Equestian Deadlands - Tales of the West

DISCLAIMER:
First and foremost, I claim no ownership over My Litte Pony or Dead, they are property of Hasbro and Pinnacle entertainment respectively.

The story is based on a Deadlands game I was working on and going to run, but the group decided to play Pathfinder instead. But rather than toss the story on the back burner I decided to apply ponies.

Now, in my defense this is my first attempt at writing fanfiction, please be gentle. On the plus side, I have no where to go but up. At least that's what I'll keep telling myself.

****

The air was heavy with the acrid stench of smoke. Every breath burned my lungs. The air droned with the lifeless cacophony of pipes and hissing steam
The floor was oddly warm as I lay upon it. Humming with the dull drumming of the engines far below. My blood pooling and growing tacky in the oppressive head. And I felt the warm barrel of the gun pressing against the center of my chest.

My eyes crossed to focus on the elegant barrel of the gun, the carved and gilded filigree that traced through the gleaming steel. So out of place in the soot stained factory. The gun had been lovingly crafted for a single purpose. Its own elegant purpose. I'm sure the bullets were just as well crafted. The gun hung in the purple confines of a magical aura. The magic crackled up and down the finely crafted weapon.

Behind the beautiful gun, a set of steel gray eyes locked firmly on mine. His speckled black mane swept elegantly behind. One lock had come loose, settling down to outline his handsome gaunt features. As though the dislodged lock had been intentional and artfully placed. He was a honed and crafted as the weapon he pressed against my chest. He gave a small pained smile, as though regretting his action. The only part that marred his otherwise gilded features was the shadow of a beard.

No hatred lay in the eyes behind the gun. He was incapable of that. Just cold logic.

“It's pains me to do this.” He spoke softly, tenderly.

I tried to speak, but my broken body refused to respond. My mouth opened, only a pained wheeze escaped.

“Good bye Rose.”

A whisper of a gunshot. I did not even feel it.
I died in the darkness, next to the dull beating of the machines.
But this is the end of my story. And we are going to start in the beginning.

****

The busted shotgun dragged listlessly over the cracked dirt. The butt scrapping along, bouncing over rocks and cracking tinder twigs. The wood splintered and the metal buckled, both at angles that offered no hope of every firing again. The spent barrels clattered as they pointed at the empty azure sky and the ever present sun beating down upon baked earth.

I trudged along. Barely finding the strength to lift my hooves. Grit in my eyes, cracked and drying lips. My mane hung limply over my neck, the braid woven loose. What color had been there now stain with road dirt. My coarse tongue brushed over my lips, burning where they had split. Buzzards circled overhead. I could feel their beady eyes on me. One landed on a dead tree overlooking the road. It inched along the branch towards me.

“I ain't dead yet.” I muttered, swinging the battered shotgun towards it. The bird fluttered away with a coarse squat. Damn thing was nearly bigger than the gun. I pushed myself onward, feeling the jean barding I wore chaff against the congealing blood that stained my tan coat. Every breath I took felt like fire in my lungs. Heat and dirt was all I could smell. For that, I was glad, I was pretty sure I smelled damn near dead.

I forced myself to keep moving. Denying the vultures their meal. I could barely cling to the shotgun in my magic. The golden aura flickering and fading along the bent barrel. I had to keep moving. Couldn't stop. Get to town. Get help. Find Dad. Find Dam. Get Help. I focused on my hoof steps. Each beat sending a small cloud of dry dust from the cracked dirt. I could not remember where the road was. I licked my lips again. The copperish taste of blood tinged the tip of my dry tongue. I stumbled as my feathering caught the course twisted scrubs.

My hoof beats faltered, I staggered onwards. One hoof in front of the other. One more step. One more step. My lungs ached as I breathed the dry air. My body ached from exhaustion. I can't stop. It seemed to be getting darker. Maybe night was finally coming.

The cracked and dusty dirt looked strangely comfortable as it rushed up to meet me.

