Light poured in from the sky, through a small opening in the clouds there was a blue cover and a blinding white light. Was that… the sky? The real sky, not just clouds that covered everything, but the real pegasus damned sky.

It was beautiful.

“Yeah so there's a hole in the sky now! That happened… You lost a looot of blood, so here I am dragging you. You’re too heavy to carry, which is weird because you’re so tiny… I have you tied up because I can’t really trust you not to try and walk it off, you are in a reeeally bad way and I don’t want Vetta to kill me if you die,” he paused for a moment and started looking around away from me, when his eyes finally met mine he continued. “I… uh… I kinda lost Vetta. Don’t kill me!”

He was standing far back from me, so I couldn't hit him, especially while bound. So I just glared with the most intensity I could, I’d like to think I looked scary, but while I was bound and practically curled up in a teeny ball I doubted I looked very vicious.

My only hope was that I would be freed soon so I could pummel Strike and get on my way to getting back Vetta. She was the one thing keeping me alive, her and lots of alcohol, without her what would I do? Creep around in the unknown and give people a slightly longer life? What was the point of that if they were just going to end up dying later?

I practically fumed from my nostrils as I stared into his jade eyes, although he was a cocky bitch he did look a little sorry. I motioned toward the rope hoping he would get the hint and start pulling toward wherever it was we were going. He took a step toward me like he was anticipating a radigator to bite him, and grabbed the rope.

“See thing is, I don’t know where we are going. I want to try and find your marefriend but I also need to get you to a hospital, you’ve been out for a while… So which is it? Tap twice for hospital once for Vetta.”

As much as I wanted to get help, I was also stubborn. And what would be the point without Vetta? Although we weren’t extremely close yet, she was my one light in the darkness. And I’ve learned from my time in the wastes that you can’t always hide in the dark. I would tough this out, right?

I tapped once.

“Uhm are you sure? Like, you lost quite a bit of blood, and I don’t even know if you can walk,” He looked legitimately concerned for a moment, but upon seeing the resolve in my eyes he just shrugged. “Whatever you say. Think you can walk?”

I nodded and he stepped closer to remove the taut rope around my hooves. As he pulled them off I could feel the difference of actually having blood flow through my legs. I put a little pressure on each as I attempted to stand on the weak limbs. As I put pressure and tried to lift myself I felt woozy and like I was swirling.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go to a hospital?” He moved over next to me in attempt to help support me. I pushed him back with what excess strength I had. I could do this on my own, I didn’t need any help.

*SMACK* Okay maybe a little help. I spit the dirt out of my mouth and leaned into Strike using him to lift as much weight I could. As I pushed into him I realized just how strong he was.

His tough build resist mine with such ease it was pathetic. He was firm and warm, and every nerve tingled as I pushed into him. Okay I needed a lot of help. I pushed with everything I had to just get onto my hooves, blood loss was never a problem for me before, and experiencing it first hoof wasn’t the ideal way of finding out how bad it was.

“It feels like you’re trying to murder me with a feather, and you’re sure you can walk? I really don’t want you to go passing out on me, that just means more carrying,” he was going to get smacked when I had the energy.

After what felt like an eternity I finally stood on all three hooves, my wounded lifted slightly, and I was still nearly two feet shorter than Strike. I was really small huh? And I was the “leader” of our ragtag trio. Oh right Vetta was gone, duo.

“I found some gear while I was meandering, it’s not much but it’s better than nothing,” he reached behind him into his saddlebags and pulled out a few items. Among them was a shiny dagger, that shimmered elegantly like the sun above and seemed like it was calling to me. There was a tattered drifters outfit that was made of brown leather, and looked worse for wear but good enough to be repaired and stuffed with metal for impromptu armor. And finally he pulled out a stark black gas mask with filters protruding from either side and tinted lenses that made it look like something that lurked beyond the realm of the living.

