CHAPTER ONE

“Mom… Mom?”

A dark lavender filly sat next to the limp body of a peach mare. Even though the elder mare, Lavender Melody, was still alive, her breaths were quick and shallow. She was extremely exhausted, having been walking miles and miles over the waste of Equestria and its ruins.

Old. Lavender was getting old, and the Slavers were getting tired of her. Her once lovely beauty was starting to fade, and what kept her alive - her melodious voice that entertained Slavers - was beginning to become rough. Like most things, she wasn't meant to last.

While Lavender had luckily avoided the leftover radiation of the baelfire missiles, there were other dangers within the wild. While most had expected the Last Day to end the world, evolved animals, deadly mutations and sadistic ponies were the main attraction of this bloody chapter in history. The official war with the Zebras had ended, and yet, that didn't mean the chaos had stopped. After all, war never changes.

So here she was, lying on her probable death bed, which was really a cold, cement floor, her fifteen-year-old daughter at her side.

“Shh, it's going to be okay. Shh,” Lavender whispered. Salty tears flowed down the younger pony’s face.

“Mom, it's not okay!” Violet grasped her mother’s right front hoof. “Please… Please don't leave me…”

“My dear Vi...”

A gravelly, rough voice interrupted the moment between mother and daughter. “Ay, cut the cheesy crap, will ya? Want yer damn tongue cut out?” The Slaver who had been watching over the ‘merchandise' gave off a sickeningly sweet smile.

“And damage the goods? Our speciality is singing for you, is it not?” Lavender retorted, rather brave, or foolish, for the position she was in. “Isn't that what your buyer wants?”

The smile left the Slaver’s muzzle. “Shut yer fucking mouth.”

“Mom -” Violet began.

“But you're scared of your buyer,” Lavender continued. Her purple and pink hair, which was starting to become grey, hung over her face. “And I'm dying. Better not harm my daughter.” The mare coughed up a bit of blood after the threat.

The pony glared and called over a fellow Slaver before walking up to the mare and shoving Violet aside. “Don't test me, you piece of shit!” He shouted and kicked the mare, over and over. “Doesn't mean I can't bring any harm to ya! One slave is good enough! Our buyer just wants the kid!”

"Stop it! Stop!” Violet pleaded, but her cries landed on deaf ears as she was pinned down by the other pony, an even larger and more muscular stallion. The young mare wrinkled her nose in disgust and grit her teeth as the Slaver above her grazed his dark muzzle against her dark purple, silver and lilac mane. She turned her head to the side, hoping to catch a glimpse of her mother, but the coughing and yells of Lavender ceased.

“Your mum ain't going to protect you no more, girly,” the Slaver on top of her smirked.

“Isn't she a bit young for ya, Crimson? Kid ain't even got a cutie mark.” The Slaver who had beaten Lavender walked up beside Crimson.

“But a mighty pretty one, for sure. I'm sure our buyer won't mind if we play with their merchandise, no?”

Violet shook her head and yelped as Crimson nipped her ear. “Get off of me! You killed her!”

While Violet was a unicorn, along with her mother, both of them had a certain collar placed on their horns that stopped them from using magic. She had been lucky until this point - never violated by the sickening, sadistic ponies, but that luck would run out. All she could do was scream for help, albeit the little to no chance of a saviour. Lavender had always said to never let anypony do this to her. She should give up her precious gift to the person she loved - not some forceful, cruel Slaver.

“Shut the fuck up or I'll beat ya just like your dear old mum,” Crimson said coldly as he stuffed a wad of cloth in her mouth, paying no mind to what had just crept up behind him and killed his colleague. For the most part, Violets’ eyes were shut, but what she did hear was a loud gunshot, before the Slaver’s body fell on her still-small frame. She opened her eyes to find the stallion with a large amount of blood trickling down his forehead before shoving the corpse off with all her might. Spitting out the makeshift gag, she looked up to find a dull maroon, male earth pony, clad in leather armour, who was rummaging through the dead Slaver’s supplies. His mane was blood red, streaks of orange and gold highlighting it. His build was a little larger than average, but he wasn't as muscular as the stallion whom he had just shot in the head. The mark on his right flank showed the silhouette of a pistol, and his left front leg was cuffed by a metallic device.

Was this a friendly being? The stallion had, after all, killed the Slavers, but why? Never had Violet experienced kindness from one other than her mother. Was he a raider? No. He would most likely be in a group. Was he a merchant? Improbable. He would have had a guard and an animal for transport. Deep in thought, Violet never bothered to realize that the strange pony was staring right at her.