****

I pulled my head out of the water trough. My gold and red mane splaying across my face in an sopping mess. The frigid fingers of water trickled down my neck. Sending shivers through my flanks. It was just barely dawn. The sun a crimson smear across the horizon. Dark purple clouds bruised the edge of the horizon. The moon was still out on the other side of the horizon. It had been that way ever since one princess banished the other to it. Dad said it was due to her learnin' the moon as well. I don't know about that, politics between the princesses never seemed to amount to much, at least not out here in the farming lands. The sky was still black though, and even the cows were asleep. I smiled, feeling the cold morning air cutting to my bones. It was refreshing. Living on a farm with an extended family. It was nice to simply be alone. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes with a foreleg. I spat out the hair from my feathering. Grimacing. I'd need to get them trimmed or I'll be walking round covered in burrs. Probably get one of my little sisters to do it. They're always playing with dolls, or braiding each other's mane. I shook my head, shaking loose the plastered hair.

Glancing over my glistening shoulder at the rising sun. Would not be long before the others started to wake. I lowered my head, dipping my hoof into the water and splashing it up at me. Taking a mouthful to rinse out the taste of sleep out and spitting it into the grass.

I cracked my neck as I trotted back to the house. The wooden hinges creaked as I carefully opened the door. Dropping the latch back into place. Slowly I stole across the living room, back to mine and Hay Tail's room. I was the eldest, so I got the second biggest room, and got to pick which sibling I had to share it with.

The room was black, the lone window facing into the fading night. All I saw of my sister was the small lump in the blankets and the straw colored tuft of mane, snoring quietly. I went to my drawers, my golden magic opening the ill fitting wood with practiced ease. I frowned at the empty drawer before looking to the floor. I tugged a set of blue jean barding, sniffing it cautiously. I gagged cross-eyed. The insult to my nose made me toss the jeans away. Probably something I wore last harvest. They fell into a pile in the corner. I picked up the set of jeans that the used ones had been hiding. Another sniff test, passably clean.

I laid out the wrinkled jean barding. Harvest was soon, I'd be a farmhand along two of my brothers and whoever Da hired from town. I tried to straighten the barding on the floor. Trying to iron out the creases with my hooves and magic, before giving up the lost cause and using my magic to wriggle into it. The jeans covered most of me, ending just above my knees. Thankfully it hide my blank flank. On top followed by my brown coarse woven vest, at least that was clean and mostly stainless.

I sat down by the end of the bed. My sister snoring behind me. I used my magic to drag my damp mane over a shoulder. I reached out with my magic, picking up a a towel haphazardly thrown on the back of a chair. Using it to quietly wring out my hair as I listened to the house slowly wake.

First was my dad. Used to be he would always wake first, when I was a filly. I'd wake and find him smoking out on the porch. Cause ma would box his ears in if she caught him smoking in the house. I smiled softly as I heard him creep out. The light beyond the window was getting brighter. I tossed the towel back over the chair. The chair lurched backwards. I reach out with my magic to grab it, not wanting to make a noise. The chair loitered briefly, I thought I caught it before it slammed into the floorboards.
I glanced over my shoulder to see two amber eyes glaring at me through a yawn. Her hair resembled a wrecked hay bale.
“'Onestly sis' for once can you just sleep like a normal mare?” She muttered, a foreleg rubbing an eye.
I stuck my tongue out at her.
“An' miss all the best bits o' the day?” Hay tail sighed and fell back into the bed with a soft phump. “Bu' seein' as though you's already awake.” I gave a pleading grin, my magic floating the manebrush over to her.
Hay Tail rolled her eyes and turned over in the bed facing the wall. “Please, I can't braid it, I always get it wrong. Then I'll end up with hay in my mane, and I'll get it in Da bed.” I gave her the ol' puppy dog eyes, as she glared at me from under the blankets. With a tired sigh she rolled back over.
“Fine!” She cried, grabbing the manebrush in her mouth. Muffling the insults of big unicorn sisters and their poor earth pony servants. I leant back against the wood bed. Feeling her begin to run the comb through my mane. I smiled dimly as she set to work.