“I got dibs on the mask, it looks cool and I’m going to make it even cooler wearing it. That’s all I had, sorry, maybe you can get rid of that holey recon suit for the drifter coat, it’d make you look cooler, just saying.”

He should say less. I loved this suit, it moved nicely and felt good to wear. Sure it was getting a little old, but it worked just fine. I gave a light scoff and he just looked puzzled.

“Wait, you make noise? Since when? I thought you were silent…”

I put a hoof to the dirt and spelled out ‘Mute’ and turned back to him with a look that implied he was an idiot. He seemed to get the message so I turned and tried to start walking, not before admiring the sunlight one last time.

It was like nothing I had ever seen, it was the purest form of beauty, and that’s just what ponies lived with in olden times. It was weird that light could be so appealing to me, me who loves the shadows, but I couldn’t not admire the spectacle that would so soon be taken away. How could it last? Nothing beautiful lasted in the wasteland, nothing heroic either. Everything that is good must be stripped of any remnant of joy it brings ponies. That’s just how it has always worked, and it always will.

Strike moved up next to me and tried to force me into leaning into his side (Well, legs really. Being short was dumb) and I just sort of accepted it. I was in poor condition and I was probably making it worse, but at least he just let me be an idiot.

“So, let me catch you up a little on our situation with the slavers. After you blacked out again, believe me I was paying attention to you, a bunch of insurgents showed up with stuff we couldn’t combat. Like, they had well kept service rifles and them 7.62 NATO sure hurt like hell. Anyway, they had air support with snipers, so we were pretty much boned. I tried to make my way to you and get us out but those guys sure knew what they were doing. A griffon pinned me, and I can’t say for sure what happened to Vetta at this point, but a bunch of guys were starting to surround us.

Next thing I know them Steel Rangers showed up and gave them something to chew on, lots and lost of bullets. While they were busy fucking with the ponified tanks of the wastes I snatched you up and started to get the hell out of there. One of them high calibre rifles started to punch the Rangers in the heads and they started to drop. By then we were already on our way and they stopped bothering us, but I doubt our standings with the Fillydelphia Slavers is very good any more.”

That was the most anyone had ever said to me in one go, and it took me a while to process it all. I was used to being alone and not having to listen to others, so having to process nearly 200 words in a short time was hard.

“After they were gone I went and checked out Vetta’s roost, but all that was left was some shell casings. Sorry again.” He was fading away from his monotonous soldier like drawl and more into something resembling a country dialect.

My shambling was slowing us down a lot. We had barely made it 200 feet and nearly half an hour had passed. Our usual rate of nearly a mile in an hour was starting to become a fantasy with how much damage I was starting to get to my leg. The buildings within view were still in view not far behind

All I was doing was slowing him down…

“You good? You seem to be zoning out, you’re not gonna pass out on me are ya’?”

I shook my head and focused purely on walking. That would have been pretty easy, had Strike not continued talking.

“So where are we going to look? I don't really have any ideas where she would be, and if she was trying to hide she would be nearly impossible to find. If I could fly, I would look around from above, but I gotta carry your sorry ass. Other than that I have no Idea where we could look, do you?”

Fuck, I didn't think this through. It would be so much easier if I wasn’t practically dying. We might as well go to a hospital, I can only hope Vetta can handle herself for long enough. Although it was starting to get dark.

The sun was gone and so was the hole on the cloud layer. Everything looked so gloomy without the shining effect of the sun shimmering off of everything, it would have been amazing to see Luna’s night. Although that was just a dream, I would never be so lucky.

I shook my head and Strike scoffed.

“Of course not… Well, can we just get you to a hospital? There is no point in looking for someone without any trace of a hint of where they are. Please?”

What. Did he just say please? That was fuckin’ weird.

I nod slowly and sadly, letting my head fall into the somber motion. Then he looked at me oddly.

“Really? That… was easier than I thought.”

I rolled my eyes although he wasn't really looking I hoped he could just sense my annoyance. He was really a jerk and I wanted to not have to be alone with him anymore.

