly, don’t piss us off. Because the ponies that do, Miss Abigail, wind up for sale. For pleasure, if they’re pretty; as food, if they’re not.”

“Thanks for the heads-up.”

“Consider it your one and only warning,” he snarled.

I slid my sunglasses back on and rolled my eyes behind the tinted lenses. Lucky me.

The gate slowly opened with a heavy mechanical grating. Four figures walked out of the encampment. A finely dressed brown Earth Pony stallion in a business suit with a darker combed over mane, the pegasus from before, a large white griffin, and a tall and slender blue unicorn mare.

The business stallion signaled for the pegasus to fly back to his post as he and his posse trotted up to greet me. I assumed the two who remained on the ground where this pony’s dedicated bodyguards – judging by the combat shotguns strapped to their backs and the close proximity they kept, it was hard to assume anything else. I slid my sunglasses down my nose a little, letting him see just the top of my fake baby blues. It was impossible to miss him undressing me with his eyes.

“Hello Miss Abigail! It’s always a pleasure to meet one of Mister King’s valued clients!” said the finely-dressed pony. “I am the administrator of this wonderful oasis! He extended his hoof to me. “If you follow me, my dear Abigail, I’ll take you to Mister King right away.”

I hated being called ‘dear.’

“The pleasure,” I said, a lopsided smile on my lips, taking his hoof just long enough to get his attention, “would be all mine.”

He returned the smirk with his own. I followed him and his posse inside. The gate behind us ground shut, the heavy lock bar dropping into place with a hollow boom.

We had entered into the King’s Oasis. There would be no going back from here on out. I would either complete my mission, or die trying.

This place used to be called Appleloosa; kinda shabby, not as advanced as the rest of Equestria, but it had its own charm. But now that King had gotten his greedy hooves on it, it was a shadow of its former self. Only half of Appleloosa’s buildings from those days remained, and every one had been changed since I had last been there with Celestia, all those years ago. Every structure was remodeled and branded with the symbol of a golden crown: the sigil of Mister King. I walked across Appleloosa's remains with the well-dressed administrator, a never-ending stream of words flowing from his lips.

“Some talk about the glories of a New Las Pegasus, dear Abagail, but this is the jewel of the desert.” My tour-guide swept a hoof, gesturing at the street around us. “Your host, Mister King, will insist that his Oasis offers everything a pony could ever desire. The Oasis is nothing short of a pleasure paradise. Do you like what you see?”

“Oh, absolutely,” I said, lying through my teeth. I knew his type, and exactly how to play it: be nice and flirty, act innocent, ask lots of questions, throw in a dirty joke every now and then. But most importantly of all, play to this narcissist's ego. “It’s everything I dreamed it would be!”

The buildings mocked the desert life. There was a bar on every corner, themed whorehouses to cater to anypony’s carnal tastes, and a singular glitzy casino pulsating with loud music and glaring lights. The attractions were filled with drunk stallions, each with a finely dressed mare by their sides playfully persuading their clients to spend, drink, and indulge all the more. Mares, gambling, drinking and drugs: everything a sinful, young and horny stallion could want in this perverted oasis. I had to admit a lot of it was turning me on, too, but I knew this slice of heaven really was nothing more than a pit into Tartarus.

“-and here, next to our grand hotel, is our newest pleasure tavern. We just finished construction a few days ago, it’s opening next week.”

He turned away, and I took the moment to stop schmoozing and examine our chaperones. I caught the unicorn mare mid-yawn. If it weren’t for her eyes when they re-opened and turned on me, I’d have guessed she was half-asleep. When I cast my glance towards the griffin with his striking and handsome white pelt, I saw that his eyes were directly on me, and I got the feeling that gaze had had been for some time. Luckily, burning holes in the back of one’s head was only an expression, or I’d probably have been dead.

Speaking of dead, I was quite glad that these anti-recognition contacts I was wearing were doing their job. I would have been in trouble if anypony here realized I was ‘that little shit’ who had been attacking King’s slave transports. As they hadn't filled me with lead by now, these contacts really did work. Especially when it seemed like King’s second in command here would rather claim my booty instead of my bounty.

“– that we can expand so… aggressively, thanks to the bits flowing in.” His mouth was still running. “From the stallions, at least. For a gorgeous mare like yourself, Miss Abigail, admission is complimentary. Truly, too few members of the finer sex appreciate what we offer here. Anything and everything is on the house: if you desire it, I will make it so.”

I had to admit the idea of having as much cigars and sex as my body could handle was very tempting, but I was fairly sure the ‘gorgeous mares’ that entered of their free will never got to leave. None of the girls here became prostitutes by choice, I could see it in their hollow eyes when I passed them by.

I spied two young mares who might or might not be of age accompanied by their much older johns entering the oasis-themed hotel nearby. While their can-can outfits covered up much of their bodies, it was impossible not to notice that each mare wore collars disguised as necklaces around their necks and thick layers of makeup to hide the bruises on their faces. If they didn’t meet their quota for the night, I was fairly sure they’d get some more.

We arrived at the last building in the public side of the Oasis. King’s crown jewel lay before us, a worthless monstrosity of scrap metal pounded into the shape of a crudely twisted castle. I ignored the crude metal building like all the others until I learned the name: ‘The Palace of the Princesses,’ the administrator said. Morbid fascination kicked in as I listened to my host explain its theme: each of the mares working the ‘palace’ were the alicorn princesses and heroines of Equestria, there to bring ‘pleasure’ to wayward travelers.

Bullshit, I thought. You make your whores pretend to be the four princesses and smear their names. They had been dead so long I wouldn’t have been surprised if half the johns didn’t even remember what they looked like anymore. But I did; I could never forget. I knew them right down to the last detail.

As we passed the ‘Palace’, a white mare at the entrance caught my eye. She just stood there, chained to the entrance by a silver collar. A crude sunburst cutie mark was painted on her flanks. Her hair was the wrong shade of pink. She had a horn stuck to her forehead, I could see the wires that held it in place as well as the fake plaster wings tied to her sides. All topped off with a pathetic wooden crown painted gold with an inset shard of purple glass. I couldn’t take my eyes off the farcical, insulting mockery of Princess Celestia, who was waving and inviting each john to enter inside the brothel she was bound to. This whore was nothing but an affront towards the Princess I served, an insult to her greatness and her sacrifice for us. The abomination winked at me as I walked past; it was as if some cosmic force was taunting me through this whore.

I could feel the wrath in my soul building inside me, and before I knew it I had reached into my clothes for my hoofgun.

They were making a mockery of the mare who saved my soul, the mare whom I had protected for years, the mare who sacrificed her life to save us. They had taken the mare I had devoted my entire body, mind and soul to, and reduced her to nothing but to a whore on a stage!

I wanted… I needed to destroy this twisted abomination of my princess. I needed to murder this abomination and every soul who took pleasure in this farce. I needed to set the entire fucking oasis on fire and jam King’s god-damned head through a meat grinder for even considering to whore out my goddess!

“And that, Abigail, concludes our little tour. Any questions my dear?”

His words snapped me out of my train of thought. Rationality returned to my mind.

No. Stop this. Abi, stop this right now. You’re not that type of pony anymore. You promised Celestia you’d never go back.

...Right… never again. Never again.

I took a deep breath, slipping an empty hoof out of my pocket, the temptations of the old me fading away. I knew better than to act so rashly – if I gave into those murderous temptations to destroy this insult. I would ruin everything she’d done for me. Even if I could afford to do something about it, they were the the symptom, not the cause; killing them wasn’t the cure. I had to remind myself these girls were not doing this on purpose. Those girls didn’t choose to be there. They were all the victims of King, none of them deserved my wrath.

“No. Nothing, really,” I answered, feigning a smile as best I could.

“I see, I see,” the administrator said back “Anything that catches your eye, my dear Abigail?”

“I think I might check out that pleasure tavern when we’re done here. Depends on how much time I have before I need to leave.” I topped off my lie with a little bit of information I remembered from earlier.

“I see. Well I do hope you spend some time here, this is an oasis of pleasure. A mare as beautiful as yourself shouldn’t miss out.”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong,” I said, “I've always been a 'business before pleasure' sort of gal. Finish my little bit of business, then a whole lot of pleasure.”

Instead of checking to see if I’m everything I say I am and that I’m not a threat, which I very much was, I knew the look he had in his eyes, he wanted me, and would take me the moment I gave him the chance. I’ve had to deal with my fair of horny stallions before – this bastard was no different.

“Before we get to Mister King, why don’t I show you a little selection of our fine stock? We’ll get you to Mister King soon enough, not to worry, now if you would follow me…”

We passed beyond the ‘oasis’ part of the settlement, the neat and clean section that King wanted everyone to see. As a VIP, I was entitled to see the nerve center of King’s oasis of pleasure. Unlike the wooden fence erected around the outer complex, the inner barrier was made of steel. Heavy barbed wire was coiled about the spikes atop the walls, stallions armed with assault rifles standing guard in front of the gate. With a nod from the administrator, the portcullis was raised and we entered the maw of King’s great metal monster.