“Ya think after this harvest, Da might let me go to the city?” I broke the silence and the comb brushed through my gold and rose mane. My sister said something around the handle, but I knew all her words. We had this conversation before.
“No, not the town, I mean the City, you know, where they have roads what aren't paved with dirt.” I motioned with my hoof towards the window.
“I don't think ranch life is meant for me. I wanna see the city. See the world.”
She muttered something around the hair brush again.
“I mean, you've been to the town, heard old Thrown Shoe reading the papers. I wanna see a train. I hear they can beat the fastest pony. ”
Once again a tired reply muffled.
“Or see them fancy mares in dresses at the galas. Or even see them wagons what drive themselves.”
Hay Tail spat the hairbrush onto the bed, tugging at my mane with her hooves.
“Then do it.” She stated firmly. I blinked silently.
“What?” I managed to whisper.
“I said go do it.” I tried to turn to look at my sister but she held my mane firmly. Making me stare at the door to the room. “You always moan about how you want to go see everything else. That ranching ain't what you want ta be doing. Then go do something else.” She added, she carefully tugged my unruly mane into a braid. A heavy silence seemed to spread into the room. I opened my mouth to say something but she spoke first.“Ya always talk about it, but Da always talks you down.”
“Funny, cause he's the one always tellin' them stories about him 'n his friends from way back when.” I supplied with a nervous smile.
“Yeah, well, you go do that, I'll stay here, I like ranches.” She muttered under her breath.
“You jus' want the room ta yourself don't ya?”
“Yeah” She laughed, tying a cord around the tip of the ponytail to keep it in place. “But you'll be old and blank before too long if you stay here.” She added grinning.
“Why you little-” I felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment. I grabbed a pillow with my magic, flinging it at her. She yelped and dived into the bed. I twisted my grip on the pillow, swinging at her on the bed. Laughing as she dived back and forth to avoid me. “I'll old and blank you.” I giggled at her.

“Alright you two, knock it off, you've already woken up the house.” I heard my Dam call through the door as she opened it. I stifled a laugh, as I took one final swing at my sister. Leaving the pillow where it lay. Innocently smiling at my mother. Hay Tail was still giggling behind her hooves. Her mane and tail a complete mess. She looked around the room. The piles of clothing and assorted collections of junk. “Curse the princess who afflicted me with daughters.” She muttered shaking her head. Her azure wings stretched unconsciously by her side. She was earth bound with another foal on the way. She smiled warmly at her daughters. “Well, since you're awake, you're going to help me with breakfast.” She pointed down the hallway with a wing.
“Aww, bu-” We said in unison.
“No if, ands or buts, get moving.”
I slunk past her, head lowered but still trying to stifle giggles. My sister hopped off the bed to follow. “Not you missy, you're going to go to the pump and clean yourself off first. At least Copper Rose looks presentable.”
“But I- She wa- Bu-”
“Not another word, out.” Mum's voice brokered no argument.
“'S'not fair.” Hay tail muttered as she stalked behind me. Her long tail tangled and knotted. One of the good sides about being born with a docked tail. Just a tumble of a rose and gold tuft. Low maintenance. Wish my mane was the same, without my sister not sure I''d ever be able to sort it out.

I stood in the kitchen, looking out the window at the rising sun. My sister muttered another grievance as she made her way out to the backdoor. I turned from the window as mum trotted into the kitchen.
“Oatmeal.”
“Oatmeal?” I felt myself deflate.
“Oh don't look at me like that, I know you can at least make porridge. 'Side, Da went an' got a little something extra from town.” I cocked my head to the side. She smiled knowingly as I waited. She just nodded as I continued to stare questioningly.
“Well?” I nodded back expectantly.
“Oh I'll add it in, you just need to make the porridge first.” I rolled my eyes. First step, rolling the oats. I set about the taste with a rolling pin deftly in my magic. My sister walked up beside me.
“What can I do?”
I stopped, glancing over at the sink. My magic pulled the large black stove pot and setting it on the floor near the door. Before grabbing a small cup and hovering it over to her. “Here, fill up half the pot.”
“But how come you get to roll the oats and I gotta fill the pot?”
“Cause I'm bigger and older. Now don't get slobber in it.” I grinned, placing the cup on her head. She sighed, walking carefully with the cup balanced.
I had finished crushing the oats by the time she had finished filling the pot. I hovered the pot onto the stove. Hay Tail was fetching kindling and coal from the basement. I dumped the crushed oats into the water, watching it grow murky white. Dam handed me a wooden spoon with her wing. I smiled at her and used it to stir the pot. When Hay Tail came back I lit the fireplace with a small bolt from my horn.
“When'd you learn to do that?”
I glanced up, Dad was leaning on the bottom half of the front door. He was fixing me with a strange appraising glance.
“I just, sorta did it.” I glanced nervously down at the ground. Not sure if I was in trouble or not.
He gave a crescent smile, shaking his head halfheartedly. He opened his mouth to speak before he glanced away. He turned back, after the brief pause.“So, what you two making for breakfast?”
“Oatm-” I began.
“Three!” Hay Tail corrected glaring at dad.
“Sorry sprout, what are you three making for breakfast?”
“Oatmeal!” She grinned.
“Oatmeal? I can't think of a better way to start the day.” He had an absent smile across his lips. “Stormy, do you think you an' Hay could take over?” He asked, his voice smiled warmly.
“Of course, dear. Just bring her back in time for breakfast.”
I stood awkwardly, letting the wooden spoon sit in the heating oatmeal. I desperately tried to remember if I had done something wrong. Was it the spell? Maybe he over heard me and Hay Tail talking? What if he wants to kick me out? My mind went to thoughts of being alone in the city as I walked towards the door.
“Oh don't look at me like the gallows.” Dad laughed easily as he slid open the door. “I jus' wanna talk.”
I muttered an apology as I slipped through the door onto the porch. I glanced over to dad but he was still walking. Out towards the water pump.

