Wrath of My Righteous Little Ponies

“Thirsty?” Striker asked trotting quickly to catch up with Greenery. Greenery looked at him questioningly as he reached a hoof seemingly too deeply into a pocket of his coat and drew out a pair of flasks that were too big not to have caused the pocket to bulge. Actually his whole hoof had disappeared into the pocket without causing more than the top to stick out around it. Greenery found herself again surprise at Striker’s wealth, she’d heard of extradimensional bags that could hold far more than their volume suggested. But to have such magic made into the pocket of a garment must be expensive. Greenery had experienced little of magic beyond potions and her mother’s demon slaying sword.

“You should drink one yourself,” Greenery answered taking one of the potions.

“Naww,” Striker shook his head and flapped his wing until he was hovering next to her. He reached into a pocket with his other hoof and produced two more flasks. “I have a couple more for myself, so go on and patch yourself up.”

Greenery stared a moment in surprise before she shook her head with a chuckle and accepted the second potion. They drank them down together and felt the pain leave their bodies, the bruises that were forming unseen under armor and clothing ceased and faded away.

“Thanks,” Greenery said as Striker landed and tucked the empty flasks into a third pocket. Greenery noted that at least he wasn’t wasteful. They had entered an area that had gone untouched by the destruction the move powerful demon had wrought on the rest of the city.

“So… tell me about your wife,” Striker asked in an exaggeratedly casual tone giving her a sidelong glance.

“Gold Guard?” Greenery gave a start and looked at him with confusion. She guessed it was an ordinary enough question for him to ask consider their situation, but there was something the way he asked that marked it as being oddly conversational rather than a practical question.

“What a perfectly paladin name,” Striker gave a little laugh and nodded smiling brightly, “Yes tell me about Gold Guard.”

“What do you want to know?” She gave him an odd look as if trying to fathom the reason for his interest.

“Everything,” He answered cheerfully giving no impression but the most innocent sense of curiosity. But as if reading her mind he added playful, “I must be sure my lady’s wife is of a most irrefutable character less I be forced to most adamantly protest the marriage.”

Greenery found herself chuckling at Striker dramatic speech. For a moment she forgot what was happening and even added in her own playful way. “Surely for only the most noble and altruistic of motives.”

“Surely,” He confirmed with a nod and a wink this time exciting a giggle from the mare.

“Gold is…” Greenery started the smile on her lips now turning a little distant and sad as her thoughts turned fully on her lost love. “Good.”

Striker watched Greenery for a moment waiting for her to say more. When she continued to let the word hang on the air Striker replied playfully. “Good, well that’s a ringing endorsement, but I wouldn’t trading it in for your ‘I love you’s just yet.”

“No,” Greenery jumped realizing the plainness of the word she’d just used to describe Gold. She scrunched up her face and glared at Striker as if it were his fault the word seemed to fall so short. Striker just smiled back innocently and Greenery resisted the urge to give the thin pegasus a playful punch. “I meant she is goodness, like everything good ponies strive to be, that’s what Gold is. She kind and honest, and gives whatever she can to help other ponies. Even if she can’t do anything else she’ll help out at the temple by preparing meals and changing bandages or even just sit and read to a pony.”

A content smile came to Greenery’s lips as she stared off and described her beloved Gold to Striker. Eventually she looked over at him again and he was sharing her smile and chuckling at her flighty description. “You’ll like her when you meet her, every pony does.”

“No doubt,” Striker agreed and let out a slightly sad sigh feeling the keen sting of losing his Lady to another yet again. But he refused to let bad feelings seep into his heart while he had Greenery with him now and was responsible for keeping her spirit up until they found her Gold. “So how’d you two meet? Paladin sorority sisters? If so I’ll have to seriously reconsider my career choice.”

“No,” Greenery laughingly scoffed rolling her amused eyes at him. “Gold’s not a paladin, she a…” Greenery paused to consider her words, Gold’s unique skill set was hard to put into a word without associating her with a less than savory crowd. “A scout and specializes in investigating ponies who might be less than savory.”