“Eh, you okay there?”

Violet snapped to attention. “Ah, y-yes! Thank you… erm…”

The stallion eyed her curiously. “Caliber. Bloodshot Caliber.” A silent pause made the situation even more awkward for the two. Bloodshot coughed, as if to wake her from some trance. “And you are?”

“Oh! Er, Violet!” Her cheerful demeanor faded back to a solemn one. “Violet Lace, sir,” she answered softly, glancing back to where her mother’s body lay, but she quickly looked back to the pony before her. “Why'd you help me? Those Slavers… They could have easily killed you.”

Bloodshot scoffed and took out a small pocket knife. “Easily killed me? I'm eighteen, not some kid. Do I really look that scrawny?”

Violet took note of the many guns and other weapons stashed in the stallion’s belt and gulped subtly. “No! Not at all! It's just, I mean -”

Bloodshot noticed her fearful look and followed her gaze to his knife. “I'm not going to hurt you, alright?”

He said, trying to sound gentle as he slowly approached the mare. His statement wasn't the thing that kept her frozen - it was fear. She closed her eyes, waiting for something bad to happen. But instead, the tough leather cuffs around her hooves, which had bound her to a nearby tree, fell to the ground.

“It wouldn't kill you to trust others at least once in awhile. We aren't all crazy, you know,” Bloodshot sighed. “Then again, I have no idea how you grew u - aaaah!”

Despite being only three-fourth of Bloodshot’s size, Violet engulfed the stallion in a large hug. “Thank you,” she whispered. “But,” she let go, “I heard the Slavers say that our, er, ‘buyer,’ was dangerous. You… You shouldn’t have set me free.”

“About that…” Bloodshot paused and ruffled his mane. “I’m your ‘buyer.’”

Violet’s eyes widened. “B-but -”

“Don’t get me wrong! I did buy you and.. well.. your mother, but my plan was to set the both of you two free. I… I’m sorry about your mom.” He cast a stray glance at Lavender’s still figure. “I told them not to hurt you two.”

“... It wasn’t your fault.”

Another moment of silence passed between the two before Bloodshot broke the quiet. “Shit, the sky's getting darker. We should get to New Appleloosa.”

“New… Appleloosa?”

“Yeah. It’s a settlement not too far from here - about an hour or so. I have my own place there. You can stay with me until you find your own thing to do, heh.”

Violet stared at the ground. “Does… Does this make us friends, then?” Bloodshot smiled.

“Yes. Yes, it does.”

** *** * *** **

On the way to New Appleloosa were a few Raider hideouts. The pair were lucky to have avoided them, as the stench of rotten flesh was obvious enough to evade. Of what Bloodshot had seen from past experiences, he didn't want Violet to know the horrors after all that she'd been through.

He shook the memories of blood-painted walls, streamers of intestines and chunks of red flesh, left to rot in open air, from his mind. In Stable 2, he had been taught that Equestria had thrived off of friendship and harmony before the Great War against the Zebra Nation. The fallout of the Last Day wasn't the only thing to kill. The absence of resources and order drove ponies and other creatures to succumb to the worst of sins. The once powerful empire of Equestria was now an empty nightmare that the creator of Stable-Tec had somehow foreseen, years before the megaspells forced the world into a never ending cycle of violence. Neighbors became enemies to one another, breaking apart the peace, and both sides took up the goal of not only defence - but conquest. Equestria had plunged into the grasp of baelfire and dark magic, the results lasting for hundreds of years beyond its beginning. When it came to survival, the choices of good and evil didn't matter. For most situations in this bleak world, it was kill or be killed.

May the souls of Celestia and Luna have mercy upon them all.

Compared to the rest of the Wasteland, New Appleloosa was thriving with ponies. The old Appleloosa, the pre-war settlement, had been converted into Slaver territory, Violet learned. Unlike the ruins of old Appleloosa and Fillydelphia, the residents weren’t bent on bringing harm and misfortune to newcomers. In fact, quite a few of the ponies, ghouls and whoever-was-there had greeted both Violet and Bloodshot with a hearty smile and/or wave. Maybe they were well off enough here to escape, or at least hold off, the darker side of themselves.