“I every tell you the time Me an' Dusk blew up them Ranger station?” Dad supplied, breaking the tenuous silence. His emerald eyes grinning mirthfully.
“Yeah, ya told me that one a' least a hundred times.” I grinned mockingly.
“I jus'-” He began, before shaking his head, turning to look away into the middle distance. The wind catching his graying hair. “I ain't never been much o' a man o' words, that's always been Radiant's territory.” He scratched his ear absently. “Last year, ya asked ta go inta the city.” I winced, knowing he had overheard me, or Hay Tail had talked to him. “Well, thar comes a time in every mare's life, what she has to make her own decisions. After harvest, before winter I've gotta visit some old friends back up North. What say you to coming along with me?”
I stared at him. Unsure how to respond. My jaw hunt open as he turned to look at my reaction.
“Now, ya don't gotta say ya or neigh now, ya can wait, but, I want ya to think it over. See the cities wit' me, before you take off on your own.”
He wrapped a hoof around my shoulders drawing me in. I could smell old tobacco, dirt, hay and sweat. He smelled like home. I pushed myself free of his grasp.
“Did Hay Tai-?”
“No, no, but I sorta figured. An' I dun want my daughter to be an old nag and a blank flank.” He responded bumping my side with a hoof. I blushed sheepishly around a widening grin.
“Yes, I wanna go, but, will Ma be able ta-”
“Yer got three brothers, two sisters not ta mention that stripe Anvil's gonna work up and around here while we're gone. They'll be fine, we'll be back before ya know it.” He gave a warm fatherly smile. “Don't you fret none, I got everything sorted out. 'Sides, you're nearly a grown mare, pretty soon you won't be needing your pa around.”
I tore my eyes from the ground, looking up at him with a grin from ear to ear. “Oh thank you Da!” I giggled, wrapping my fore hooves around him. He tensed, before relaxing. Placing a hoof on my shoulders. I glanced back towards the house over his shoulder. Ma was shaking her head in the door way. Before reaching up and gripping the bell rope with her teeth. She yanked it. Waking those still abed in the house.
“Come on, before Ma boxes in my ears for stalling her breakfast.”
I nearly bounced the entire way back.

My twin brothers were already at the table. One barely eating, his head resting on the wood, his eyes closed. Dashing Rain. The other hungrily gobbling down the oat meal. Honey Daze. I grinned as I walked over towards my seat. Hay Tail was next to me, her muzzle stained blue, along with several dollops lodged in her mane.
“Got buburries.” She grinned around a mouthful of blue oatmeal.
“It was meant to be a surprise, but I got Da to pick up some dried fruits when he went to get paint, I wanted it to be something special.” She smiled at me, nosing my bowl closer. I gave a greedy grin, using my magic to pick up a spoon.
It was delicious. Da and Ma were talking, but I barely remember the conversation. Too busy eating far beyond the point of bloatation. I wish I had stopped at thirds.