Then a scream broke through the air, but not a normal scream. It was a child… I really hoped somepony wasn't fucking a kid, because we were gonna have some real issues. I don't care that I’m wounded, they were going to pay, maybe.

I could feel Strike tense at the sound of the scream, he almost started running, (or flying not sure how it works) I could feel it in the way his muscles reacted and shifted. He picked me up and threw me over his back, he didn’t even strain at my weight, running toward the sound of the scream.

“I know this whole saving ponies thing is your schtick, but I wanna try my new mask out!” he said, not even panting in the slightest. He was running with extra weight at amazing speeds and he wasn’t even tiring, there was no way he didn't train or something.

He threw on the gas mask, and turned into a badass. The mask covered his face and made him look expressionless, although his terrifying grin couldn't be seen, you could feel it. I was on his back and I knew he was smiling like he just got a new weapon. It wasn't long before I threw mine on with magic, I might not look as intimidating but I sure as hell had a name to keep.

I couldn’t say how long exactly we ran, but it was a fair while and the screams still didn’t stop. When they were within distance we stopped running and slowed to a crawling pace.

Strike peeked around the corner and brought his head back quickly.

“Here, take the dagger. I’m gonna go around and we’ll ambush ‘em.”

For a moment I wondered why I needed a dagger, then I realized. ”WHERE THE FUCK IS MY GUN!” I mentally swore, this was not okay. Before I could attempt to complain, Strike was gone into the air, silently disappearing behind the building.

I twirled the blade in my magic and let it twist on it’s hilt for a moment, inspecting it. It was wonderfully crafted, the grip was etched with images of ponies in battle and the blade was so perfectly crafted it made me shudder. The grip was black with gold etches and the guard was a standard silver. It couldn’t have been longer than six inches, but that would be good for me because I wasn't use to blades and would likely break it otherwise.

I did mourn for my beautiful and reliable gun, but this blade would be a fair substitute until I got it back. And I was going to get it back. I’m really starting to get a long list of things I’m missing.

I caught a glimpse of The Angel on the other side, his mask hiding him in the shadows, I could see fairly well in the dark so spotting him prowling in the shadows wasn’t very hard. I wasn’t too light headed anymore, mainly thanks to the adrenaline pumping through me at the sounds of screaming, so I tried to cast my spell and it worked. I moved, slowly but surely, closer to the raider standing in front of a cage, the only cage in the small makeshift camp.

As I inspected the soon to be dead, I noticed something a little different about him. He was wearing barding that had words inscribed on the sides reading, “Murphy’s Marauders”. That was pretty corny if I was asked. It didn't matter who’s marauder he was, he was still just watching this kid writhe in the cage.

Wait. No he wasn't. He was trying to get the lock open? What the fuck? I waited until he got the lock open then shot a glance to Strike, after removing my spell. Strike flew out with an impressive speed and pinned him to the dirt. I looked over to the kid still twitching in the cage then turned to the marauder.

“I swears I wasn’t gon’ do nuthin’! I was just gonna rob ‘em thas it, then they was free to go!” He talked in a ganger type of accent that was really annoying. Every letter was practically slurred into the next and it made him hard to understand, like he was talking in cursive.

“Murphy’s Marauders? What do they do, are they trouble?” Strike had his commanding, soldier-esque voice back, and it was intimidating. The stallion practically trembled under him, feeling his eyes bury into him and his raspy breathing through the filters could really terrify somepony if they were in his situation.

“No, we’re just thugs. We don’ go killin’ jus’ for fun or nuthin. We’re civilized to an extent, other than tha occasional brawl, we usually jus steal or well, do marauder things.”

“Why are you trying to rob somepony in a cage? What would they have to give you, other than their life I suppose. Your story doesn’t add up,” The mask made Strikes voice sound a little deeper and it gave it a fuzzy kind of sound that made it all the more petrifying.