“Ahh she a rogue, what an unusual pair you two must make. I do hope she’s not a bad influence on such a perfectly upstanding pony such as you my lady.” Striker teased, laughing playfully at the snort and genuine glare she shot him this time.

“Not as bad as you would have been I think,” Greenery countered in a playful jab that she recognized as being unusual for her with anyone except Gold. “Why don’t you try talking about yourself for a while and we’ll find out.”

“Me? What would you want to know?” He asked giving her a look of mock curiosity.

“Everything,” Greenery answered pointedly. “A lady must be sure her friends are of a most irrefutable character less she be forced to break off the friendship.”

Striker laughed at their turn of roles, but there was a hollow note in his tone that Greenery thankfully missed. He considered lying for a moment, but only a brief one, realizing he just didn’t have it in him to lie to his lady.

“I was born here, but I left when I was just a colt,” Striker began thinking maybe a connection to a crusader city might give him some credit in Greenery’s eyes. He found himself looking around at the surrounding buildings as if he might recognize them.

“Why?” Greenery ventured to ask her smile fading as Striker’s thoughts took him away from her.

“Oh I’d managed to get myself lost in the Worldwound and my dad went in to find me and just never came back.” Striker said with a shrug turning his smile back on for Greenery. “So I ended up in Canterlot with my relatives.”

She didn’t follow suit with the smile and seemed to miss his casual tone all together. “I’m sorry Striker, I lost my mother to the demons too. At the Eagle Rock massacre.” She forgot for a moment that as neither a crusader nor a pony who had lived in the city for years Striker would know nothing of that incident. “All they could recover was her sword.”

Greenery felt the cool flap of a wing falling over her withers. She looked up to find that Striker was now leaning against her as they walked, he wasn’t quite as tall as she was but he did stand a little taller than most stallions. He held up a hoof to her as if offering it for a hoof bump, “Orphan life yo.”

Greenery let out a very small laugh at him, “I wasn’t a filly when it happened, and don’t think you can get out of telling about yourself either.” Greenery gave Striker a playful shove off of her, “So you went to Canterlot did you come over here with a group of Canterlot crusaders? I hear Queen Celestia’s army trains some of the best paladins. Celestia and Canterlot have been fighting the demons since the beginning of the crusades.”

“No, like I said I just do my own thing, I wasn’t really interested in the crusades.” Greenery gave him a baffled look at that and Striker tried to laugh off her surprise, nervously running a hoof through his mane. “There’s actually a bunch of nobles who don’t care about the crusades at all, they just act like it’s not happening.”

“They just pretend there aren’t ponies dying over here so that they homes aren’t overrun by demons.” Greenery fumed the thought of such ponies in contrast to her parents caused her fur to bristle and her cat eyes to narrow into thin slits.

Striker nodded a little reluctantly, that was hardly the worst of it. The criticism espoused by such ponies when someone did bring up the crusades would have probably thrown Greenery into an all-out rage. He wouldn’t bring that up but there was more he had to confess about himself that she wouldn’t find flattering.

“So besides ignoring dying ponies what did you and those ponies do?” Greenery’s words were a little cutting, but Striker didn’t protest them.

“Not a thing, my friends and I went to parties during the day, went drinking at night and slept the morning away. Any pony caught getting up before two in the afternoon would not hear the end of it for days.” Striker tried to give a little chuckle at hoping the humor would soften Greenery’s response. It didn’t and his humor died seeing the angry look on Greenery’s face.

“You just spent all your time drinking your lives away,” She scoffed now refusing to even look at him.

Striker would have liked it to end there, but he felt compelled to finish the picture of his youth. As much as he didn’t want Greenery to see him in such an unsavory light, the thought of it hanging over their friendship was worse. “No we slept around, gambled, and did drugs too.”

