Fallout: Lavender Wastelander

Twilight slowly cracked her eyes open, staring at the ceiling as her waking brain struggled to chase away the fog of deep sleep. She could hear the pitter-patter of a light drizzle hitting the roof of the small yet comfortably furnished guest room. It was like there was a stampede of tiny hooves on the shingles. The heavy wind had died off sometime through the night, leaving the fat water-laden clouds to lazily hang around all night long.

Twilight only knew it was morning by the wavering orange ray of dawn slipping through a narrow gap in the curtains, peeking through the even narrower span between the horizon and the clouds. The light illuminated the sheet and blanket covering her and Daniel as they shared the bed.

He was her husband. The word bounced around Twilight’s head. Husband, husband, husband. She had really gotten married!

As if she needed a reminder, she rolled and reached over to the nightstand. Her bare arm brushed the covers aside far enough for cold air to slip into her cocoon of comfort. The sudden shock to her naked body blew away the remnants of fog in her brain as she snatched the piece of shrapnel off the nightstand next to her pistol and cradled it against her chest. Holding it close, she thought about everything that had led up to her saying ‘I do’.

Three or four days had gone by lightning fast, but those days had been harrowing ones. Twilight guessed that Daniel probably thought the same, since he had agreed to get married as well. He was a good person who was considerate enough to try and improvise something in place of the wedding rings; no one gave a gift like that from the heart and didn’t mean it. He had even gotten on a knee and proposed to her. It somehow made the wedding feel more legitimate than it should have, and proved to her that he would want to make it work just as much as she did.

The only thing that could have made the wedding perfect was having all her friends and family there to see it, rather than a bunch of bored strangers who wanted an excuse to stay out of the rain just a little longer.

Twilight’s smile faded as she carefully traced the tip of a finger along the edge of the jagged metal splinter she held. Applejack, Rainbow, Pinkie, and Spike were all still out in the Wasteland while she was busy getting married. Now Twilight understood what Rarity had mentioned feeling: a crushing wave of guilt for having fun while her friends could be in mortal danger.

Especially Fluttershy.

A knot of worry coiled in Twilight’s stomach. Her friend was alone with two of the worst criminals that Twilight personally knew. It was a small relief that Fluttershy seemed to know what she was doing, or at least had the skills to defend herself, but the raiders following Fluttershy weren’t the worst thing in the Wasteland.

Scribe Glenn’s whereabouts were still unknown. After Fluttershy’s description of him before leaving Equestria, Twilight would travel with a dozen Kerris or Slim Joes before she would want to be in the same postcode as Scribe Glenn. He was so past redemption that Fluttershy had vowed to kill him, and Twilight would be there to cheer her on to do it. Necromancy and blood magic were past King Sombra on the evilness scale.

With her thoughts lingering on the dark mage as well as everything else she still needed to do, Twilight knew she wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep. So of course, her stomach chose that moment to softly growl.

That decided it. There would be no sleeping in with her new husband… at least for now. She placed the piece of shrapnel back by her pistol before she steadied herself with the nightstand. Slowly she brushed the covers off of her, careful not to disturb the fabric too much so she wouldn’t wake her husband up. She then swung her legs out, putting more weight on her good leg since she hadn’t slept with her brace on. It was on the floor, heaped together with her Pip-Boy and the rest of her clothes. Daniel’s clothes were in a similar heap, close to where their backpacks and armor lay.

Seeing the clothes reminded Twilight of how things had escalated rather unexpectedly last night. It reminded her that there was another reason to try and not wake Daniel up other than common courtesy. He had enough beginner’s luck for both of them, and had stayed a stallion in all the right places. Even with her thoughts lingering on all the negativity, just the small and brief thought of last night made Twilight want to curl her hooves as she stood beside the bed.

Embarrassment, guilt, worry, joy… almost every emotion she knew. She wouldn’t forget a second of what she had experienced in this town she hadn’t even learned the name of. It would be easy to forget the Wasteland and her worries for just a little longer. The temptation to re-experience it all with Daniel was certainly there. Her many textbooks hadn’t conveyed just how indescribably amazing being with a stallion was.