“I’m just doing as I was told mister! I was told my Mr. Murphy to come here and handle this kid. That’s all I was told, to come to this camp and get ‘em outta the cage. Murphy teaches us how to pick locks, pickpocket, and even persuade people into a better deal. We was all weak before Mr. Murphy, now in numbers, we’re stronger than we could have ever wished!”

I guess he had a point, I mean at least they weren’t as bad as most raiders. I guess we could let this one sl- *SNAP* Ooor not. I guess he didn’t really need his neck anyway. It barely took Strike even the slightest of a flex to force his hooves and snap the neck of the marauder, leaving his bone exposed through the gooey flesh that was now dripping with red liquid.

I didn’t encourage the killing of (mostly) innocents, but he was dead so what was I going to do? Use magic to bring him back to life? Not this unicorn, thanks. I didn't even have some sort of painkiller spell, my leg was starting to hurt again from the exertion and I needed to rest, but not before having Strike talk to the kid.

This was a strange encounter. Here in a tiny one pony camp, was one cage with one pony in it. A tent sat not far, with a spit roast in front of it with some cooked animal left on it. So why was this guy here, but the original owner wasn’t? Why was this kid here was a better question.

I moved silently toward the now open cage and got a good look at the pony in the cage. Fucking animals! The kid couldn’t have been older than a year, it was still a foal and here it was. Sitting in it’s own feces and blood, crying into it’s stained and beaten coat. They would have been pretty cute if they weren’t in such a poor position.

A greenish turquoise coat was soaked in nearly every bodily fluid one could produce, and their mane was a light blue, almost the color of the sky. They were curled into a ball so tightly that I couldn’t tell much other than that of their main colors. I felt so bad for the kid, they must have been here most of their life, seeing as how young they were they probably didn’t even know their parents.

The rags covering them shifted slightly and I inched closer. Strike was behind me, looking just as somber at the sorry sight of the poor kid. Sure the wasteland was shit, everypony knows that, but why does it have to torment the young? They have done nothing other than be forced to exist and the wasteland just decides, ‘Hey they look like fun, let’s ruin their life’.

“Hey, kid? You’re alright, we’re the good guys,” Strike spoke in a tone that just didn’t fit him right. It sounded… respectful.

The child in the cage gave one last sniffle before turning around with an energy I didn’t imagine being possible. Seeing the face, I could tell it was a girl and she looked… happy?

“Well hiya! The name’s Florentine, y’know like the cookie, but that’s too many syllables. Call me Tiny! So you’re the goodies huh? Here to save the day and rescue me from the horrors of the wasteland? Yeah that’s what the last ones said too, said they would protect me. And lookie here! Locked in a cage and beaten crispy. Well it was nice making your acquaintance but I really must go, I gotta keep runnin’ or they’ll catch me. They already took the other kid that was here, so I doubt they're far."

I just sat, dumbfounded. Staring into her deep blue eyes and waiting for her to start acting sad. But she just stood there, returning the glance and smiling wildly. She was just locked in a cage and curled up, but now she was standing tall (nearly as tall as me, even at such a young age) and sporting a huge smile that was nearly creepy. She was legitimately happy. Even her high pitched screech that would put a bird to shame sounded honestly joyful.

“Uh-huh Florentine huh? Well, we’re looking for my pal’s girlfriend, you seen her? Tallish mare, dark purple coat, you would think it black if you weren’t up close, light green mane? I doubt she would be out here, but it’s worth a shot.”

“Hmmm. No sir, sorry haven’t seen anyone like that around, not that I get a very good view through bars. Maybe I could tag along and help you find her? I’m smarter than I look!” She finished loudly, nearly forcing the phrase into our ears, making absolutely sure we understood.

“I-I don’t know… I already lost one person, I don’t know if it’s all that good of an idea with Fortune all beat up. I’m sorry kid, but I think you should just go on your own. It’s probably better that way.”