My stomach reminded me why that was a bad idea when I had to do my chores. Mucking out stables, and tending the animals, feeding, grooming, slapping a new coat of paint on the barn. I groaned, rubbing my forehead, feeling a dull throbbing ache spreading from the base of my horn due to half a long day of magic labor. I grimaced, looking at the barn. One side done, three more left. The sun was still low enough in the sky to barely be out of morning.
The boy's likely be at school til the afternoon, along with Hay Tail. I was not sure if I envied them or not. Dad keeps talking about school changing the world ever since one opened up in town. But The boys did done nothing but complain about it being boring with too much work. Hay Tail liked recess with the other foals though. Never figured out how the math they taught could be used on a farm.
I sat the paint can down beside me. Gazing up at my work. I had gotten bored with the painting. Drew a large grinning pony. Now busy trying to cover the smile in enough coats of paint. I could still see the brush strokes through the quickly drying red paint.

There was a noise carried on the dry breeze. A popping crack that whispered across the wind. I glanced away from the drying paint. Was it to the east, back towards town. Maybe some drunk was trying to shoot bean cans. I shrugged turning back towards the barn. Dipping the brush in the red paint again.
Another sharp cracking noise on the wind, muffled by distance. But it was definitely to the south.
I turned, a brown cloud was drifting down between the scrub lands. Down the path about a fair distance away, a bunch of ponies in gray were running from a bunch of ponies in dark brown. I wiped the paint brush off on the can. I should probably go tell dad. He would know what was happening. I took another glance backwards. The ponies in gray were turning north. Running like a bat outta hell towards the farm. The ponies in dark brown were slower, one of them seemed to be carrying some large lump on its back.
“Dad!” I nervously call out. I'm not sure why, I knew he couldn't hear me from the barn. I tapped back and forth between tearing myself away from the sight. I trotted back towards the house. Anxiously building speed until I was running at a full gallop.

Dad was sitting on the porch, nursing a bottle in his hooves. Ma was sat next to him. The sight of me running towards them stopped their conversation. “Dad!” I shouted. He hopped to his hooves.
“What is it?” He asked, calmly, smiling the same warm smile at me.
“There's ponies coming, a whole mess o' them. They're running right this way.” I stammered between panicked breaths. Dad looked puzzled briefly, as though he was about to ask a question.
“Stormy, go inside. Rose, go with here and get the shotgun.” He stated calming. “I'll be right there.” He ran towards the barn, I stood staring as he ran. Wasn't til Ma gave my tail tuft a yank that I remembered what he said.
“Git inside. And git the gun from under the bed.” She ordered, nearly pushing me inside. Closing the door behind her. I did not hesitate. Scampering through the living room and down the hallway.
From the doorway I dragged the gun out from under their bed. A small cardboard box slid out with it. I picked it up in the magic too.