I shivered as I passed through and saw what lay ahead of me. We had walked out of the oasis of pleasure and into a slave camp of hell. The glitz and glamor was all gone. Cold steel walls, bloody dirt floors, tall fences, and ponies in cages, all kept under the watchful eyes of King’s soldiers through their rifle scopes.

“See anything you like?” The administrator asked me.

Each of the three tribes and non-ponies were separated into different pens, further divided by gender. The unicorns had suppression devices on their horns, pegasi and griffins had their wings bound, and the earth ponies bound by their hooves. And those were just the first sets of cages. There were more equines in these fenced cages than I could shake a hoof at.

But it was the unicorn mares that I was there for. A certain, specific one.

I walked towards the pen containing the unicorn mares and scanned their faces. Each and every one was completely naked, some bearing gashes in their ears, eyebrows and lips – hallmarks of piercings torn free.. I could count the ribs on most. They looked even more malnourished than the survivors starving outside these walls.

The captive girls rushed to the fence as they noticed my approach. They were pushing, shoving, pleading to be purchased, screaming in rabid desperation: “Pick me! Pick me!” – or anything else they thought I’d want in a slave. We all knew why, their lives depended on someone buying them and taking them away from this living nightmare before they became slim pickings for the vultures and griffins… or worse.

Celestia, I wished I could have done something for them then and there. They didn’t deserve such treatment – no-pony does. But there was nothing I could do, not for all of them. I could only help one, one special mare. If I was right – if she was right – it might save all of them, eventually.

But the one I was after wasn’t there.

I had to turn away from the slaves and their pleas.

I made sure to have confident grin on my face before I faced my guide. “No, I don’t think any of these ponies are for me. I have… rather exacting standards. Though I am rather impressed by your selection.” Saying it aloud almost made me feel sick. “Could we meet with Mister King now?”

It would be my –” He glanced at his timepiece and stopped, a shadow crossing his features for an instant. He flashed me an apologetic grin. “Unfortunately, as much as I’d love to show you more of this paradise, I have a prior engagement I cannot escape. Miss Blue, would you please escort our dear Miss Abigail to Mister King?”

The blue mare to the administrator's side finished a yawn and leveled a disinterested gaze on me. “Ok, whatever.”

“Goodbye for now, my dear Abigail. I need to run an auction, and when I’m done, I’ll be seeing you later tonight. Until then, my dear.”

I hated being called dear.

Walking back to King’s ‘castle’ was incredibly awkward. Bad enough was having to take in everything that had been so callously introduced to me previously – what really got under my skin was the stifling presence of my blue chaperone. ‘Miss Blue’ walked alongside me as slow as possible. Just fast enough not to elicit a comment, but slow enough that it felt like she was making me literally drag my hooves. I tried to just focus on my destination – it wasn’t as though it was difficult to identify – but it was difficult to concentrate with her incessant gaping yawns every few moments. I was no stranger to awkward silences, but this one was particularly disquieting.

“Thrilling job responsibilities, huh?” I said, trying to illicit some reaction.

She gave me a flat stare for almost a full second before her jaw unhinged once again.

“Dental? You get some killer benefits.”

That got a snort out of her. “Look,” she said, “If it weren’t for you, I’d still be asleep.”

“Well, excuse me,” I said.

“You shoulda pulled your gun back at the palace. Got things over nice and quick. Whitey almost pumped you full of buckshot when you went for it earlier. He shoulda done it anyway, just so I wouldn’t have to tail your boring ass around.”

It took a small effort not to stop dead. “You knew?”

She looked at me as if I were a dullard. “Of course I knew. What’s with you and stupid questions–” She yawned again. “– Anyway, since you’re so fucking dense, you shouldn’t have gotten all friendly with my boss. Just a heads-up, you don’t want to run into him again. He’s gonna fuck you, whether you like it or not. And he’ll make sure you don’t. Like it, that is. Do what you came for with King and get out, got it?”

“Why tell me this,” I asked.

All I got was another yawn. “I hate dealing with this guy. Annoying bastard.”

She brushed past me to stand directly in front of the gigantic, gilded entrance and bucked the door in a crude knock. I had been so distracted I hadn’t even noticed us close the distance.

“They’re expecting you. Don’t make them wake me up again, bitch."

A flash of azure light, and I was standing there alone. She had teleported. I could count on my hooves the number of ponies I knew who could teleport, and that was with this ‘Blue’ on the list – it wasn’t some simple spell just anypony could throw around.

For a lazy pony, she certainly chose an exhausting means of transportation.

The inside of King’s hall was, unsurprisingly, the most glamorous part the the entire establishment. At least, that was what Mr. King probably thought. Really, it was just gold. Lots and lots of gold. Fake gold doors, gold tile floors, a small gold bath, golden bidets… everything that could be painted or plated gold had been. There wasn’t a trace of silver, bronze, or wood finish to be seen. On either side of the door stood a guard, bearing gold-plated armor, standing bored but dutiful. Even their guns had gold plating on them.

The only things in sight that wasn’t gold or gold-ish were the ponies. There were several of his slaves here, fanning their owner or ferrying drinks or attempting to give the impression of lounging about and basking in their owner’s glory. Each and every one of those poor ponies were chained with golden collars, their cutie marks burned away and painted over with the despot’s sigil of a golden crown in their place.

He had made sure the world knew that these mares were his personal property.

A cutie mark was a pony’s identity. It told who they were, showed their special talent and identified their place in the world. It was something prized that no other pony could ever have. They were unique, no two were ever the same, even among twins. To do something so vile as to burn it away was to strip a pony of their identity – the very essence of who they were. The girls in the cages outside had been pathetic… these poor souls were beyond grief.

Shuffling around a square column, my host made himself visible. He was a unicorn, like I was, his coat and mane were dyed gold. He wore a big fluffy robe, also dyed gold. He had blue eyes, and had a slightly plump build. He wasn’t a very fit pony, but I could tell he once had been. He must have killed his way to the top, then got fat on the throne. A throne made of fool’s gold.

“Welcome! Please come in!”

Alright. It’s showtime.

I took off my sunglasses and placed them back into my saddlebags, squinting hard to give my eyes a moment to adjust to the blinding light. I walked past the stallions and towards the tyrant responsible for all of this.

“Welcome to my fine establishment, Miss Abigail!” he continued. “You caught me at the perfect time, I was about to take a bath.”

“The honor is all mine, my king,” I said, grinning, bending into a shallow bow. “I come seeking a certain type of mare. I was told by many that you were the right stallion to go see, so I made haste to come to you.”

The King only smiled. “You’ve come to the right place then, my dear. Just tell me what you desire, and I shall get it for you.”

“I'm looking for mint green unicorn mare,” I told him. I would say more, but if I did he might have gotten the inkling that I’m not just a customer. “Do you have any?”

“Mint green? You have fine taste, Miss Abigail.” King gave a reptilian grin and his eyes flicked towards a side-room. I became aware of the sound of running water – his bath, I assumed. “They're quite sexy little things aren't they? One of the rarest colors, but you are in luck. I have one I was just about to put on the market, a real gem. Shall I get her?”

She’s here after all…! Excitement bloomed in my chest, tingling my words, “Yes, please!”

Well, if everything pans out, I won’t even need to go through with the plan. Ahh, even when the world goes to shit, Celly, the way you do things always triumphs over mine.

Mr. King whispered to one of the ‘gentlecolts’ near him, who quickly scampered off. Scarcely a moment later, he returned with a small figure in tow. My smile died. It was a young girl. A mint green filly with a light purple mane. She turned to me with a genuine smile that could light the world, and introduced herself.

“Hello! I’m Praline!” Her eyes were bright as she looked me over from head to hoof. Her flanks were pure, neither was she wearing a collar or had any sign of bruising from one. It was as if she was virgin to the horrors of this place. I could only assume that she was a ‘recent acquisition.’

“Meet little Miss Praline, Abigail. She’s a real darling, isn’t she? Yes, I’m getting her ready for her big first day at the auction house. Children are very valuable resources, one can mold them into whatever you’d want. I’m sure you understand. Sweet little Praline’s been… a special case for me, I’ve been waiting to put her on the market for some time. You know how certain business deals can be.”

“Wait, market?” Praline innocently asked. “Mister King, am I going to a market to sell something?”

She didn’t know.

“Yes, my dear, precious little Miss Praline. It’ll make sense later, so don’t worry about it, ok?”

Celestia, she didn’t know.

“Umm… ok.” Praline sighed, none the wiser of the subject. “If you say so.” She looked to me, silently asking for some explanation that I couldn’t give her.