Something clicked in my head and I tapped Strike’s shoulder. When he turned to look at me I tried with all of my ability to give him a look that said ‘let’s take her along’. I was not going to let a kid die if I had the ability to help them again. I could give her the opportunity of (relative) safety.

“Wait wait wait. You said Fortune? Like, Miss Fortune, the awesome bandit slaying, protector? I didn’t think she existed, I thought it was just another child’s tale to keep me believing there was some pony who actually cared about others,” She paused for a minute and pursed her lips in thought before finally turning back with an even bigger smile. “Well then, I guess it’s settled. You’re not going to let me go on my own, that would be dangerous. Right?”

I nodded and her hair sort of sprung up and she hopped over towards me, literally hopped. She went from sniffling in a cage to hopping with a smile in two minutes. Then, she hugged me. At first I was freaked out. A pony hugging me is so out of the park that I never expect it, and when it happened I tensed up and pushed her away. She seemed to understand and sort of left it at that, but now I had even more fluids on my clothes.

“Well, where to huh? Like probably a hospital right, we need to fix you up and that’s that. No buts. Kay? Kay. It’s settled, to the hospital! Wait, do you guys have any idea where a hospital would be? Because I’m fresh out of ideas. Oooh, I could tell a story? Would that help? Eh, I’m going to do it anyway. So--”

“Do you have to talk so much, kid? I don’t want to hear your story right now, tell it later,” He drawled like a pony who has been defeated, not even raising his voice.

“Well Duh! Fortune doesn’t talk much, so I have to make up for two ponies, therefore I have to talk as much as I usually do and talk for Fortune. Oh should I do a voice for her? What would that even sound like?”

Where in Luna’s name did she come to the assumption of having to talk for me? She sure asks a lot of questions, maybe that’s why she’s so smart…

“We had the whole argument about her voice, but she sort of just brushed it off. We conflicted over if it would be high pitched or fairly normal. Gee wouldn’t it be funny to see her running after you squeaking? She so small it would be like a mouse trying to kill you.”

“I don’t think that’s very nice… I mean, she doesn’t talk for a reason and if you’re making fun of her for it wouldn’t that make her feel bad? And that’s like… totally uncool,” Her voice dropped an octave as she went over how I would have hurt feelings about being made fun of, weirdo.

“Okay captain buzzkill, it was just a joke and Fortune doesn’t seem to care-” I didn’t “- if I’d have know you were gonna whine about it I wouldn't have done it.”

I noticed something peculiar right around then. We were just walking and talking like usual, but something was wrong. I couldn’t quite place it but something felt… off. The building surrounding us looked down at us like the kings of the city, watching us slowly walk by.

“Hey, Fortune, what’re you doing? Is something wrong? Oooh, do you want to talk about it! I could be your therapist and you could lay on that couch there and we could talk about you and your feelings!”

Couch? There was no… huh. Just moments ago I was looking around for something and not once did I notice the enormous beige couch sitting not far away on the crumbling gravel that was once a road. It just sat there like it was there forever, but it couldn’t have been because it looked brand new and clean. How did I miss that? The city was not my favorite place to be, especially since things like this happened.

As I looked intently at the suspicious couch, I saw a glimpse of movement. Somewhere in the ruins of the buildings we walked through was a small change in the shadows. I knew something was up, there was no chance that big of a shift was just a rodent,and so I moved to inspect it. I threw on my mask with magic and could catch the motion of Strike moving his into position.

“Hey, why don’t I get a mask? I want to look cool too! I guess I’ve only been a part of your little outfit for a little bit, but I should get a mask too!”

“Shut up and let Fortune focus.”

I stood in the ruins, looking, and listening, for any change at all. After about a minute, a rock clattered from somewhere and a figure started moving hastily in the direction of “away”. They ran and turned a corner and I heard the clatter of a door slamming against the frame, well it wasn’t a slam but it seemed like it if they were trying to evade us.