Dam was sat heavily in a rickety chair. One leg wrapped around her swollen belly. Her cutie mark, a dove and a gray cloud, was squished against the wooden supports.
“Ma, do you know what's-”
“Da will explain when he gets back. Just wait, and set the gun down on the table.” She stated with feigned calm. Gingerly I placed the shotgun on the table. Slowly I paced back and forth. A hundred different episodes running through my head. Most of them involving bandits.
Dad came bursting through the door, scaring me off my hooves.
“We don't got much time, they might jus' pass by, but Storm, you an' Rose are gonna go down into the coal cellar.” He stated in a tone that brokered no argument. She nodded slowly. I stared dumbly. His horn glowed orange as the cellar doors in the storage room opened. “Rose, help your mother.” He ordered and I moved on instinct to comply.
I pulled while she pushed off from the chair. Heaving herself over towards the open cellar. She grimaced at the stairs before carefully going down then one step at a time. I glanced back over my shoulder at dad. He had the shotgun poised in his hooves, pointing at the door. A grim look marring his otherwise smiling features.
Dam made it down tentatively, pawing at the dark blindly as she made her way away from the stairs. I followed. Glancing back up to the stairway. Da closed the hatch door, leaving us in the dark.
I could hear my Dam breathing next to me. All I could taste and smell was the heavy coal soot. We did not speak. I could not bring myself to say anything.
Softly I heard noises. Banging on the wooden door.
“In the name of Celestia's Concord open up.” Somepony bellowed. I winced back, cowering in the dark.
“Ye ain't draggin' the war in here, git off mah property.” I heard Dad shout back.
The was a moment of silence.
A splintering crash echoed from upstairs. I heard a metallic click. My dad swore, then a meaty thump from the floor boards showering dust into the darkness.
“Good job, put the farmer in the other room and take up positions, I want a gun covering every window. He'll try to come up from behind with that blasted cannon o' his.” A well spoke pony bellowed orders. I heard dad groan as they moved about, dragging him into the storage room above the hatch. There was a clattering thrown in after him.
I didn't wait, I heard Dam bite back her words as I ran towards the stairs. I found my footing in the dark, opening the hatch.
Dad was rubbing his head, two large hoof shaped bruises, one on the side of his face, the other his chest. He spat out a tooth grimly. The shotgun laying haphazardly on the floor. “Dern bastard caught the hammer.” He grabbed the gun.
“Go back down, we're going out the coal chute. Dun wanna be here with scat flies.” I nodded grimly.
Silence erupted. I felt a shower of wood splinter against my side. Bouncing off of the jean barding. Then screams. I thought the maw of hell had opened up. The screams ripped through the air around me. A damned cacophony screaming the horrors they would inflict. I thought I had gone deaf but I could hear soldiers bellowing orders. The cracking blasts of rifle fire. I opened my eyes, I didn't realize I had closed them. The wall in the back of the storage room was blown clear through. Through it I could see a pony with a huge contraptions strapped to it. The pony braced itself on the hill. Another next to it was fiddling with the contraption.
Dad pushed me down the stairs into the dark, him tumbling down beside me. As more screams erupted from above. It sounded as though the air itself was being torn asunder. I felt myself bruise as I tumbled down the worn wood stairs.
Shakily I stood at the bottom. A hundred cuts and scraps littered my exposed hide, the barding just gave way to bruises. Dad groaned pushing himself up from the hard floor. Dust staining his brown hide.
“Goin' out the coal chute.” He stated, spitting out a dollop of blood onto the floor. Ma stared at him in a look of horror.
“Hol' on we'll git you outta here. We'll go north, got favors I can call in up there.” He staggered over towards the grate of the chute. Pulling a latch, then pulling the grate out of the wall.”We're going to need to push and pull her up. Right Rose you-”
“I'll push, you go make sure the coast is clear.” I was not sure why I said that, I wanted to curl up in a ball and pretend nothing was happening. But Dad fixed me with another strange look. He shook his head before turning towards the hole a thoughtful expression. Picked up the shotgun, passing it over to me, I took it tentatively in my magic from his muzzle before he turned back trotting towards the darkness. I heard him rummaging before returning with a rope.
“Are you planning what I think you're planning.” Dam asked nervously.
Dad's replied was muffled by the rope in his mouth, but he nodded. He trotted over to her looping the rope over her side. Tying it into a knot under her forelegs. She opened her mouth to protest, but the sharp retort of gunfire silenced her. Dad staggered back over towards the chute. “Right, I’ll go up, then you pass the rope up. I’ll pull, you push.” I heard him grunting as he climbed up the sloped chute. Before calling back down. “Right, pass the end of the rope up here.”
I magicked the end of the rope over towards the chute. Dam walked over towards the chute. Dad picked up the slack in the rope. Dam sucked in a breath, taking one cautious step upwards. I gripped her with my magic. Shoving my shoulder against her flank as I tried to get her up.
My golden aura engulfed her. I could hear Dad struggling up top, amid the gunfire and bellowed orders. I heard Dam’s hooves struggle for grip. I felt like I was being hammered into the floor with each beat of my fluttering heart. Fired claws felt like they were raking down through my horn. I groaned as sweat beaded on my forehead. My eyes screwed shut, focusing on pushing her up.
Then release. She landed heavily on the side.
“Alright, Rose come up.” I heard Dad shout over the sounds of war.
I tentatively walked towards the chute. My body felt like I had been beaten black and blue. I placed a hoof tentatively on the edge of the chute.
“Come on, I’ll get the rope.” I heard him back away from the opening.
I sighed softly, willing the feeling away from my limbs. Another deafening silence rocked the house. I heard the groan and screams of the wood. The ceiling gave a sickening lurch inwards. I heard the sound of Dad shouting. A wooden beam snapped above me. My limbs flung be backwards. The wooden shrapnel stabbing the air where I had been. I back pedaled, running towards the stairs. Dust choked he coal clogged air.
The world erupted as the ceiling sagged and snapped. I dived toward the stair the shotgun skittering along the floor towards the stair. Something slammed into me. I felt the wind leave my lungs. I struggled to breath in the choking air. Something was laying across my side. I heard shouting.
Then silence.

