The Traveller

        Equestria used to be a fairly nice place. Everypony having a nice time from Canterlot to Manehatten. Everything was beautiful wherever you happened to be. Now, as a wasteland of demise and misery, all of that had come to a screeching halt. The Princesses had been gone for years. The only proof of that is the sun and moon next to each other for 27 years, that and the grave where the castle used to stand.

        A gentle breeze ruffled the mane of a young stallion. He didn’t mind though, his light brown gleaming coat now black from raiding garbage piles every few miles, occasionally finding something of value like irradiated food or some ammo for the small hoofgun he wielded. His mane was a deep blue, while partially covering his horn, and his tail, too. His tail wasn’t naturally blue, just dyed for a reason only he knew and could never tell. He wore a tattered, faded red watch that was completely useless. One because there was no night and day anymore, and two being that it didn’t work. But he kept it with him and never took it off for it had been the only thing his parents had given him.

        He was on a journey to find what had happened to cause all of this. He also was looking for any other survivors. There were only a few vaults in all of Equestria to shelter ponies. Alas, none could occupy no more than about 200. Most were opened for the survivors to escape, others weren’t so lucky as in the mutated creatures that were left found their own way in. A shame, indeed. Though he wasn’t going to go and search through them for ponies who hadn’t left, as they were probably gone, their lives taken by the monsters that roamed. Eventually he would come across somepony, only to watch their life be taken away in horror as they were unequipped for the situation at hoof. He tried to help mostly, only to fail. And so, he lurched on, unable to grasp the scene for a moment, then surrounded a partially burned book with a pen tied to it in a green aura marking another tally mark under “Seen Deaths” then tucked it into the seemingly small pouch around his neck. He then threw the pouch over his shoulder only to find something had fallen out. It was a small note with handwriting barely legible. He thought of how it got there, took a slight glance, then shrugged it off, placing it back to the pouch.

        He trudged on wearily, to find a small village. It looked as new as it could get, like it had been built recently or preserved as best as possible. He decided to check the buildings for something of use, or to find somepony there at the very least. As he approached, he heard loud banging and squealing. Charging at the town, he soon saw a large, somewhat bluish-green mutant trying to break down a door. Only assuming there was a poor soul protecting itself inside, he charged with the hoofgun. Trying to shoot, he instantly heard a clicking from the gun, noting it was empty. The mutant turned to see the stallion, then instantly started running toward him. Learning he had no time to reload, he picked up a nearby pipe with his horn and swung it at the monster. Hitting it in the head, it was knocked out instantly. Still wielding the pipe, he decided to smash the strange skull.

After finishing, he went to check the building where the screaming was to check on the pony trapped inside. It was strangely dark inside, seeing the windows on the outside. The stallion cautiously walked through the shack. A dark figure darting across the room at all angles. Reloading the gun, he looked around to see a mane. Not seeing the color because of the darkness, he conjured a ball of light and stuck it the ceiling to light the room. He spotted the mane and now saw the color. It was a light pink and curled at the end a little. He peeked around the box where the mare was hiding to find she was of a yellowish color. The eyes, mostly hidden by the large mane, were of a baby blue color. It was a pegasus by the looks of it, as the wings were half hidden by a sheet she had tried to duck under. Her cutie mark was three butterflies in a triangle. She was trembling, so I decided to try and calm her down a little. “What happened?” I asked, speaking as gently as possible.

“I-I don’t know...” her light, quiet voice trailed off, “I was in a small hut eating the small morsel of food I had received from a caring friend, then...” she stopped for a second as a small tear ran down her cheek, then continued, “then she left me to check on a noise outside. I heard a crunch then saw her fly away with a broken leg. I decided to run out the back door and found this place after a while.” She stood up and walked away. He caught a glimpse of her bandaged wing and assumed why she ran.

“Your okay now. I made sure it was thoroughly dead and to drag it into one of the other houses.” He informed.

“Oh, um, thanks. What’s your name?” The mare asked.

“Just call me M for now.”

“Well, um, thanks M. My n-name is Fluttershy.”

“It’s nice to see somepony who isn’t de-” I stopped, thinking that mentioning other ponies dead would set her off, “I mean, nice to meet you.”

“Is there anypony else with you?”

“There hasn’t been for what seems like 5 years now.”