I stood across the street, my eyes shifting to the piece of paper in my hand. It had her address written on it. Looking back at the house, I confirmed that it was, indeed, the home of Octavia Melody and her roommate. Though, that hasn't stopped me rechecking incessantly to confirm it over and over again. Why the hell won't my legs just carry me over to the door. All I have to do is walk up, knock, and apologize.

"Hi Tavi." No, that's to informal for what I've done. "Greetings Octavia." No. Just no. "Maybe just 'hello'?" I asked myself. "Why is it that I can face the barrel of a gun just fine, but I can't work up the backbone to talk to my ex?" Looking both ways, I observed my surroundings. I was on a street closer to the edge of town. There were not many houses through here. Including Octavia's, maybe six. The traffic was light on this road, most people taking the day off after what happened yesterday. Hell, I would take the day off, too.

Shifting my weight to my other foot, I looked back down at the address. I looked back up, lifted my foot, and preceded to walk towards the market. How long was I standing there? It had to be at least forty minutes. Damn I must have looked creepy as fuck. Just standing there and staring at somebody's house for the better part of an hour.

As I got closer to the market, I began to hear something. It started as a quiet buzzing, but it escalated into the sound of roaring flames. Then the screams came. There were two people screaming. I saw the crowd, not the crowd in the market, but another crowd began to form in my vision. I could still see the market, but the image was still there, like it was burned into my eyes, much like a TV.

I ran up to the rear of the crowd. I could see the woman tied to the burning stake. She was begging them to stop. I pushed my way through the crowd. Their words turned on me, condemning me for being a bounty hunter. Rocks were thrown, but they bounced off my armor, none were big enough to be noticeable. I was getting close to the front of the crowd when I saw him. A boy, no older then nine, tied to the stake with his mother.

I stopped walking towards the market and promptly moved into a nearby alley. "No. No no no no." I grabbed both sides of my head as the images threatened to return. "NO!" I shouted as the second burning stake took form. I began trying to think of something else. Something happier. Something lighter. Anything. Anything but that. I dropped to my knees and closed my eyes.

I opened my eyes to the sight of a West Canterlot alley. It was dirty, but empty. I rose to my feet and dusted off my knees. I was wearing my black trench coat. I smiled as I adjusted the cuffs. It was a present from my girlfriend. She gave it to me when I joined the Coalition. Looking back up, I studied the alley.

"There's nothing here." I spoke as I turned to face my analyzer. He was a Zepharin man. His dark skin marked with faint black stripes tattooed over his body below his neck. The man's head was shaved, and his armor was a bright white. He never wears his helmet, despite the protection it provides.

"Sure there is." A deep, thick accent flowed from his lips. He raised a hand and motioned to the alley. "You only need to look."

I rolled my eyes and began looking around the alley. The only thing of note was a dumpster. "Oh hey!" I shouted excitedly as a ran up to oversized trash can. "Trash!" I exclaimed as I motioned at it like I was a game show host. The smile dropped off my face as I spoke again. "Literally, the only thing in this shit hole."

He shifted his eyes to the dumpster, then back at me. "Great start, now tell me what you know about the dumpster."

I sighed. "It holds garbage."

He smiled. "What else?"

"What do you mean 'what else?' It's a dumpster."

"Every detail, no matter how minute, can mean the difference between a lead, and a dead end." He walked over until he stood next to me, facing the dumpster. "Now, what else can you tell me about the dumpster?" His face held a calm about it, with a hint of a smile.

I began to scrutinize the trash receptacle. It was green, but the paint was peeling. Bits of rust dotted its surface. The inside held a few bags in it. The garbage must have ran a couple days ago. It sat on four, short legs. That's when I saw it. I thought it was rust at first, but looking closer at it, I can tell it was a dark liquid that had dried. Maybe blood. Taking a knee, I inspected the spot.

"Do you see now?" My analyzer spoke up.

"I mean, I see something, but it could be from anything. How are you so sure that this is connected to The Slasher?"

"You still aren't looking at this the right way. You saw the blood on the dumpster, but you are only seeing the blood on the dumpster." He pointed to the ground behind me. There sat a broken bottle, blood dried to the sharp edges.

I shrugged and faced the Zepharin. "Stabbings happen everyday in West Canterlot." I pointed at the bottle. "That could have nothing to do with our bounty."

He chuckled as he shook his head. "This was no ordinary stabbing, Rise. We looked through the guard reports. There haven't been any assaults in this area for the last week."