“So Miss Abigail, what do you think? As per her age and, if you will indulge the phrase, mint condition, she will be more costly, but I know she’s of a very fine breed and will be a wonderful addition.”

I had the bits. Even at the extortionary price he was likely to ask, I could buy her and my target. Money was no object. But I couldn’t be sure that I could save her – didn’t know if I could keep her safe. If anything went down, she could ruin everything. No, I couldn’t take any risk on this filly.

“No,” I managed. “Thanks.”

“You don’t want her?” King’s beaming smile slipped for an instant. “Pity, you seemed like a mare who was into the young ones. No loss for me. Little Miss Praline, go with my gentlecolt here. He’ll show you that market, ok?”

“Ok!” said little Praline, seeming to brighten at the prospect of something new and exciting. She took the hoof of the stallion who brought her in and trotted off towards the living hell I knew she was headed to.

I couldn’t save her; I couldn’t endanger my mission. I was not a white knight, and certainly not hers. I needed to save my target, because without her there’d be no reason to save Praline. I hoped, one day, if we had ever met again, she would forgive me. My heart hoped whoever did buy her wasn’t a monster – that they would buy her out of pity, or to make her a servant. For most of those slaves, that was the best they could ask for: to live as the help for some wealthy family. But I knew it was a lie. If I was being honest with myself, Praline wouldn’t survive much longer in this world. No matter if I bought her today or not, that child would be dead long before she ever earned her cutie mark.

“I was sure she’d manage a sale before the auction,” said King. “Oh, well, I’ll be making a mint off her delicious minty hide anyway –” he chuckled at his own joke “– so no loss for me. Nonetheless, Miss Abigail, I thought you were looking for a mint green mare… was Praline not to your liking?”

“I wanted an older mare, one closer to my age. I wasn’t looking to buy any children.”

The sound of running water from the room behind King ceased.

“My king,” came a mare’s voice, “your bath is ready.”

A unicorn mare walked in, wearing a silky golden dress that matched her collar, but that wasn’t the detail that caught my eye. It was her coat. She was mint green. Her mane was a bright seafoam, with lots of silver.

It was her.

“Thank you, my dear Lyra.”

It was her. Lyra Heartstrings. Standing right in front of me was the mare I came to rescue.

“Her,” I said.

“Hmm?” questioned King.

I tore my eyes away from Lyra and centered them on King. “That green one, I’d like to buy her. She’s exactly what I’m looking for.”

“You… You want my Lyra?”

“Yes indeed. You said it yourself, ‘mint-green mares are the best,’ and she’s just the type I want.” He did not immediately respond and I dared to hope. “I have plenty of bits, her cost will be no issue. Name your price, Mister King.”

“She is not for sale,” he said after a pause. “Lyra is priceless to me. A mare of many talents. Not only does she have that amazing body, she’s very smart, very talented, and is the only mare I’ve found in years who can play my harp for me. She’s my little golden goose, and I made a pretty hefty deal to keep her.To me, all the wealth of Celestia would only amount to a tenth of my precious Lyra’s value.”

“I understand.” There was nothing else I could do without blowing my cover.

“If you excuse me, I’m going to go take my bath, and my golden goose here will be providing my music for me, among... other services. If you wish to join me, Miss Abigail, I’d be delighted.” He winked. “Afterwards, I’ll show you my cruiser if you wish.”

“No thank you.” I faked a comforting smile.

“What a pity,” He sighed. “My stallions will escort you to the VIP complex with my other valued customers, an exclusive lodge for my most special guests. I hope you enjoy it, Miss Abigail. And remember, you are not to leave the complex without supervision. We wouldn’t want to confuse you with runaway merchandise, now would we?”

It was time to move back to Plan A. Celestia’s way had failed. I had to do things my way.

I took another sip of my drink as I scanned the room filled with my fellow VIPs. The bar in this special “hotel” was passable: the beer was watered down, but the Vodka was surprisingly high-quality. Collared slaves served as barkeeps, with a quartet of slaves in the corner playing some jazzy music. The lights here were almost low enough I could think about removing my shades. Could, was the choice word there.

I managed to pace myself somewhat, but after twenty minutes I was already halfway through my second screwdriver. If a certain stallion took much longer to arrive, I was sure to start considering a third. But my luck came through and my liver was spared: I spied a handsome cream pegasus walk inside with an unmistakable brown cowlick of a mane.

My delicious Pound Cake, about time you got here. I was almost beginning to worry.

I told the barkeep to send the tab to my room, which I had no intention of ever paying, and cut my way through the crowd. I let my shades slide down my nose as I shimmied up beside him, brushing his flanks with my tail. “Hey there, handsome, what wind brings you my way?”

He answered with that irresistible voice of his, “The winds of fortune do, miss beautiful.”

Password check. I bumped into him gently again, a mile-wide smile on my face as my coat and his feathers made contact. I pulled him along with me, shooting a smoky glance with a come hither wiggle of my eyebrows. He stiffened, then responded, if not particularly enthusiastic. But I knew I could change his mind – I always could change a boy’s mind.

It was time for my favorite part of the plan.

In a tangle of limbs, my partner and I collapsed through the door into the bedroom, lips stuck together like glue. The door had offered no resistance once the handle was turned, and we wound up in a pile just beyond the entrance. I gave a playful giggle and rolled over him, then he over me, and I shut the door with my magic. Another flash, and a silencing spell was placed about the room, so no one could hear us.

It had been a simple matter to meet Pound Cake at the bar and convince the ‘staff’ to provide a private room on a temporary basis. Securing a private room was the plan, and Pound, being the good soldier that he was, had been at least willing to follow my lead. So what if I was enjoying myself with the charade of being lovers – I certainly wouldn’t have minded being ‘pounded.’ ‘Beyond the call of duty,’ and all that.

After the flare of my magic, he quickly broke the kiss. I leaned in for round two, but he pulled his head out of reach.

“Good to see you, you delicious Pound Cake,” I said after a very filly-like whine.

We lay there for a moment, me basking in the heat from the furnace that was Pound’s barrel, the flood of warmth so delectable on my neck.

“Um, boss?”

He wasn’t enjoying himself quite as much as me. He damn well should have been. I wondered if it was only because I was his boss. Or was it because I was older than him?

“Spell’s up,” I said. “No one can hear.”

“Good,” he said with a heavy exhale. “Could you please get off me?” He was quick to add, “Boss?”

I grinned devilishly. He may have said one thing, but the tight hold of his wings said otherwise. “Aww, I thought you’d like having a mare on top. Don’t all the girls who fall for you do?”

“Not all the other girls are you.”

The wings against my back pulled me in, I felt the blood rush to my face as Pound pulled me in and rolled us together flat on my back. I tried to instinctively get up, before he kept me pinned with his wings and hooves, a cocky grin over his face.

As soon as the stallion had suppressed his prey, Pound cake took one hoof and removed my sunglasses.

“Even with those contacts tricking my brain, my body tells me that you’re you.”

The stallion leaned in, and pressed his lips against mine...softly, gently, just enough of a taste to make me quiver in excitement.

Oh Celestia, I wanted him. Once again, I had melted like butter in the wings of a young, handsome pegasus.

“There, you finally got me to kiss ya. Happy now boss?”

Not until I drag you into that bed and make the beast with two backs with you, I won’t be.

I couldn’t do anything but have a lovestruck filly’s grin on my face. The cream pegasus cocked a tiny smile on his as I felt his hooves and wings release me.

“Good, now that’s out of the way, let’s get back to business.”

With a single flap, he got off me and landed by my head. His head poked down looking at mine.

“Don’t forget, boss, we’re on a mission. We got a Lyra Heartstrings to save, and we better before Pumpkin and the others kill us for going AWOL. They’re gonna have our heads if we come back empty-hoofed.”

Celestia damn it, he was right. If our situation weren’t so desperate, I’d make him sit back and give him the night of his life. He’d protest at first, but I was already thinking of an number of perverted, delicious ways to make that boy squirm. With no small exertion of will I swatted those salacious thoughts away. Lyra was all that mattered right now. I sighed through my nose and began tried to get up, giving him a pout for good measure before I saw his hoof to help me up.

Once Lyra was safe and sound, then I’d buck this twenty-something’s feather’s off.

“And that’s the story,” I said, sliding a bullet into the first chamber of my revolver. “Apparently, he’s got Lyra Heartstrings as one of his personal slaves. We can’t just go buy her, nor snatch her without causing a scene.”

“Which is why you had me sneak in here yesterday and plant all those charges,” Pound finished assembling his rifle and slung it over his back. He then reached into one of his saddlebags and pulled out a ring shaped device that could fit on a pony’s hoof, along with a scroll that contained the schematics for the entire encampment. “Placed the charges around the hotels, their weapons depot, King’s palace, everything, just like you asked.” Pound showed me with his hoof each of the circled spots on the schematic. “Here’s the detonator, boss. Just push the button to trigger the bombs.”