Twilight shook her head, chasing away the thought. She needed to get moving before she gave in and jumped back in bed with Daniel. It was a selfish desire, anyways; she had people counting on her. She was still the Princess of Friendship and had friends in need. With no time to get distracted, she limped away from the nightstand towards her little heap of clothes. She started to get dressed, leaving the leg brace for last.

Thankfully, her leg held up long enough to get dressed. The hardest part didn’t even involve her leg; it was getting her wings through the holes in the back of her plum and maroon Vault suit.

Once she was dressed, Twilight gave her husband a passing glance, watching him curled up in bed. She could wake him up, but it was still raining outside. She could get things done on her own while he slept in a little, like talking to the priest about the job he needed mercenaries for. If she was quick enough she could even cook Daniel breakfast as a little ‘thank you’ gift for just being there for her, even if their relationship had more arguments than dates… so far. After everything calmed down, there would be time for dates.

Giving her knee brace a final adjustment, Twilight walked towards the bedroom door, crossing the small room in just a few steps. She reached for the doorknob and turned it slowly, the old brass ball squeaking like a mouse as it turned. Twilight’s heart fluttered with anxiety. She whipped around to face the bed, but Daniel thankfully still snored away.

Sleep tight, Prince.

Pulling the door open just a crack, Twilight slipped into the main room of the church, closing the door behind her.

She observed the room beyond until her gaze settled on the windows. She hadn’t had a chance to get a good look at what the stained glass showed in the firelight of the braziers. The braziers themselves had burnt down to coals through the night, but that wasn’t an issue. Her low-light vision and the dawn light filtering through the windows let her see well enough. The glass mosaics were a lovely mix of reds, greens, and amber-golds, with some browns here and there.

The predominant imagery was of a woman cradling a baby, or three crosses on a hilltop, the central cross draped with a purple sash. Twilight was in awe at the artistry and craftsmanship of the mosaic, her thoughts dwelling on what the meaning was behind the images. When she had the chance, she’d have to learn everything she could about the religion, even if she didn’t intend to practice it. It was part of the culture of the people who lived in this world, and Daniel had once been a part of the religion, though Twilight didn’t know why he had departed from it. She hadn’t had much of a chance to talk to Daniel before the sparks started to fly, and what little she had learned was just a few basics.

Twilight dwelt on the significance of the people and images in the mosaic for a little while longer before the front doors to the church opened with a loud creak. Whipping her head around, she saw Reverend Josiah Smith carrying a bundle of split firewood in his arms as he nudged the doors closed behind him. Twilight quickly closed the distance between herself and him, reaching her arms out.

“I can help,” she said to the black-skinned man.

“Oh, thank you,” Reverend Smith said, passing over half the stack. “Is Daniel up yet?”

“Not yet.” Twilight shimmied the firewood into a more comfortable carrying position as she followed beside the reverend. “I never thanked you for offering me the chance to back out of the wedding.”

“It’s the least I could do,” Reverend Smith said, smiling widely as they walked towards the closest braziers to the door.

“I do want to ask why you didn't suggest the barn earlier,” Twilight said, stopping alongside the reverend by the brazier.

Reverend Smith placed most of his firewood onto the still glowing coals from the previous night before he answered with a shrug. “I’m only human, and Jackson put me on the spot. I didn’t think of the barn right away.” Reverend Smith placed the rest of his firewood onto a little green rug covered in wood chips and splinters near the brazier. Once he was done, he took the bundle of firewood from Twilight and placed it on the rug with his bundle. “In the end, I decided that marrying you and Daniel falsely would be more of a sin than offering you two a place you could go sleep together.” The reverend stepped away from the brazier, turned, and headed towards a simple three-drawer cabinet pushed against the far wall. “Unfortunately, if you try to follow the commandments like I do, sometimes being a good Christian and a good person don’t line up, or any choice you make leaves you culpable to a sin.”

Twilight nodded. Daniel had explained to her that there were holy laws written in their religious textbook. Premarital sex was against the rules, which some sects took to the extreme of segregating sleeping areas to entirely different buildings.