"It could still be an ordinary stabbing. Maker knows the guards around here couldn't give a shit." I crossed my arms.

"If it was, then where is the body? Where are the drag marks? These streets do not get cleaned very often. If a body were to be pulled through the dirt and grime, would it not leave a trail?"

I pointed at him triumphantly. "It couldn't be our Slasher, cause he kidnaps his victims. You just disproved it with that logic right there!"

He crossed his arms and smiled. "Look up."

As my gaze drifted up, my mouth opened. Bloody drag marks near the roof of the building. "He couldn't. He's an Earthbound. The only way he could have pulled the body up there is if he was a Pegasus."

"The bounty paper didn't have a picture. It was assumed he was an Earthbound, not confirmed."

"Zylus, I.." As my gaze shifted back down to Zylus, I was met with a burning stake. He wasn't my analyzer anymore, He was the closest friend I had in the Coalition. I pressed my way through the rest of the crowd. The woman and her child, Zylus's family, had stopped screaming. Zylus was burning, but I could still save him. I ran up the stake, climbed through the burning base, thankful for my armor, and pushed the pole holding my brother in arms over. When it landed, I ran up and cut Zylus from the pole. I heard the sounds of guards breaking up the crowd as I quickly put Zylus out with a spare blanket from my pack. A gun entered my peripheral. It fired into the blanket covering my friend. I jumped up and reached for my gun.

I patted where my revolver's holster is usually located, but I didn't bring it with me when I left this morning. I stumbled back until I hit the wall and slid to the ground. That hadn't happened in a long time. Standing up, I looked around the alley where I had my episode. Thankfully, it looks like nobody saw it.

Stepping out of the alley, I started my way toward my home. I had tried so hard to save them in time, but the crowd fought me every inch. They threw their words and their stones. The flashback was over, but I could still feel the heat of the flames. I could still hear their cries. They were people, too. You could say that day changed me. To be honest, that day changed everyone involved.

I entered my home, and a quick look around told me that Lightning had gone out. Walking into the kitchen, I grabbed what was left of the Balefire. Then, I climbed the stairs and entered my room. The top drawer of my bedside stand held two things. My revolver, and a smaller pistol. Grabbing the revolver, I left the room and went down the stairs.

The basement door opened with its telltale clicks. Every step echoed as I slowly descended the stairs. My feet carried me until I was facing my armor. Every near death experience told from the scars marring the surface of the metal and the thread of the cloth. I placed my bottle on a nearby crate. I could feel it.

The migraine.

The aches.

It wasn't just post battle pains. It wasn't just fatigue.

It was what was killing me. A promise, ten years in the making. I pulled out the vial. It could hold off the promise. It could keep me alive just a little longer.

But why? Why should I drink this? I tell myself everyday that there is still something to do. Something I need to do. Mend my relationship with Octavia. Find my brother. Hunt the man who taught me everything I know. Then I could die content.

Couldn't I?

I looked at my revolver. Wraith. I am the Wraith. A horror story to the criminals and gangsters in West Canterlot. If I walked into the street wearing my armor, it would clear in seconds. But only if they saw it.

My eyes slowly set their gaze on my armor. The helmet. On the spot where the bullet grazed me last night. When Woody almost killed me.

A pulse of pain resonated through my skull. I placed my gun and the vial on opposite sides of the bottle. I took a step back from it.

Every time I doubted myself, I would do this. Give myself a choice. To prolong the inevitable.

Or get it over with.

Is there a reason for me to keep it up. I took in a deep breath and closed my eyes. Then an image showed itself. A man was smiling at me. He was as tall as I am. His black hair had a touch of grey in it. He was aged, both his eyes and his face showed years of experience. Two, large white wings lay folded on his back.

"No matter what happens from here on out son, I'm proud of you. Of what you are. Of what you will be. Always." His last words echoed in my mind, much like the migraine.

I let out the breath that I had been holding.

I reached my hand out.

I had chosen.

Raising the object to my mouth, I opened the vial and downed the potion.

I grabbed the bottle and walked back to the base of the stairs whilst taking a swig of the amber liquid. When I got to the stairs, I paused and looked back at the revolver.

"Maybe someday," I stated to myself as I went upstairs, "not today."

Maybe there was something good on TV.

Author's Note

This was a long time in the making. This chapter marks the end of what I've been calling the "Welcome to Ponyville" chapter, or arc, or whatever this part should be called.

I hope you like it.