I took the device, but gave it back to Pound. “No, you and you sister made it, you keep it. Just be sure to give us plenty of time to cover our escape with Heartstrings.”

He smiled. “Especially when I’ve wired their vehicle hanger to blow. It should ensure that there won’t be any pursuits as we make our escape.”

I placed the last bullet into place and slapped the cylinder closed, setting the rest of the bullets that Pound had been so kind to bring into my ammo box. I’d probably be needing them later.

“We just need to secure Lyra,” I said. “So, what about her, Pound? What have you found?”

“From what I’ve gathered, King gave Heartstrings her own room, right here, which she heads to in the down-hours.” Pound indicated where on the map. “She’s probably there right now. We get her, then we head towards the exit here, it’s the only spot on the compound where the fence and the compound meet. We just blow a hole there and head outside and get out of here. All we need to do is convince her that it’s safe to leave King, by force if we have to.”

“We won’t be needing to resort to force. Leave Lyra to me, Pound. I’ll get her going.” With my telekinesis I pulled out a grubby bundle wrapped in cloth. “I’ve watched the skies for a long time, Pound. All you need to do is drop a breadcrumb, and the birds will always follow.”

Getting to Heartstring’s room was easier than I had expected. The two guards by her door were effortlessly dispatched, then stuffed into a closet. I left Pound to guard the door while I used the guard’s key and went in. I saw Lyra Heartstrings, sitting next to a dresser with a single mirror, a knife, and a empty bottle of vodka. She looked up at the the sound of my entrance, her eyes dull, framed in red.

“Whatta ya want?” Lyra slurred. She had obviously been drinking. “Wasn’t King satisfied? He said he wouldn’t want me for the rest of the day.”

“Which is exactly why I came now.” I shut the door behind me and took a few steps in, maintaining my distance. “I wanted some privacy with you.”

“Oh, is that what you’re here for? Look, I don’t…” she lifted the knife with her magic, looked at it for a moment, then set it back down, her whole body sagging. “Fine. Just make it quick.”

“I’m here to save you,” I said.

She exhaled sharply in a kind of weak laugh. “You’re a little late for that. Why are you here, really?”

“I’d set up a silencing spell so nopony could hear us, but my partner kinda needs to warn me in case there’s trouble. I need your help, Lyra.”

“Help? There’s a laugh. What help do you want from a whore? Or is it the the worthless harpist you’re after?” She pointed to where her cutie mark used to be. “I hate harps. Never touched one until he forced me to. Only thing I could do to save my… Why the buck am I telling you any of this? Just do whatever you came here for.”

I slung my saddlebag off and began rummaging in it. “I came here to save you. I’ve been looking everywhere for you, Miss Heartstrings.”

That got her attention. “Wait… how in Tartarus do you know my last name? I never told anypony here what it was.”

“Because I’m not from here.” From my satchel I pulled out an object wrapped in cloth and began to unfurl it with my hooves. “I’m from someplace much safer. I came here looking specifically for you. I need your help.”

As she watched me, a tiny spark of life flashed in her eyes. Her ears were forward, engaged. Interested.

“Years ago,” I said, “before the princesses died, you created a replica of Princess Sparkle’s magic mirror. A mirror which you claimed was a portal to another world populated with creatures called humans.”

“Oh, you make it sound so fantastic, like I’m the hero of a story,” she barked back at me. “You forgot the part where I was arrested for stealing her mirror and thrown into the loony bin for it. I spent a year in Baltimare sanitarium until, well, until everything went to hell. I had a front-row seat to the end of the world, you know. I saw the flash that destroyed everything I had, and everyone that I loved. I had to… I had to kill... to escape, when the doctors abandoned...”

Lyra stumbled over her words, and stopped. The moment she saw what I cradled in my hooves, her eyes widened in shock.

“Is that… it can’t be... ”

“Yes,” I said. “A piece of the magic mirror you tried to make, over 15 years ago. It’s taken me a long time to assemble the pieces. Lyra, the human world you heard about wasn’t as fake as your doctors tried to convince you. The mirror did work, just not in the way you thought it would, and not to the world you assumed it would.”

“Who… Who are you?”

“My name is Abigail, short for Anewa Gale. I was the personal bodyguard to Princess Celestia, back when she was alive, and led the unit of soldiers tasked with her personal protection. Lyra, I’ve come to take you away from here because you are the only mare left alive who knows how to use the mirror that Princess Sparkle created to travel into that alternate world of humans.

“I found her mirror and I found yours. Using your fragments, I managed to reconstruct Twilight’s mirror into a complete form… but we, my allies and I, can’t use it. We don’t know how. You, on the other hoof, do. Lyra, you are the only pony left in Equestria who does. That's why I need you. I need you to make the mirror work.”

“You’re insane.” The sentence was flat, and I wasn’t quite sure how to answer it.

“You’re far from the first person who’s called me that. I’m not too far mad though, or I wouldn’t be where I am right now. Maybe I am completely out of my mind, but I’m still a better kind of insane than those put that collar on you and what’s left of the world.”

“‘Better’? What do you know about ‘better!’ You’re on a deluded mission to save the world, oh, that’s so much better! Did Celestia task you with that noble quest before she was vaporized? ‘Oh, Abby,’ – if that’s really your name – ‘Abby, if I die, you have to go to the humans through the mirror, they’ll save everything!’ So here you are, the loyal little pet, squirming your way through the ashes to find me, of all the ponies. Me, the whored, faded, fucked-up Lyra Heartstrings, the most important mare in the world because she’s just fucking crazy enough to know about a fucking portal in a fucking mirror!

“I’ve prayed that someone would save me, for years I prayed someone would comfort me, tell me things will get better, save me from this nightmare, tell me that my Bon-Bon was still there… but no one ever did. Every day I felt a another part of me die, because I knew things would never be better, there’s nothing left for me anymore, and there never was!”

Lyra was shouting through tears. She pulled herself towards me and, heavily, struck a hoof across my face. I let it land with a thick smack. It stung.

“So why? Why are you here?! Why here?! Why now?! There’s nothing for me anymore, and here you show up, just insane enough to give me hope when I can’t stand to have hope anymore!” She slumped to the ground, her anger spent, quiet sobs wracking her body.

“Equestria is dying,” I said. This was the speech I had been practicing. It had to be perfect. “Equestria is dying, but I can save it. That other world, it contains the resources we need to rebuild Equestria. There is even a certain unicorn there who has the ability to raise the sun, the sun we haven’t seen in fifteen years. I won’t lie, it’s just a shimmer of hope, but it is the only hope Equestria has, and I won’t let it go. I can make it happen. You can make it happen. I can save Equestria, but I need you in order to do it. There is hope that things can become better, and we have to take it. Come with me, Lyra, and if you do I promise that you will see the sun rise once again. ”

“The sun,” she breathed. She pulled her legs underneath her and brought herself up to sitting, eyes on the mirror. “I’ll do it, but not for your precious sun.”

Good enough. “All I care about is that you do it. Now come on, we need to get out of here. We’re pushing our –”

“I need you to save my daughter.”

“Done. Once we’re out of here, I’ll –”

“No,” she said, her eyes flaring and looking directly at me for once. “Tonight. Now. She’s here. King… King’s going to sell her to someone just as fucked up as him, if he hasn’t already. She… she’s all I have left. Without her...”

I bristled, reaching out a hoof and grabbing her by the withers, pulling her towards the door. "We don't have time for this. Once you're safe we'll –"

“She is the only thing you have time for.”

Her magic seized the knife again, sending it flying towards us. I reacted instantly, spinning opposite her, and lifting a hoof, moving to strike precisely… I froze as the knife stopped immediately against her throat.

“My daughter,” she repeated, “or nothing.”

I looked at the table again. The booze. The knife.

“You were going to kill yourself,” I said.

Lyra laughed. It was a sick laugh, dripping with spite for all the world. The knife pricked, and a small bead of red began to gather at the point. “How can I live knowing that I will never see my daughter again? Knowing that she’s either dead or a pedophile’s sex toy?”

Possessed eyes bore into my soul. Staring at me, never once blinking or wavering.

“Tell me, ‘Abi’, what’s the point of anything, knowing that’s the fate of the only pony I have left?”

I closed my eyes in frustration. There wasn’t going to be a debate. “Your daughter, fine. We’ll get her first.”

The knife lowered, slowly.

“I’ll be honest,” she said, “I think you’re fucking nuts, but you must be serious if you’ve gone so far to find my mirror. If you can get my daughter out of here and somewhere safe, I’ll humor whatever madness you’re steeped in. If you’re right by some stray chance, I get to send my daughter to paradise. Those are my only conditions. Are we clear?”

“Crystal.”

“Good.”

“What’s her name?” I asked. “Where is she?”