I slowly limped my way to the corner, still listening intently for a direction. The gravel was grinding and making a substantial amount of noise, that would make it easy to detect them if they made their way out. Shambling apart walls were slowly breaking from being shifted even slightly for the first time in what had to have been decades. Everything about the building seemed fragile in the way it looked. Everything was crumbling and shifting uneasily, should a stone building sway that much?

I pushed through the chipped wood door and it creaked with age and rust at the hinges. The wood resonated a thud as I put my hoof to it and pushed it lightly. The building smelled dead, not like dead ponies, but like it was lonely and abandoned. Left without love and set to crumble without being cared for.

Was I feeling sorry for a building? Goddesses I need rest.

Florentine made a ton of noise as she followed us into whatever type of building this was. I contemplated forcing her to wait outside, but that could lead to bad routes. No, it was safer to have her with me than to leave her alone, or at least that’s what I’d like to think. Every step was a crash and every motion a whoosh, she was going to need a lot of work. It was funny, she sort of reminded me of the way mom was. Always making as much noise with the simplest of task.

Shit, now I’m sad…

I refocused on making my way into the building and finding the stalker. They couldn’t hide forever, I was friends with the shadows and they had a way of helping me out in return. It was strange, but in the dark I always felt like I was more perceptive and everything was just a little clearer.

The building was fairly simple, overturned tables and chairs were everywhere, sprawled out like a tornado came in and got trapped for a year. Carpet lay rotting on the floor, the strings clearly frayed and dying. The room was small and it was obvious no one was in this jumble of disaster. One thing that helped was the settled dust, or rather the unsettled dust.

This building was abandoned so long, a centimeter high layer of dust coated everything, everything except where our little friend had been. Dust in broad lines separated the floor, some of it still falling in clumps. What little light that shone through the boarded windows caused long beams of dust to be clearly highlighted as it all fell to rest on the floor again. The path wasn’t perfectly straight however.

The pony had been running and shambling, so the lines were really wide and hard to follow in a perfect line. So much was dragged in as they bolted to wherever, that some of it caused false lines that lead in an incorrect direction. After following what I hoped was the right line (it was the longest so it made sense) we were lead to a window, and that’s where it ended. FUCKING PEGASI!

What a waste of time…

“Well that was fun and all, but I think we should be going now,” Real helpful Florentine, real helpful.

“Oh! Can I tell my story now?”

Both me and Strike let out a groan, but his masked mine and I went unheard. Florentine looked at us and frowned.

“Alright kid, you got one story then, if you fail to entertain me, that’s it. Got it?”

“Yes sir! And please, don’t call me kid… I’m a functioning member of the team! Ready?”

“Look, I’m gonna call you kid whether you like it or not. You’re a kid so you get called kid. That’s that, end of story.”

“Fiine. So---”

~***~***~***~

There once was a valiant soldier who looked death in the eye and stood his ground even in a hurricane. Any who opposed him would be stricken to the depths of hell by his mighty hammer of justice. The hammer was said to have been given to him by a mighty power from beyond our world. All who came unto his path would bow for either having had saved them or because he would soon. He was an unstoppable being that couldn’t be called anything crude.

So, they called him… Fluffy.

Now don’t go and take this like it’s funny. Those of the time feared even mentioning his name, in caution of him coming within earshot and getting mauled to dust by the mighty hammer, known as Hrondir.

The mighty warrior was facing a dragon to protect a small village, this was no challenge and the dragon was quickly defeated with ease. The body lay upon the ground, like a trophy for him to claim. After each enemy he felled, he took something from them to remember their life, for he was not a menace and he cared for those who he killed. From the dragon, a tooth, the largest and sharpest was removed from his jaw and placed among the 20 or so others upon his neck.

After the mighty defeat of the dragon, he was to return to the town and accept the grace of those he protected. He never anticipated a reward, for it was in his mind that the gods had given him the power in hopes he would protect those who needed protection. And he did, very well.