“Could you tell me a bit more about your religion?” Twilight asked, watching as Reverend Smith retrieved a grill-top from beside the cabinet. Her stomach growled again, this time loud enough she caught the reverend’s glance her way. Splaying her ears, Twilight sheepishly grinned. “Sorry, I haven’t been able to keep a full stomach for long these last few days.”

So many things in this world had made her vomit. It was becoming an uncomfortable theme.

“Hunger is natural, no need to apologize for your stomach making noise,” the reverend said, walking back over to the brazier and placing the metal grating over the fire. “I would ask if you wanted to help me cook for the town, but I doubt they’d want a mutant handling their food. The mutation isn’t contagious, is it?”

“So far I’ve only seen people turn into mutants like me under very specific circumstances,” Twilight said. “I don’t know if you believe in magic, but it exists.”

“I do,” the reverend said. “The Bible—Christianity’s holy texts—are filled with examples of what can only be called magic. Some examples are clearly divine intervention, others not so much.” The reverend paused, his eyes lingering on her horn before he spoke again. “The gate guards say they never saw you enter town. Can you do magic?”

Twilight froze, unsure how much she should reveal. She could probably tell him everything. She was already in town. The worst he could do was attack her or kick her out. Equestria would be safe.

“Yes,” Twilight said after a moment of hesitation. She tapped her horn with a finger. “Well, normally I can, but my horn was broken recently, so I needed help from another one of my kind to teleport Daniel and myself. Unfortunately, we were sent here by accident. We didn’t mean to bypass your walls, we just want to get back to the Capital Wasteland after an inconvenient detour.”

“That place?” The reverend raised an eyebrow. “Makes sense someone with fur would come from there, no offense. Heard the place was cursed beyond reason, though I’ve never been.”

She and Daniel had looked at their Pip-Boy maps after the ceremony. They were a few days south from Smith Casey’s Garage, and they could save a lot of time if Twilight could fly a cart like Fluttershy, but Daniel’s agoraphobia could be an issue with that option, even if they found a cart to use.

“Yeah,” Twilight said. “What’s the name of this town so we can mark it on our maps?”

“Drifter’s Rest,” the reverend said with a lighthearted chuckle. “Probably the last town before you get far enough into Virginia for Three Dog’s radio station to be out of range. Though it hasn't been transmitting for a while.”

“One of my friends is hoping to fix that soon, she works for the Brotherhood of Steel,” Twilight replied. “Speaking of work, you said that you had a job for Daniel and I?”

“I do, and luckily, or unluckily when it comes to that place, it’ll take you to the direction you’re heading,” the reverend said. He was about to say more, but the room door opened and Daniel stepped out, dressed in his combat armor. Twilight wondered if she had accidentally woken him up after all. “Ah, good, you’re awake. I’ll grab the package now.”

“Package?” Daniel asked as he crossed the room, joining her side. Twilight smiled as he drew close, and she leaned into him. “Are we delivering something?”

The reverend didn’t answer, instead, he walked towards a door and quickly entered the room beyond.

“Seems like it,” Twilight replied in the reverend's stead. “Morning, Danny.”

Daniel rolled his eyes and smiled. “I’m not going to let that pet name stick, Twily.”

“And that one won’t stick because that’s the nickname my brother uses for me,” Twilight said back, playfully bumping her hip into Daniel’s. “I was going to cook you breakfast, but the reverend and I kept going from tangent to tangent.”

“He’s definitely a preacher then,” Daniel chuckled. Twilight raised an eyebrow, not understanding what was funny. Daniel explained, “It’s an old joke about preachers being long winded.”

“Ah,” Twilight said. “I wouldn’t know, religion really isn’t a thing in Equestria. Well, unless you count the towns far enough away from the capital, then you have ponies who deify Celestia.”

“I was wanting to ask about that,” Daniel said. “Are Celestia and Luna gods or something in your world?”

“What, no?” Twilight snorted. “I’ve seen Celestia and Luna get tossed around enough to know that’s FAR from accurate. They’re just bigger than everyone else, immortal, spin the sun and moon around Equestria–”

“Totally not gods then,” Daniel said as he smirked.

Twilight facepalmed. The way she put it, Celestia and Luna did sound like gods. Luna even entered ponies’ dreams to protect them from nightmares.