“Praline,” she said. “Her name is Praline. She’s at the auction house, she’ll be sold any time now.”

I remembered the name from the meeting with King. The filly he had first offered, before sending her to the market when I had declined. I hid my reaction.

“She’s just a kid,” Lyra continued. “She doesn’t even have a cutie mark yet. She’s got light purple mane and a coat like mine.” Lyra took a pocket watch with a what seemed like a lyre engraved on one side and a piece of candy engraved onto the other. “Show her this and tell her it was from mommy, and she’ll go with you.”

I took it, and placed it in my satchel. Lyra picked up the mirror, looked at it for a moment, then wrapped it back in the cloth using her magic, far more quickly and neatly than I could have managed.

“Thanks,” I said. I hoped it sounded like I meant it. “My partner will take you to safety while I get your daughter.”

"I'm coming with you."

“No, you’re not. You’re drunk, and –”

"–I said I'm getting my daughter back. I'm not leaving without her."

“– And I can’t risk you getting killed in a fight, and if you want your daughter saved, there will very definitely be a fight.” I slid the bag back over me and went towards the door, Lyra close behind. “I’ll get your daughter.”

“Fine. You had better,” she said, coldly.

I thought about the knife that I had slipped unnoticed into my bag. Two soft knocks on the door, and I heard Pound’s grunt of acknowledgement.

“Pound, we clear?”

“Clear, boss.”

I opened the door and kept walking, Lyra staying close and Pound knowing to follow.

“Pound, Lyra Heartstrings. Lyra, Pound Cake.”

“Charmed,” Pound Cake said.

“Pound,” I said, “stay with Heartstrings and bring her to the rendezvous point. Plans have changed. She’s got a daughter here, and she won’t leave without her.” I pulled away slightly from Lyra, just far enough that she couldn’t hear. “If I things go wrong, you have only one goal: get her back to the others and keep her safe. Make sure she doesn’t kill herself. Everything depends on her, don’t forget that. Soldier, do you understand?”

He nodded. “Yes ma’am.”

“Lyra,” I said, louder, “stick with Pound. He’ll keep you safe and get you where you need to go. I’ll meet you soon with your daughter.”

She watched me leave, eyes daring to hope. I tried to ignore her sentiment.

I set off to where I knew Praline had been taken.

Having been too late to collect the filly at the market, it had been a simple matter of making a few flirtatious inquiries to track down the buyer at his suite: a larger and much better-furnished room than the one Pound and I had been offered. The door was barred and guarded by two ponies. Muffled shouts and a young filly’s scream came from inside the room.

My time was up.

“He better shut that bitch’s trap.” I overheard one of the guards say as the the other one chuckled, “She’s got a big fucking mouth. I swear it’s killing me.”

Trust me, her scream’s not gonna be what kills you.

“Hey, that’s why he bought her. She’s got a big mouth on a small small body. ‘Sides, he’ll plug that –”

The two guards ended their chit-chat and straightened when they saw me approach. I put on a charming smile.

“Is this Mr. Aspen’s place? I heard he purchased something very nice at the auction. Don’t suppose I could slip in and... congratulate him?” I said with a wink.

“We’re to permit no one until he says otherwise. Mr. Aspen wants some alone time with his new toy, his orders.”

I ‘tsked’ at him. “Oh, that’s too bad.”

With a soft crunch, I plunged my hoof into the guard’s trachea. He collapsed, clutching at his throat. His partner turned, shocked, and his horn lit. Anticipating his reaction, I had already gripped the knife I had stolen from Lyra in my magic, and I tore it from my bag and into his neck. I smashed my rear hooves into his temple for good measure, then pulled the knife free and sent it into the eye socket of the first. It was past the time for subtlety – I was going for speed.

“Because,” I finished, pulling the bloody knife out of him, “that’s the last order he’ll ever give.”

“YOU BITCH! YOU FUCKING LOOK AT ME!” It was loud enough that I could hear the rage through the walls.

With a swell of righteous fury I hadn’t thought I could feel anymore, I whirled my torso about and splintered the door wide with a solid buck.

Backed into the corner, clad in a ripped gold dress and metal collar, was Praline. An adult griffin towered over her sobbing form, his talons clutching the chain attached to the collar. He jerked his head at the sharp crack of the door. He looked afraid and pissed. Only griffins could manage both at the same time without looking ridiculous, I’d always thought.

“Who the fuck are you?!” he yelled. As he turned, the chain jerked, yanking the filly hard to the floor. “What –” His mouth continued to move, but no words escaped under the silence spell I’d cast. A measure of panic seeped into his eyes, and he clawed at his throat. I charged him.

He saw me coming and dropped the chain, stooping into a low stance, wings spread and a claw raised high. He was so fixated on me he didn’t even notice the knife until I embedded it high above his clavicle, spearing deep into his chest. As his body contracted at the spark of pain, I closed the remaining distance and, aided with a burst of telekinesis, kicked him hard enough to send him against the wall like a heap of wet rags. I grabbed the body with my magic and threw it behind the bed, hopefully where Praline couldn’t see, and worked the knife on him several times, just to be sure.

I ended the silence spell, and the emptiness was filled with the terrified whimpers of a filly. I turned to see she hadn’t moved since she was pulled to the floor. She lay there, shaking, the makeup that had been caked on her face now smeared as far down as her dress. I bought myself a few seconds to think by grabbing the corpses in the hallway and stuffing them behind the bed to join their erstwhile employer.

I occupied myself for another few seconds by dimming the lights with my magic. I took of my shades and set them on the dresser, squinting for a moment even against the reduced brightness. With nothing else to be done, I steeled myself and carefully stepped towards the sobbing child.

“Hey, kid?” The sobbing stopped, but she curled up even more tightly about herself. “Look, I’m not gonna hurt you.” I reached out to get a better look at the collar.

“Don’t touch me!” She recoiled and pushed herself a few feet away. “You’re just another one of the bad ponies!”

I sighed and debated the merits of arguing with kid logic. The pocketwatch, I thought. I pulled it free from my bags. “I’m not one of those bad ponies. Look.” She shook her head. “I’m here to help. Look.” Another shake. “Just look. Mommy gave me her watch. See?” She shifted so an eye could just peek without looking like she was looking. Upon seeing the watch, both eyes became fixated on it, and then on me.

“Mommy!” she cried. “That’s mommy’s watch! What did you do to mommy!?”

“She gave it to me. She said you’d trust me if I showed it to you.” She sat, frozen and unsure. “Abigail,” I said, pointing to myself. “My name is Abagail, and I’m here to help.” I lit my horn and she still flinched. Gently, I pried open the latch on the collar and let it fall with a clunk to the floor. “I’m gonna get you and your mommy someplace far away from here. Nopony’s going to hurt you there, I promise.”

She sniveled, thinking it over. Then, very abruptly, she dove forward and hugged me.

“It’s, uh,” I said, awkwardly. I wasn’t exactly familiar with the whole motherly-slash-comforting thing. I figured patting her back fit in there somewhere, so I did, if stiffly. “It’s going to be okay. Okay?” She nodded vigorously, not relenting her hug in the slightest. “O-okay. I’m gonna clean some of that makeup off your face, and then we’ll need to move. Is that okay with you?” Another fit of nodding. “Uh, and we’re kind of in a rush. So, um, look, any time you’re ready to let go...”

It took nearly a full minute, but she finally released me from her unbreakable hug and gave me a sheepish grin, apologetic. Brittle, but honest. I carefully helped her out of the torn dress and proceeded to tear it to rags and use them to wipe down her face and neck, subtly looking her over, making sure she hadn’t been injured – or worse – before I had broken into the room.

It wasn’t until several seconds into the chore that I realized I was using my hooves.

It was such a simple revelation, but it caused me to freeze. Something about cleaning this filly was so important, so precious, that I wasn’t trusting my magic. It felt… right. The sheer purity of feeling my hoof wipe the grime from her coat. Praline noticed my hesitation and opened her eyes to peek. I gave her what I hoped was a reassuring smile before resuming.

I tried convincing myself that it was important that she be presentable: to move through the compound without detection was my priority, and her looking like an utter wreck was the opposite of being inconspicuous. There was also the argument that Lyra shouldn’t first see her daughter in such a state, even if the events would eventually be told to her. If we all survived, anyway. But both of those came up as hollow excuses against what I felt: the only reason I was here saving a child’s life was because the pony I needed would have literally killed themselves if I didn’t. I wasn’t doing any of this because I cared, but because I was forced to. And it felt disgusting.

So what if a single filly lost her innocence? It was a miracle she was as pure as she was, all things considered. In this hellhole of a world, she’d lose it soon enough… but I had only done the same as the monsters I stood against, and pushed her into that darkness for no reason. As much as I tried to justify it, no justification would suffice. Needlessly and worthlessly, I had sacrificed a child. Fate had conspired to fix my mistake and save her anyway, but… what if it hadn’t? Praline would have been...