I opened my eyes. I don’t remember closing them. My head swam. I tried to push myself up. Something lay across me. I glanced back. A wooden beam lay across my back. I was surprised I wasn't broken. I tried to grip it with my magic. My horn ached and burned, but managed to scramble out as it shifted its weight off of me. One of my hoofs kicked the shotgun down a step. I stared at it in the near darkness, barely illuminated by my golden magic. Slowly I gripped it in my aura. I felt safer with it.

I was on the stairs. Dimly I remembered what had happened. My stomach lurched back and forth. I grimaced looking over my shoulder. Most of the house had caved in. Looks like the stairs was damn near the only thing that survived. I carefully pulled myself up, each step disturbing dust and making the boards creak and groan. I winced with each step. Casting glances upwards at the bulging ceiling.

The hatch door groaned as I pushed against it. Took all my effort to inch it open. Pushing away the debris and rubble. I held a breath as it the refuse broke free dislodging a plume of ashen smoke. I gagged, raising a hoof to my mouth, breathing through my feathering. My eyes slowly adjusted. Daylight seared through the gaping holes in the wall and roof. The wooden house little more than a charred skeleton. I could smell the acrid burning stench. And blood. Lots of blood. The metallic haze hung in the air. I fought to keep my stomach from vomiting. I dry heaved, doubling over. Brought me face to face with a puddle of blood. It was tacky and dark. My eyes widened as I traced it back to its source. The broken body lying under the fallen wall looked barely like a pony. Charred flesh twisted and contorted. I backed away slowly. The shotgun floating hesitantly next to me. The body looked like it was screaming. As my eyes adjusted to the smoking gloom. I saw more of them. Bodies twisted, broken and burned.

I backed out the front door, eyes locked on the twisted bodies. I could feel the heat of the sun through my barding. I tore my eyes away from the smoldering wreck. Looking up. Azure skies, empty from edge to edge in the vast scrub land. The sun sat high in the sky, burning the land. My eyes followed the path of the sun downwards. A thin black column of smoke marred the horizon. The barn was still smoking. Smoldering. The earth around the farm was littered with large craters and fallen bodies, twisted, mangled. Grey barding on all of them. On their shoulders they wore a heavily stained sunburst. I did not want to get a closer look. The shotgun span back and forth with me.

“Dad!” I called out, my voice hoarse and dry. Barely a ragged whisper. “Dad, where are you?” The wind blew in silent response.

I started walking. North. Walking turned to running. Dad would go North like he said. To town. He would get help. I could find him on the road. He and dam would not have gotten far, I could catch up. They would not leave me here. I was running, down the dirt path. The smoldering wreckage behind me.

I tried to keep running, chasing the idea that I would come across Dad on the road. Exhaustion and heat forced my gallop to a trot, then my trot to a crawl. I was panting, sweat beading against my barding. I shoved the shotgun through a loop in the jeans. Letting my magic rest, and hoping it would lessen the throbbing headache emanating from my horn.

****

The world burned beneath the blazing sun. I was panting, and trotting at a crawl along the dirt road. I swayed back and forth on my legs with each step. My barding dried faster than I could sweat. I was half tempted to take it off. I could not find the energy to perform the simple task. Not sure how long I had been trotting. I wanted to find Dad then curl up and pass out. A full days travel to the town.

In the distance I saw two shapes milling around a bent dead tree. My hooves kicked the dust into a flurry behind me. My legs stumbled not long after my short sprint. Leaving me nearly tumbling along the road.

As I got closer I could see the shapes. Three ponies, none of them one I knew. Just earth ponies.