Other than still-standing, antique buildings, the town was built from the rusted tin train cars and old wood salvaged from the pre-war ruins of an old train station. A tall border of firm metal train parts and an organized group of guards surrounded the settlement, protecting the residents from a combination of natural, or mutated, dangers and hostile outsiders. A single, fortified fate marked the town’s main (and only) entrance. New Appleloosa was a well-known trading center, proven by a few merchants who had their merchandise laid out before them. Surprisingly, a few train cars and engines will still in proper use - as they were to transport merchandise to wherever-the-rails-led. The sun, which was still thought to be controlled by the spirit of the Goddess Celestia, hung low in the sky, and the Wasteland was tinted in vibrant shades of yellow, orange and red. Had this lovely sunset taken place two centuries ago, many would have appreciated its beautiful colours, but instead, for the residents of the Equestrian Wasteland, it marked another night of possible terrors and the repeat of a single routine.

Violet tugged on Bloodshot’s jacket. “Er, could you, please, walk a little faster…?” Her voice was slightly unsteady, and her eyes were shining with unease.

“We’re safe in New Appleloosa, and you’re with me. There’s not need to be scared.” Bloodshot smiled, hoping to calm down the nervous mare.

Violet looked off to the side and bit her lower lip, knowing that she’d have to explain her nervousness sooner or later, but instead, another thought somehow ended up in her mind:

A mare and a stallion, not related by any means, staying in the same house together. For Celestia’s sake, they had a four year gap! That’s enough to start a few rumours! How many others had he saved? How many mares had he saved and brought home?!

Luna, that’s a four year gap!!!

“Hey, Violet. Violet! Shit.. Snap out of it!” The marron stallion shook the mare gently as if waking her from a trance.

“Y-yes?!” Violet accidently walked into a metal wall before stumbling backwards and shaking her head violently. “I’m so sorry! I space out a lot…”

Bloodshot stared at her and sighed in both worry and disappointment. How had she not been killed by monsters with this kind of attention span? “Come on, we’re here.”

Violet moved her gaze from her companion to the metal wall before her. Actually - no - it wasn’t just a metal wall. It was an old train car, similar to the others in most aspects, which had been converted into living quarters. As Bloodshot opened the door, stale air exited the single-room home. From the state of the air, Violet concluded that Bloodshot must travel a lot, never staying in New Appleloosa for too long.

Two rusted stools sat in front of a cold, metal table. A couch, worn down over the years, lay below the house’s only window. A single bed was tucked away in the corner of the room, a large, wooden chest at its foot. Other than the main furniture and a built-in wooden shelf on the far wall were scattered papers, books and other oddities. While having one’s own home was already a luxury, there was no bathroom. Plumbing was expensive, so most ponies used the public restrooms.

Bloodshot put down all the belongings he was carrying and rubbed his tired eyes with one hoof. “You can take the couch. It’s actually a lot softer than the damn bed,” he offered before lying down on the mattress, his back to his guest.

Violet looked at the couch for a moment before lying down on it. She had never felt anything so soft before. Most of the time, she had lay down on cement floors or plain dirt. Slaves were obviously unable to afford any such luxury. How many bottle caps did this stallion have?

Despite having more comfort on this couch than she ever thought possible, Violet couldn’t sleep. She merely watched as the light from the single window dim for at least half an hour. So much had happened in one day: Her mother had died, she had made an ally and she was safe. None of this was believable to her, but the load of memories wasn’t what kept her awake.

“Hey… Bloodshot?” She gulped subtly. “Are you awake..?” Violet whispered. A moment of silence followed. Violet sighed and was about to close her eyes when -

“Yeah. I’m awake.” Bloodshot turned to face Violet. “Can’t sleep?”

“Mmhmm…” The mare’s lilac eyes scanned the room. “Do… Do you have a candle?”

“Yes. Why?” Bloodshot gave Violet a questioning look.

She paused. “I’m scared of the dark.” Violet expected him to scoff or roll his eyes. After all, being scared of the dark was a silly thing. She wasn’t a child anymore, and besides, she wasn’t being held captive. Reasonably, in the moment, she had nothing to fear.

But instead, Bloodshot replied with a plain, “Oh.” He got up and rummage through the wooden shelf until he found a lighter and candlestick.

Within a few seconds, a small, but fairly bright, flame engulfed the candle’s wick. Bloodshot set the light on the rusted table, clearing the metal surface of everything even remotely flammable. Violet smiled at the source of light, taking in what little warmth it provided in the cramped space.

“Thanks,” she mumbled softly.

Bloodshot gave her a sleepy smile before going back to the couch. “Tomorrow morning, we’ll get that magic blocker off. Better sleep soon. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

And Violet went to sleep with a flame of her own growing deep within her heart, still watching the beautiful flame dance before her. Tonight, for the first time in a long time, she would finally receive sweet dreams.

Author's Note

Oh, and this story is also published on wattpad, btw, under the username I_Am_The_Raven.