Celestia… what would she have thought of my choice? I knew the answer, she’d be disgusted with me. She’d say that was an action of the old me, who never cared about a single thing but her own mad desires. Had I become the monster I swore I would never be again? How much of my equinity had I sacrificed in my quest? How much did I needlessly give up? Because the more I thought about it, the more my mind began to think I didn’t need to give up as much as I did. I had taken the easy way out, every single time, drenched in blood.

I jerked in surprise when I felt a hoof against my own face. Praline pulled back quickly, anxious. “I,” she said, “can help clean you too, Miss Abigail.” I looked at the rag and saw it has smears of red on it.

Celestia, I didn’t know I had blood on me the entire time. When I didn’t stop her, she gave my face a few more wipes. I simply sat there, numbed.

“Feeling better?” she asked.

“...Yes, thank you.” No, I was not feeling better at all.

“Mommy taught me to be polite to good ponies.” She thought I was a good pony. It was long time since I had been called a good pony.I did not deserve to be called that.

I just nodded, trying to smile. “Yeah, you’ve got a pretty special mommy.” I quickly reclaimed my shades and moved to the door, trying not to let her see my face. “But I think it’s time we got moving. Follow me, and stay close. And you can’t look happy. If you look happy, they’ll be suspicious and –” I started to say ‘and they’ll kill us,’ but instead I managed, “– then the bad ponies will get us.”

She nodded, and we slipped back into the corridor. It would only be a matter of time until the corpses in my wake were discovered.

“Coast is clear, they’re gone.”

Praline flashed me a relieved smile. “Finally. How much longer do I have to frown?”

“We’re almost there,” I said. “You’re doing great.” It was only a little more until we reached the rendezvous point, a little more before we got to Pound and Lyra, and a little more before we got the buck out of here.

Praline was a very good actor for a young girl her age, playing her part very well. We were making our way through the complex under the pretense that I owned Praline. None of the guards had suspected anything but what I told them.

A cough and a set of hoofsteps around the corner ahead was our cue for another performance. Praline immediately reassumed a look of hopelessness and even conjured up a pair of crocodile tears for show as the steps turned the corner and came into view.

“Oh, hello, my dear Abigail. Such a pleasure to see you again.”

Out of all the ponies I could have ran into, it was him: that bucking administrator. At his sides were the two bodyguards from before, ‘Whitey’ and ‘Blue.’

I instantly plastered a smile across my face for his benefit. “No, the pleasure was all mine.” I ran through the map of the compound in my head, desperately trying to recall alternate escape routes. If I began a fight with those two, I would walk away but Praline wouldn’t. I would have to be careful if I wanted to avoid incident.

“I didn’t see you at the auction, I was very sad that you missed it.” He looked down, and noticed Praline. “I would say you missed out, but it seems you did pick something up after all… I didn’t think I sold that filly to you… I sold her to one of our regulars. In fact, I was off to congratulate him before I met back up with you.”

“Oh, um... yes, well,” I stammered, trying to think of a plausible lie as adrenaline flooded my veins. ‘White’ raised one of his eyebrows. “I visited Mr. Aspen, and we negotiated a… an after deal. She was worth every bit,” I shot him a fake smile. “I’m bringing her to my room right now. I’d love to spend some time with you, but I need to drop off my purchase. If you’ll excuse –”

There was a flash of light as the world erupted, the whole complex shaking violently. Through the hall window, gouts of flame and debris blossomed across the Oasis. Pound had blown the charges way ahead of schedule.

“Fucking idiot!”

The administrator looked at me in shock and confusion – my outburst had given me away. Before he could command his guards to act, I wrapped my hoof around Praline and released a burst of magical energy that sent the two bodyguards and their boss slamming into the walls.

“Praline, run!” I cried.

“After her! She’s stealing the merchandise!” The administrator yelled behind us.

The two bodyguards were quick on their hooves and gave chase as sirens blared all around us. King’s Oasis was going into lockdown. With the Cake twins’ bombs freeing the slaves and setting the Oasis ablaze, the guards would have their dockets full. The slaves would be running for freedom or rioting after their corrals blew open, and the guards would be too busy putting out the flames crawling over the complex to deal with the stampeding equine exodus. All I had to do was avoid getting caught up in that chaos while making a hasty escape with Lyra’s filly in tow.

The door in front of me was closing. Gathering magic into a concentrated wedge in front of me, I rammed the door at full force and smashed it open, knocking the unfortunate pony on the other side out cold. I slammed the door shut, locked it, and continued running as the administrator’s bodyguards crashed into the door.

I had bought us a few seconds at most.

“Praline, keep moving!” I yelled. Before our limbs got moving again, a second set of charges detonated.

Praline yelped and fell to the floor as the tremor knocked her off her hooves. I helped her back up and we resumed our escape. There was a resounding crash from behind as we turned the corner. Barely missing our tails, a large panel of broken door hurtled through the air right behind us and slammed into the wall.

“Crap!” They weren’t messing around if they could spend that kind of energy just to break down a door.

I heard the gallop of a single pony and the wings of a griffin. They were faster than us; I needed to even the odds. I saw a pair of double doors at the end of the hall, flanked by two windows on each wall. I ripped the doors off their hinges as we passed through, returned them to their frame, and held them in place with magic. Attuned through magic, the doors felt as if they were a part of me. I began counting as I ran: Four… three… two…

I sprung the trap as I felt a claw scraping wood. Instead of giving way, the double doors burst open.

Glass shattered and screams were heard in stereo. Two ‘thud’s outside heralded the triumph of the trap. With the bodyguards out of the picture for the moment, I refocused on getting to the rendezvous point.

“Praline, we need to get to the bottom floor. Which way is the staircase?”

“This way!”

Praline led me through the complex and down the nearby stairs. There were no more pursuers as we trotted down the ground-floor hallway. “Finally,” I sighed as we arrived at the rendezvous point. I pushed the doors open, and was greeted by a company of King’s grunts They shouted a dozen variants of ‘show me your hooves’ and ‘get on the ground,’ as they collectively trained all of their guns on me.

Shit! I grabbed Praline throwing our bodies low. I turned, to run back the way we had come, only get a glimpse of a gun as it discharged into my face. Something clamped onto my horn, the sheer force of the blow sent me right to the ground. I screamed as my magic sparked against the device on my horn, every ounce of my magic being torn out of my soul.

“Aaaaand that’s game,” I heard, followed by a yawn.

I had been hit with a magic suppression device. I felt the last of my magic vanish fully as I laid on the ground, paralyzed from the surge of pain. I've used these devices before, but never been on the receiving end. It had been agony. From the corner of my vision, I saw blue hooves among the guards, with a mint green pony down on the ground with a muzzle on her mouth and a magic suppression device on her horn. I felt my body begin to regain some strength, but, as I tried to force myself up, a griffin’s talons pressed against my head, keeping me down.

“Good shot, Whitey.”

“A predator doesn’t miss, Blue.”

Blue sighed. “Of course they don’t.”

My eyes, from my limited viewpoint, scanned my surroundings to see what I was up against. With the loss of my magic, I was in a lot of trouble. Worse, Pound Cake was nowhere in the room. There were seven guards, Praline, Lyra, and myself on the ground… but no Pound.

“Mommy!” Praline yelled as she burst past us. I twisted my head to see her sprint to her mother’s side and begin tugging on the straps to the muzzle over Lyra’s face.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” said Blue. One of the guards shifted and prodded Praline with his rifle. Praline whimpered and backed away. “Your mother was quite talkative. Had to muzzle the bitch. Unless you want one on your face, kid, I suggest you shut up and stay that way.”

Praline continued to retreat until she hit the wall. Her eyes darted about the room, flitting to me, then to the griffin holding me down.

“You! But… we outran you!… How?”

“If you thought we’d break our pursuit and give up when you sent us out the windows, you really are more foolish than I thought, chickadee.” I could hear the griffin’s toothy smirk. “Besides, even if we did let you run out of our complex, you’d be far from home free. We’ve got a hovercraft right outside with its guns on this room. Even if you ponies even tried to jump out, you’d be hitting the floor dead.”

“This part of the complex is the only place where the outside wall and the complex merge,” Blue took over , “which is a horrible design flaw, by the way, but it means if you're trying to escape this is the easiest place. And since you bucking idiots are idiots, it didn’t take much to realize you were heading here. So instead of running, I decided grab some extra guards and teleport here while Whitey tailed you. And seriously, you –” She interrupted herself with a yawn, then lowered her head to lock eyes with me. “Can you please fucking tell me what was the fucking point of you four wasting my time like this? I could have been sleeping if it wasn’t for you four. No wonder why I killed your friend.”

Killed?

“Wait, four?” The griffin towering above me asked.

Fuck! Pound Cake!