“Hey, Hey mister, you see a brown earth pony and a teal pegasus walkin'?” I called out to the trio of ponies that stood together under the shade of a lone tree. One of them looked up, nudging the others with their hooves. Three earth ponies. I stood at the edge of the road as they trotted closer. I'm pretty sure I smelled like death.
“Wassa pretty filly like yerself doing out here all alone?” One of them crooned. A gray pony with a beaten stetson. Probably a cowpony.
“I was looking for my Da, earth pony, brown coat, white mane, green eyes.”
“Sorry, I don't recollect any brown an' white earth ponies.” An orange one smiled sickly sweet through missing teeth.
“Oh, well, that's okay, I'll just be on my way then.” I backed away nervously. I felt my tail tuft hit another one. The third, a large rust colored earth pony. Did not see him come around behind me. I tried to give a sweet disarming smile. He returned with a dumb vicious grin.
“Ain't white one o' them Celest's colors.” The rust colored pony supplied.
The orange pony grinned. “I reckon they is, I reckon they is. Don't suppose she's a Celest spy now do you?” He spoke to the gray pony.
“I dunno, might could be she is.” He smiled.
“Weren't our orders to capture and turn over all prisoners, might be worth some bounty money?” The orange pony gave another toothless grin. He turned side on, a leather holster ran around his midriff. Each side holding an ugly pistol. My eyes widened.
“Might be we should have some fun, before Ol' Black gets 'is turn.” The gray one grinned back at the orange.
“Lookee here, this dumb filly gone and got herself iron.” The large rust colored pony spoke with a slur. He reached down, grabbing the shotgun from by belt. I felt my heart beating a thousand beats a moment. My magic lashed out, grabbing the shotgun from the earth pony's teeth. . I lunged away from the buck. The orange pony's eyes widened, reaching down and grabbing the pistol with ease. He leveled it at me. The rust colored one stayed on my left. I couldn't point the shotgun at all three.

We stood in silence. The orange buck pointing the pistol at me. The shotgun pointing at them. I hesitated. “Right, so, jus' leave me alone and no pony gets shot.” I tried to sound forceful and strong, yet my voice squeaked around the heart in my throat. The gray pony laughed. He took a confident step towards me.
“What are you? Barely a mare, some farm filly wit fire in yer belly. Ya don't got it in you. We're soldiers.” Each word he took another step closer. I span around to face him. The shotgun following suit. The magic flickered and shook. He grinned confidently. “Yer just some foal with britches-” He reach out with a hoof to take the gun away. The hammer struck down. The shotgun barrel roared in front of his face. He fell convulsing. I heard the bang from the pistol. The rusty pony reared his hooves to strike. The shotgun twisted round. The other barrel singing in rapport with the ringing in my ears. The large buck fell with a gurgling cry. The pistol fired again. A line of fire erupted along my flank. The shotgun leveled itself at the orange buck. Both hammers clicked. The shotgun remained silent. The pistol fired again. It sliced through my shoulder. The shotgun twisted in the golden aura. Rising and slamming down against the orange's buck's neck. There was a shattering sound. The wood on the stock snapped. The buck's neck bent at the wrong angle.
I was panting. The rusty pony lay gurgling from the concave hole in the barrel of its chest. The gray had already fallen still. The orange buck lay motionless. His mouth opening and closing. I fell to my knees, dry heaving but nothing wanted to come up. Acid bile burned my throat. I felt my sides ache, burn and grow damp.

My body protested as I stood. I ran. I ran like hell itself were chasing my feathers. I turned right abandoning the road. They could find me there. The shotgun hovered anxiously as I ran. Felt like fire was poured along my flanks. Yet I ran.

In the dry scrub land sun I stumbling headlong through the bushes. I felt thorns prick and tug at my barding and my feathering. But I kept running.

****

My lungs burned, I was not sure how long I had been walking. The broken shotgun dragged beside me\ now. My broken and bleeding body protesting to every hoof fall. Each step sending a lance of fire up my right leg and flank. I pressed harder. The right side of my body was tacky and the stench of blood hung heavy in the air. I felt myself drifting side to side, fighting to keep walking. I was not sure where. Anywhere. Dad and Dam would be on the road, maybe they would find me.
My knee burned where it struck a rock. I pushed myself off the ground. When had I fallen. The sky seemed darker in the empty blue. I staggered once again. Barely keeping myself upright. My leg wobbled back and forth. I glanced up at the sky. The sun beat down against me. I turned, continuing. Anywhere. Anywhere my hooves would take me.
I realized my hooves would not take me far as I collapsed upon the dusty ground. I landed on my right leg, crushing the weeping wound into the dirt. I gasp against the pain. I struggled to get the leg out from under me. But each breath came slower than the last.
Eventually I forgot why I was struggling. It felt cold now. I opened my eyes. It was dark. The sun had been there a moment ago. Yet all I remember is cold. And the stench of blood. And empty listless eyes.
I closed my eyes to avoid looking at the void.

Yet, despite myself I opened them again. A fire crackled nearby. On a dusty tattered mat lay several tools. Blood coated the gleaming metal. I smelled, dirt, tobacco and sweat.