“Drugs?” Greenery nearly shrieked. She’d seen evils far greater than mere narcotics, but she never seen anything else so effectively turn a pony from the righteous path.

Striker nodded now the one unwilling to make eyes contact with her. “Angel’s Trumpet when we wanted to do something exciting, Euphorica when we had to patch ourselves up afterwards, Harlot Sweets to charm that hard to get mare, Honeydust before a show, Midnight Milk if we couldn’t sleep, and everything else as well looking for that next new experience.”

“Enough!” Greenery shouted cutting him off she turned a glare upon him her cat eyes cutting through his as effectively as her sword would have.

“You asked Greenery, I’m just trying to be honest with you.” Striker said pleadingly, then gave her a hopeful grin and added, “I’m not used to being honest with mares, so you have to forgive me if I’m no good at it.”

Greenery didn’t find him funny this time, snorting she asked, “Why’d you come here then. If you and your friends were living it up in Canterlot why leave?”

“Dreamtime tea,” Striker said pointedly as if it should have some meaning to her, but all Greenery knew was that it was another drug, one that gave a pony strange dreams when taken. Seeing the confusion on her face he explained. “When I took it I had this dream I was floating in among the stars. Suddenly I saw this beautiful black alicorn with butterfly wings and pearly white fangs.”

He paused as his eyes moved to Greenery’s small fang-like tusks that curved up from her bottom lip. “I’d never seen anything like her and she says to me, ‘My son I’m disappointed in you. You have not let your wings carry you to far off lands and the treasures that lie in such places.’ It struck me that she was right, that I had this desire to go out and see new things and I never did. Then she says, ‘I’ve sent your sister on ahead, go back to the place you first met and you’ll find her again.’ Now that confused me because I don’t have a sister, let alone one I’d ever met. I felt myself sinking away from the dream and I asked, ‘I don’t understand where do I go?’ And she calls back, ‘You already know.’ I’m falling back reality now, literally falling and suddenly it hits me, ‘Manehattan?’ I called and she just smiled at me and I woke up.”

Greenery frowned at him, “You got high, had a weird dream and decided ‘I’m going to go to the front line of the crusades’?”

“Ya and it worked out didn’t it,” He nodded with a grin, but Greenery just continued to stare at him critically. Until he added, “I met you didn’t I.”

Greenery scoffed hardly finding that to be any kind of proof that his drug addled dream had meant anything. She did have to admit, however, that if he hadn’t arrived when he did she would have suffered something worse than death at the hands of that incubus. Chaos or fate, whatever was responsible for bringing Striker to Manehattan she owed it a thanks.

Suddenly their conversation was forgotten as her and Gold’s simple home came into sight. Greenery to gallop the last several feet to door heedless of any danger that might be lingering nearby.

Greenery’s sudden rush alarmed Striker at first, and he took to the air to see if some danger had found them. He swept his eyes on the surrounding buildings, but seeing nothing quickly dropped down to land next to her. He realized that they had finally arrived at her home as she reached for the handle of the door.

Greenery nearly tore the unlocked door off its hinges as she threw it open and called out for Gold, but there was no answer. She rush to their bedroom door and threw it open as well calling again but again received no answer. The bedroom was neat and untouched, the bed made just as they had left it that morning. Not wasting a second she raced back through the main room past where Striker stood at the door watching her with concerned eyes. She tore open the kitchen door finding it just as empty and neat as the other rooms.

Greenery eyes began to blur and she let out an agonizing cry and sunk to the ground hammering the floor with her hoof. Her anger and fear were too much for her to handle anymore and without even the excuse of needed to be strong for the ponies under her command it all came rushing out.

Then Greenery gasped as she felt the soft touch of feathers on the back of her neck and looked up to see Striker settle down next to her. She suddenly felt very embarrassed by her outburst and quickly bit back any further tears and sobs as she started to apologize for her outburst. He hushed her and said something that echoed her own mother’s words. “You’re home, you’re allowed to cry here.”

And cry she did.