“Blue, there’s four of them?!”

“Oh... well, yeah, there was four of them," Blue explained, "but I killed her pegasus friend, so it’s three now. When I teleported there I found Mister King’s girl and the pegasus trying to escape, so like, when he tried to fly away I shot him out of the sky. I didn’t see any thing fly away after, so I figure he’s like dead or something, I…" Blue yawned. "Whatever, I couldn’t really give a fuck.”

I turned to see a broken window in the room, blood dripping down the broken glass. Pound Cake… did she really kill him?

“You didn’t check? You didn’t check?!” The pressure against my skull doubled. “Why the hell didn’t you make sure he’s dead?! ”

She gave a frustrated snort. “Look, I shot the bastard out of the sky. I’m pretty fucking sure he wasn’t moving when I last saw him. I did enough of my job, so give it a fucking rest, ok?”

“Why didn’t you just order one of them to… gah.” He gave a frustrated snort. Something told me this wasn’t the first time they’d had this conversation. “...Fine.”

“Thank you.” she said, victorious. “Oh, by the way...” I felt a magic aura surround me – without my own magic, I was powerless to stop her. The griffin got off me as I was lifted off the floor by a blue aura that turned me to face her.

“You," Blue hissed. "You made me run. Fuck the whole trying-to-blow-up-the-Oasis thing, I haven’t had to run in over a year, and you fucking made me. And then you threw me out of a fucking window.

“So fuck you!” She hurled me against the wall.

“Fuck you up the ass!” Again. Everything went bright.

“Fuck you down the mouth!” A third time.

“And fuck you, uhh…” she stopped, dangling me in the air. “...Everywhere else I can’t think of!” My head smashed into the wall for a fourth time before slowly sliding down the wall.

Reeling from the trauma, I clung onto the nearby windowsill to stop from sinking down to the floor again. With a moment to breathe, I tried to think about my situation. Pound Cake and my magic were my two trump cards I that could handle any situation with, and both were gone. Even if I somehow managed to find a way out, I’d have to deal with the hovercraft waiting to gun me down outside.

My eyes tried to squint from the brightness of the ceiling lights. I turned back towards the wall, the light at my back.

Damnit, my shades. Celestia-damned pre-ruin lights, so bright...

I heard the sounds of the double doors, but kept my head towards the window outside to shield my eyes from that blinding light above me. I heard voices, but didn’t pay attention to them, and instead took the time fate had given to me to examine the hovercraft outside, searching and hoping that I’d find a weakness of some sort that I could exploit. It looked burnt and damaged from Pound Cake’s explosives, but still running. It was funny, I couldn’t even hear it running. There were two guards inside it, both of them not looking at us, but seemingly distracted by something above them. Something familiar...

...Is that…? My eyes caught a cream-coloured blur fly by the hovercraft outside, what seemed like a raptor swooped down and picked up a guard and carried him out of my view. The other guard drew his gun but before he could use it, a now red and cream pegasus descended on the remaining guard inside the hovercraft to do the same to…

Pound Cake! That lazy bitch really didn’t confirm her kill.

Pound Cake was alive and, from what it looked, was fighting the ponies outside to ensure we had a way out, or knowing how he and his sister liked to do things, blow a way out. I looked out the window and despite our distance, the two of us made eye contact.

I needed to stall – give him time. Nothing but a shimmer of hope, but it was the only hope, the only chance we had to escape.

I felt a hoof grabbing my tail and yanking me backwards. I stutter-stepped against the pull, barely keeping my balance, and turned to find the administrator there.

“Hello again, Miss Abigail.” He kicked hard into my barrel, causing me to double over, gasping. “You could have had a great time here, you know, but you fucked it up. It’s a shame such a beauty like yourself has to be such a worthless bitch. When Mister King gets out from his panic room he will be quite unhappy when he finds out about you and your friend trying to steal his favorite pet.

“But I’ll let you in on a little secret,” he leaned in close and stage-whispered into my ear, “he’s not the one you need to be scared about. It’s me.”

His knee slammed into my gut. My legs gave out, eliciting a chuckle from his goons as I hit the floor. “Mister King may own this patch of dirt, but I’m the one who took this shithole and made something out of it.” Another kick, this time to my head. “You think you can fuck with me?” Another. “You think you can fuck with what I spent years creating?!”

He grabbed my head with his hoof to force our eyes to lock. The bright lights once again beamed into my eyes, making them water.

”Oh… are the lights too bright in here for you?” he sneered at me. He looked away, saw something, and chuckled. “You need these in here, don’t you?” An evil gleam passed his face as he tilted my head to show me my own dislodged shades, cracked from the slam into the wall earlier. I looked back to him.

“Too fucking bad.”

He grabbed me by the side of my head and smashed me into the ground, directly into my shades, shattering them. He held my head into the mess. “You’re going to regret fucking with me. And I’m gonna make sure you scream through all of it.”

He finally let go of my head as I reeled in pain on top of my broken sunglasses. I could feel little drops of blood from the side of my head.

“Now get up.”

I said nothing. I had to hold out as long as possible in this room. Once he ordered his goons to take us away, it would be the end of everything. I had to do everything I could to delay that order. I had to give Pound time.

“I said get up!”

Each second I stalled meant a better chance of getting out alive. I faked my first attempt to get up, then halfway through feigned weakness and fell back down on my hooves. I heard a few chuckles around me.

Come on, Pound, hurry up!

“Stop playing games. Get up!”

“I think I’d rather stay on the floor. I’m kinda tired.”

He stormed over to one of his goons and yanked a giant metal tube from his grasp. It didn’t take a genius to recognize a rocket launcher. Instead of aiming it at me, he held it like a club.

“You need a rocket launcher to intimidate me? Wow, you really must be compensating for something.”

“You think you’re fucking funny huh?!”

The weapon swung, and it was all I could do to take the blow in the shoulder. I had hoped I had gotten a reply, a snark, a laugh, but instead, nothing but rage.

“I hope you enjoyed that one, cause it’s the last joke you’re ever going to tell! You, hold her, pull out her tongue,” he barked. “Blue, give me your fucking knife.”

The guard grabbed me, the griffin goon holding my mouth open while Blue floated the administrator her knife.

“Believe me, Miss Abigail, you’re going to wish I killed you right now. I have a special thing in mind to do to troublesome mares like you. But first, I’m going to take that tongue of yours. It’s a pity, too – you could have made good use of that tongue.”

I heard the sounds of a hovercraft.

“Any last words?”

I closed my eyes. The hovercraft was getting closer, louder. He’s going to ram us, I thought, that crazy son of a bitch.

I chose my last words carefully.

“LYRA! INCOMING!”

I bucked with all my might and shook the guard pinning me me and rolled to my side. In the corner of my eye I saw Lyra grab Praline and dodge to the opposite side, just in time for the hovercraft outside to smash through the wall at full speed, Pound Cake at the helm of the craft bowling over the guards in its path of destruction.

Pound Cake lived up to being Pinkie Pie’s honorary nephew. The mad pony had blown through the wall as I expected, but with the entire vehicle he commandeered. The administrator himself only had a second to look before a rampaging hovercraft sent him flying into the wall. The broken wall fell and crushed three of the guards, knocking everypony else in the room who was still standing off their hooves. Powersliding the vehicle like only a honorary Pie could, he smashed the hovercraft into the white griffin and the blue mare as the hovercraft slid into the opposite wall, the two bodyguards breaking through the wall upon impact.

The two remaining guards got back on their hooves to try to fire at Pound Cake and his hovercraft of doom, but by the time they started to take aim Pound Cake was one step ahead of them and shot the first guard square in the head with his rifle. He pumped the lever and fired a second time, striking the second guard in the chest. It gave me more then enough time for me to finish him off as I grabbed the blue mare’s knife off the floor with my mouth and slashed second guard’s throat. He collapsed in a bloody heap.

“Boss! Lyra! Quickly!” Pound waved at us to get in. We wasted no time. Lyra helped Praline in the hovercraft, followed by Lyra and then myself.

“Punch it!” With the order given, Pound slammed the throttle open and the engine began to roar back to life.

“You bastards!” Behind us, stood Blue, covered in her own blood. Murder and rage were in her eyes. It took being smashed through a wall by a hovercraft to finally get her motivated.

She seized the rocket launcher on the ground in her magic and heaved it towards herself, taking aim on our ponderously-accelerating craft. This mare no longer cared if she got caught in the blast. She wanted us dead, and was going to blow us all up to do so. There was no room to maneuver, no way to dodge, and no magic to stop it.

Over the roaring turbines, I could hear Blue shriek, “DIE!”

We had only a single moment before she pulled the trigger and blew us all up. In the single split second I that had, I reached into my duster and drew my hoofgun. I didn’t even have time to think about aiming. It was pure instinct. I took the shot. The rocket detonated in her face just as we burst through the hole Pound had created. I pulled Lyra and Praline down, taking cover as the hovercraft hurtled out of the complex and out into the desert plain.