“Okay, some ponies may have a valid reason to be confused,” Twilight said. “But they aren’t gods, just very powerful beings. Living with them and seeing how flawed they are—as well as them telling you not to worship them—is probably why religion hasn’t caught on too hard in Equestria.”

Twilight and Daniel’s conversation died off as the Reverend emerged from the door he had entered. He was carrying a large, thick metal briefcase, his shoulder sagging with the weight of it. The symbol on the briefcase’s front was three black triangles arranged like the leaves of a clover around a central black dot, set on a yellow circular background.

“Do you need help with that?” Daniel asked.

“No,” Reverend Smith replied, grunting slightly as he approached the counter against the wall. “You said you were once part of the faith?”

“Yes,” Daniel said, shifting from hoof to hoof as she scratched the back of his neck. “Respectfully, I’m not interested in converting back.”

“Not my intention,” Reverend Smith said, hefting the heavy metal briefcase onto the countertop. “I have a question about a particular piece of scripture. I know you said it’s been a while, but do you remember the first of the ten commandments?”

“I think it’s ‘Thou shalt not have any other gods before me’,” Daniel replied, although his tone sounded more like he was questioning if he got it right. The way the scripture was spoken sounded like how old Equestrian was written.

“Correct,” Reverend Smith said with an approving nod, turning the tumblers on the briefcase’s number lock. “What does it mean to you, Daniel?”

“It's God saying he’s the one and only god,” Daniel replied.

“That can be one interpretation,” Reverend Smith said. “But when Moses went to free his people from slavery in Egypt, God turned Moses’s staff into a serpent when he threw it down, correct?”

Twilight had turned a boulder into a tophat, and an orange into a frog. A staff into a serpent sounded a lot like magic. She almost missed Daniel’s slow nod.

“What are you getting at, Reverend?” Daniel asked. The reverend clicked open the locks.

“I want to know,” the reverend began. “Who turned the staffs of the Pharaoh's magicians into serpents?”

The reverend slowly lifted the hefty lid of the briefcase, his body blocking her view of what was inside. But she didn’t need to see it to feel it.

Twilight dry heaved as the scent and taste of sulfur and tar filled the air, clawing deep into her nose. Her eyes watered and horn itched.

As the reverend stepped aside, showing off the contents in the box, Daniel jerked.

“Twilight,” Daniel asked, his voice a rasp of panic. He looked around, anywhere but back inside the box. “What am I feeling?”

“Dark magic,” Twilight said, her own voice thin. She swallowed heavily, tasting acid.

Inside the briefcase was a black leather-bound tome. One almost exactly like the one Fluttershy had seen Glenn with.

The reverend slammed the briefcase closed, the oppressive feeling in the air departing as the book was locked away. The reverend’s dark skin had turned a few shades lighter brown.

“I take it from your reactions that you both agree this thing needs to be destroyed,” Reverend Smith said, his mouth working to swallow several times.

“Y-yeah!” Daniel shouted, stumbling away. He snorted his nose and hacked phlegm before spitting into the brazier. “It tastes like my teeth are made of copper… or my mouth is full of blood or something.”

Twilight agreed. She wasn’t a fan of books being destroyed, but knowledge was power and there were some powers that needed to be out of the hands of everyone. Glenn had tortured and raped a young girl to satisfy a spell in his book. If Fluttershy hadn’t found Melissa, Glenn would have used her and her unborn child as spell components.

If Twilight still had the entirety of her horn, she would have ripped the book apart herself. Even if it meant using the dark magic she had learned to defeat King Sombra.

“My ministry was having a prayer service late last night,” Reverend Smith said. “I recently came into possession of the book, and was preparing to take the journey myself. I am a man of the cloth, not a warrior, but my Father above provided me with two capable and good-hearted people.”

Twilight was skeptical that there was some sort of divine intervention at play. Yet unexplainable magic had been the norm in her life the last few years. The Tree of Harmony had provided her with an entire castle like it was pre-destined to happen, with a map inside of it that would lead her and her friends on quests to solve friendship problems across the world.

Who was she to deny that there was something similar in this world that she didn’t have the capabilities to understand? Regardless if it was a god, strange magic, or fully coincidental chance, there was still an evil artifact before her that needed destruction.