He had it in his mind that the gods were those of war and striking down opposition, and the goddesses were of peace and harmony. The mighty warlords would smile benevolently at the crumble and fall of others while the tranquil goddesses would let them a hoof and give them a second chance to do better.

As he moved into the town the earth quaked beneath him. Each step with enough force to crack concrete pounding into the dirt. The brute would not care if he destroyed the earth beneath him, for it would only come back stronger, that was how defeat without death worked. And he would never get better, he was the best.

When he made it to the small area of land that could barely be called a convocation ground he stood, letting the wind carry his heavy mane and ponies look upon him with glory. He stood with absolute valor, but he would never have expected the one thing that could defeat him to appear.

His mother stood in front him, staring into his eyes with disappointment. He couldn’t but quake under her gaze, she was everything to him and she was upset with him, but he couldn’t say why.

“Oh child, why must you choose the life of harm? Why follow the lead of the gods rather the goddesses? I have taught you better than to use power and force opposed to the calm resolution of peace.”

Here he was, a demigod being scolded by his mother in front of an entire town. How certainly embarrassing! He could not waver, for he thought he was doing the right thing with his power, if he did not fight the beasts they would destroy the towns and harm the residents.

“But what of the harmed, and the destroyed? I like to believe that violence should not be the answer, but sometimes it must be.”

“Oh but that is where you are wrong! You see, there is always a way around something. Even if some lives must be lost, be the better and stop them from being on your conscious.”

“I see mother, how about a wager? I will stop with violence for a year, if things stay relevantly calm I will never lay another to rest. But if things become unsettled, then I will strike down the evil of this world. Does that sound like a fair trade to you?”

“I suppose it does, then let it start!”

And the town celebrated for nearly a whole day, over the safety of the town and the death of the mighty dragon. Everyone was happy and everything was okay.

After a year had passed the world had stayed in relative calm, other than the occasion provocation and accidental death, everything was okay. Although within this time Fluffy’s mother had passed away, he was left crestfallen, the mighty warrior was weak only to his own mind. On the day of her passing monsters and ponies alike joined in mourning, on night of calm and understanding of the loss. Although on was missing from the group, and it was Fluffy.

He stood solemnly, looking into the empty eye sockets of the dragon he had slain a year ago. The corpse missing the majority of it’s flesh stared right back into the warrior's eyes and waited.

This dragon, the last being he would ever end, was sitting lifelessly and it made the warrior upset. It was then he understood why violence was net to be the answer, for the dragon lived once too. It was kind to others once, and it had friends and family, and he ripped it all away from him and so many others.

Since he couldn’t bring them back to life, he could only think of one thing within his ability. To return all of the objects he had taken from those he had slain. That would take a very long time since he had killed tens of thousands and had no idea where to find the bodies.

The warrior stood atop the hill and shed a silent tear, which is said to have put a hole so deep in the ground and filled it enough for it to become a lake. Upon returning the tooth to the dragon it swirled with elegant blue light enrapturing the from and drifting around the body before forming an image of the flesh adorned dragon.

“You are doing the right thing, please follow through with it all. I don’t blame you for my death, I brought it upon myself. Thank you, Fluffy.”

Then he was gone and the warrior stood alone again.

~***~***~***~

“It’s said that he still roams the wastes, giving back to those who died,” Florentine finished her story and smiled from her spot on Strike’s back down at me.

“Damn, that was… actually pretty good,” He smiled lightly and looked back at her on his back, she smiled back and they just sort of did that for a minute.

I realized for a moment that everything was quiet, and I was… happy. It was weird but this little girl managed to calm the apocalypse and bring a smile to my face. The only thing that would make this better would be if Vetta was here, but alas, she wasn’t and I was headed to get pulled apart and put together in a hospital.

Well, at least my joy trip lasted a short while…

____________________________________________________________________________
Footnote: Level up! (6)

Friend of the Dark: The Shadows are your friend! While in low light areas you gain +1 to perception and agility

Author's Note

It's alive! I don't think anyone really likes this story, that's why it was on break.