Now in the clear, Pound pumped the throttle to maximum and sped off. I reached inside the floor of the hovercraft and grabbed Pound’s rifle to fight off the enemy contact. I scanned left and right, and saw no incoming crafts nor any incoming pegasi as we sped away. I knew it wouldn’t last. Taking aim at the burning complex, I went down the rifle’s scope and trained my eye on where we had escaped. That white griffin should be bursting out of the hole we had escaped from any moment now. If the blue mare survived getting hit with a hovercraft, he had to as well.

But there was nothing moving at all in the burning hole left from our escape. I watched the section of the compound we had escaped from collapse thanks to the destruction inside it. Nothing else would be coming from there. I pulled away from the sights and turned to see the main gate I came through. The entrance was wide open with a stream of ponies flooding out from the complex. I went back down to the aim to begin the process of killing our pursuers, only to realize they weren’t enemy contacts, but they were the slaves who saw their chance at freedom and were taking it. A couple of them were covered in red. It seems they did a little payback on their captors on the way out. Things must really be going to Tartarus if they haven’t gotten the slaves under control. It was that, or they were going to take to the air to gun down the escapees they couldn’t corral.

I lowered the rifle scope and looked up – as predicted, there were ponies in the air above us. A good seven of them flying around. Two griffins, three pegasi, and two bat ponies. I quickly raised my rifle and drew a bead on the first one, a bat pony mare. I tried to steady my aim to shoot her out of the sky while I still had the element of surprise on my side.

My aim steadied on my target and was about to fire… but I took my hoof off the trigger, and took my aim off the pony. She, and the others in the sky weren’t there for me, nor for the slaves below. The seven of them were flying around in a panic, desperately trying to gather and form rainclouds from a near-empty sky, in some attempt to douse the flames and save their ‘oasis’. It amazed me that they still hadn’t put the fires out that Pound and I started, but I suppose with the chaos we created, anything they tried to do wouldn't be done very fast. watched the pony gather another cloud and dart back towards the oasis.

As it seemed, we had been completely ignored. But I knew that couldn’t be.

Who else could come after us? I thought. There was the white griffin bodyguard. He might have survived getting slammed by a hovercraft, smashed through a wall, probably within the blast radius of the explosion, and then that whole area collapsing…

The more I thought about it, the more I wasn’t sure if he survived the blast or not. And if he couldn’t, that adminstrator couldn’t have either, nor anyone else there… and if anypony else knew about our improvised escape they would have sent something at us, and there’s nothing.

From all it seemed, we were all alone. We had successfully escaped with our lives and completed our mission, but I couldn’t accept it. I refused to accept that we had gotten away that easy. Adrenaline still pumped through my veins as I kept my eye down the sights of Pound’s rifle, waiting for enemy contact. I waited, even after the complex and its smoke had long vanished from view.

I felt a hoof on me. So caught up looking around me, I nearly fumbled the rifle.

“They’re not following.” Lyra said.

I turned around, and there Lyra was. A smile on her face and life in her eyes. Lyra laid down beside me.

“They have to,” I replied. “Someone’s got to be following us.”

“Look, I know King. He’s probably in his panic room or his cruiser. He’s not going to check anything, including where I am, until his oasis is in no longer in danger and order is restored there. Only then he’ll send out a search party, and only if he didn’t think I died in the explosions.”

Did I really...

I brought my eye back to the scope for another minute, doing another scan of a the dim, hazy dusk behind us. I took a deep breath, and put the gun down.

I did it...

Adrenaline left me instantly, and I nearly collapsed in its absence. I laid down on the back of the hovercraft, as every injury in my body hit me at once. Needless to say, everything hurt.

Everything but my spirit.

I had done it. I saved Lyra Heartstrings.I had broken into one of the most dangerous areas of Equestria and rescued the single mare I needed to save the world.

“Ack! you’re bleeding!”

Praline interrupted my thoughts as they turned to Pound Cake. We all looked down and saw blood beginning to leak from bandages wrapped around his side.

Pound just sighed. “Dangit, I thought that’d stop the bleeding longer. That –” Pound glanced at Praline and censored himself “– that blue unicorn shot me. But I’ll be ok, I just need to properly bandage it up for now. Boss, you mind taking the wheel?”

As much as my body didn’t want to move, I didn’t want my delicious Pound Cake bleeding out while driving.

“I’ll get it.” This came from Lyra. She turned to me. "I know how to drive this thing.”

“You do, mom?“

Lyra smiled as she took the wheel from Pound Cake “I sure do. Who do you think built this hovercraft?”

Praline basked in the pride of having a smart mother.

“Now why don’t you be a dear and help Mister Pound with his bandages?”

“I can –” I began before Praline drowned out my protest with a loud “Okay!”

Before I could say another word, Lyra turned to me. “You go rest, Anewa. I may not be a nurse, but I’m pretty sure you need to rest after you’ve been beaten, bludgeoned, and getting your magic silenced.”

“Repeatedly,” I added. ”Bludgeoned repeatedly.”

We both chuckled. “Exactly. So leave it to me, and leave Mister Pound to my daughter. Okay?”

I didn’t have much of a choice. Thank goodness. “Okay.”

“Okay!” Praline said as she began her orders with a smile.She had a mile wide smile, just like her mother. A pair of smiles that would have been lost forever If I had done nothing.

Celestia. I wondered what she’d think of all this.

“Hey, Anewa? …Thank you.” Lyra said to me. “I… don’t know what to say… but I guess just, thank you. I really didn’t think you could do it. I’m sorry for how I acted earlier, he’s had me in there for so long, done so much to me, I had given up all hope of ever being free again. Thank you for saving us. I owe you so much more than I could ever repay for saving my daughter. If I wasn’t driving this thing, I’d hug you right now.”

I chuckled. “If it’s any consolation, if I wasn’t so dead exhausted, I’d hug you too.”

I looked over to Praline – this child I saved – and saw her flank wiggling as she and Pound Cake tried to open the storage compartment inside the hovercraft. After failing with their hooves, she finally resorted to using magic while Pound was pulling. The compartment popped open, along with half the contents inside of it. They immediately went to work trying to find some bandages within the mess.

“So, you really think you can fix the world, Anewa?” Lyra’s voice interrupted my thoughts.

I shrugged. “I’m not the one who’s going to be doing the fixing. I’m just the messenger. “

“Well, I’d say it fits. You’re a real agent of Celestia, you know that? To pull off something crazy like this, that mare has to be watching over you.”

I gave her a smile back to that. I would have answered, but I heard Praline call me.

“Miss Abigail! Miss Abigail!” Shouted Praline at full volume as she moved straight in front of me like a lighting bolt. “I found something for you! Mr. Pound told me to give this to you!”

“Huh? A package?”

Her orange magical aura floated over a small package to me from the pile she and Pound Cake created. I looked to Pound Cake to see him with a childish smile on par with Praline’s. “Consider it thanks, boss. Ya earned it.”

I took the package in my hooves. It was a unopened pack of cigars. Premium, first rate cigars. My favorite brand, too. I had no choice but to laugh.

Maybe you’re here watching over us after all. How else could you know to have those cigars there? Heh. You always did work in mysterious ways, Celestia, always dropping me breadcrumbs to let me know I did things right. I suppose I’m on the right track, if you’re giving me breadcrumbs like these.

“I love them, Praline. Thank you.”

Before I knew it, Praline wrapped her hooves around me in a tight hug.

“Thank you for saving me and Mommy!”

My own hooves folded around her as I melted into the little filly’s hug. She was happy… and so was I.

I think I’m ready to finally find your Sunset.She’s there, in the human world. It’s been so long since she’s been here, but I know you’ll provide what we need to pull us through. I will make your sun rise once more.

Sunset Shimmer, she’s our only shimmer of hope… but with you guiding us, she’s all we need.

“C’mon, let’s head home. There’s a sun we need to raise.”

Author's Note

Shimmer of Hope -The End-

God, it feels good to say those words. The End. The first time I had a chance to say that in a long, long time. This one took a long time to say "the end", but I am so happy I did.

If I continue this or not, is another story. But it's something time will tell, and in what shape or form. Like said, questions for the future. Speaking of, if you've taken the time to read this, tell me what you think. I love to hear feedback, did you like Shimmer of Hope?

And lastly, and most important, thanks to the people who helped make this story possible.

Yellow Sub Zero, Calico, everyone who helped me out, thank you so much for helping me with this. I, really appreciate your help.

And Kwirky, the awesome KwirkyJ, I couldn't have done this without you. Not a joke either, I honestly don't think I would have finished that version for the contest in time, and neither would this story be here without you. It... means a whole lot to me that you took all this time to help me. I am in your debt.
Thank you.