“What do you know about the book?” Twilight asked. “I assume like most magical artifacts, it’s incredibly resilient.”

The preacher would have burned it if it were that easy to destroy.

“It’s tough, that’s for sure,” Reverend Smith said. “A missionary from another Christian sect called the Abbey of the Road warned me of books like these. I didn’t want to believe something this evil could actually exist in the world. That was until reality arrived in a trade caravan a few days ago. I’ve tried fire, battery acid, even one of Junker’s jury-rigged mini-nuke landmines didn’t touch it. The missionary said it has to be destroyed by an equally malevolent force.”

“Is there anything else you can tell us about the book?” Twilight asked, before she jerked. “Wait, was there a thin bald man with head scars following the caravan?”

“No,” Reverend Smith said with a deep frown, rubbing his chin. “The missionary said there were three books. She was heading for Point Lookout to retrieve the Krivbeknih, this is the Dhulrhonvir… you’ve encountered the third?”

“My friend has,” Twilight said. “The holotape left by Scribe Glenn said it was the Nalanakrivmir.”

<>~<>~<>

Jack fell backwards onto the sofa he had found in the alley way. The damp cushions sloshed with water from the absolute rainstorm the night before, but he needed a rest.

He felt like shit, and there was a reason. He pulled his pants down to check his thigh. The wound he found was certainly infected. Jack didn’t need booksmarts to know that the fragments of needle left in his thigh weren’t a good thing, and he didn’t have a stimpak to push the fragments out. He pulled his pants back up.

Every step of his walk of shame after she had defeated him had been agony. What Med-X he had been able to push through the needle before the pink-haired dyke had roundhouse kicked the syringe hadn’t even touched the pain. He would have needed the full hit to feel slightly numb.

“When I get my hands on her,” Jack growled. “I’m gonna make it slow… start with tearing those yellow feathers out her wings one-by-one.”

He lost himself in thought, building up idea after idea, one spawning two others until there were too many plans. He rearranged the order of his favorite ideas into a playlist of agony he would dish out on the bitch when he found her again. He’d have to get creative to make her last. Hanging her up by the ankles like he was carving up a radstag would kill her from shock too quickly… unless he paid off the right doctor, of course.

“Am I interrupting something?”

“Jesus-fuck, man!” Jack cursed as his eyes shot open. Reflex trained from years of being a raider boss had him reach to his side and draw iron on the man who had jumped him.

The man did not flinch back. He stood at the end of the alley like the grim reaper, leaning heavily on a tall staff topped with a skull that dripped with blood.

“Hey, cue–ball,” Jack cursed at the bald man. The man was a raider, that was for sure. His face was carved up like a jigsaw puzzle, all lines and letters not from any alphabet Jack recognized. The man was thin, too, like skin stretched over a skeleton. Most of his bulk was probably from the bloody Brotherhood of Steel robes he wore. “Nearest pool-table is a few blocks down. This alley is taken.”

“Bald jokes,” the man said, no inflection or change in his voice. He didn’t even blink. “Cute.”

“Last chance, fucknuts, back the fuck off or I cap you,” Jack threatened, turning his revolver sideways as he drew back the hammer.

“And my search for an apprentice continues,” the man said, turning from the alley and walking away. His voice trailed around the corner. “Shame, so much potential with that rage of yours.”

Jack stared at where the man had been for several long seconds.

“Fucking cocksucking weirdo,” Jack scowled, lowering the pistol and looking skyward. A few raindrops hit his face. “Ah, good… more fucking rain. Can this get any worse?”

A shuffling sound drew his attention back to the entrance of the alley.

Lumbering around the corner of the alley was a dog… but not like anything Jack had ever seen. It was taller, broader, and made of rusted metal, like a sculpture that had come to life. Carved into its body were more of the strange letters like on the head of the bald man. Its glowing eyes flickered between dark purple tinged with abyssal black, and lambent green. A knife-like tongue made of steel screeched and sparked as the wolf licked its pointed rebar teeth.

“E-easy boy,” Jack stuttered as he slowly raised the pistol.

The wolf pounced.