Chapter Two: Stranger in Green

3/14/2058

South Palomino Desert…

9:32am…

Morning in Faith is rather quiet, the sun rises over the hills and brightens up the town, the locusts start to chirp away as the air turns from cool, to warm, and the towering desert rocks in the distance turn back to their proud red color. Of course mornings are almost just like the evening's here, silent yet tense. The only reason the morning is different from the rest of the day is because the guard does roll call. They come to each home and record who’s inside in a small book that they carry with them, then they check the book with the towns log. If everything checks out okay, the guard goes about their day, patrolling the streets of Faith.

But if somepony turns up missing, an investigation is lead by the guards second in command with help from The Elders. The Elders supply a tracker, a detective of some sort that’s used in aiding their search for the missing pony. I’m not sure how they work or even if they work at all, but the only thing I know for sure is that an Elder Tracker is known to be very persistent. These cases can go on for a while, the pony in question is branded a renegade, and their home is cut off from the general population and is put under 24/7 watch. But it’s not just their home, the whole town is put on watch, no pony may leave or enter. But, it’s not like there's anything outside faith to go to, the only thing that anypony can go to is the scrap yard, which in reality is just an old storage building that was here before Faith was. Some say Faith was built off of it, and I think their right.

I had left the hut a few minutes ago after the guard came around. I was going to the Scrap Field to see if I could find something useful inside. Father told me to stay away from the field when I was much younger, he said it was dangerous. ‘Their are lots of heavy things being suspended in air by stacks of scrap, I don’t want you to get hurt, I’m not sure I could live with you getting crushed by a heavy girder or something, understand?’ That’s what he told me. But I was older now and I was very capable of taking care of myself. My mother however, shared the same view, I assured her that I was perfectly fine and would be extra safe, but even then, I sometimes have to sneak out of the house in order to visit the yard.

To get to the scrap yard from Faith you have to pass the Elders Church. The church was a tall and proud building. It was a long structure with big long windows that went up and down the left and right wall, while at the front above the entrance a single circular window was built. Everyday they’d hold a ceremony for about an hour. I can hear them right now as I get close. But it wasn’t a “them,” it was a “him,” the High Elder. I pass by the front door of the church, today it was open for some reason. I briefly look in, and I can see him on the stand at the far end of the building behind a podium. Light streams in from the windows and brightens the whole room. A few ponies sit at the benches all staring at the High Elder.

“He comes to us not when we want him to, but when we need him to,” He spoke loudly and strongly. For some reason instead of walking past like I always do, I stopped for a moment. I walked from the street to the doorway and leaned inwards. A little listen wouldn’t hurt, would it?

“For he is the Divine Protector, he watches us with hopeful eyes, he waits for his time to raise his hoofs and safe us from our lives. He moves across this land with his disciples, rescuing those who have fallen from his light and smiting those who work with the Yellow Claws, the ones that destroyed your land, and my land,” He spoke in elegant ways, mimicking the Codex. I watched how the ponies looked at him, unblinking and frozen, as other held their head low, not in disappointment, but in prayer. The Elder lowered his head to the podium as few book pages began to flip in front of him.

“He may even be protecting us right now without our knowledge, for it is said in the Codex, ‘He will bring his hoof down in blinding fury upon those he sees unfit, his green eyes the last thing they witness in this life,’ He said raising a single hoof to the sky, “Our lord hear our thanks,” He spoke.

Suddenly the other ponies began to murmur in unison. At that point I turned away and left the threshold. I continued on with my walk to the scrapyard. Usually there were more ponies then what I saw today, I guess ponies faith in the Church was fading.

Ahead I could see it, a single building with a faded red roof and tan body, made out of stone and steel. Around it were large piles of brown rusted metal and trash. One pony could only imagine how all that rubble got their. But I really didn’t care, to me it was just a Scrapyard. Most of it was relatively untouched, even if most of the ponies from around town used it from time to time to get things they needed. The rest of the way to the Storage building was short, yet the desert made it feel much longer than it should've, with the heat and gusts of wind.

But soon I was digging through the piles of rusted and forgotten scraps of metal and wood. Though their was plenty to go around, most of this, well, junk was just that, junk. Every bit of trash I turned over or pulled out wouldn’t do me any good. It wasn't the piles fault though, the town has pretty much cleaned the bottom half of the piles of anything useful. The stuff that hadn't been touched was at the top of the pile. So, I’d would have to climb for it. Getting a good hoofing in the side of the small mountain of trash I started to climb. I slowly ascended the pile, carefully placing each hoof in the strongest places I could find as I went up. But soon, the top of the pile was insight, much to my relief. I wasn't really to thrilled to be climbing this thing, but their were undiscovered riches to be had, and I was going to get them before anypony else.

I reached the top and immediately began to search around for things I could use. A glint from something in a box caught my eye as I rummaged around. I moved over to the box in question and began to uncover the object of my interest. Lone and behold the glint came from the glass of a pair of binoculars, broken yet still usable. It was black, and slightly bent in several areas, but after testing it to see if I could see a pony walking down the center street, I ruled that this thing was still useable. Instead of putting it in my saddlebag, I roped it around my neck, and let it hang down onto my chest. I continued to search the pile for a while, and after finding little I could actually take, I sat down on an old safe and looked out towards the red rock mountains off in the distance in front of me. I watched as sand blew across the lifeless desert, just like waves in an ocean, the sand went on and on. It was endless.

“Is there even anything out there?” I asked myself. It looked as if Faith was the only thing for miles. I could still remember the stories of Old Equestria, the lives of ponies that had lived before me nearly 40 years ago. Maybe if I was born just a few years earlier I could have seen it all, the lights of Manehatten, and the bustling streets of Canterlot Proper. The railroad that stretched from one side of the land to the next. Ponyville and the Protectors of Friendship.

All of it sounded like a delusional dream to anypony who hadn’t heard the same stories that my Dad told Mom and me. It was a shame.

“Maybe one day i’ll leave here, WITH Mom and go see the world, that would be grand!” I said to myself again. I stood up from the safe and was about to begin my journey back down the hill when something else caught my eye. It wasn’t coming from the pile, it was coming from the desert, a fair distance out no less. I tried to focus on it alone, but couldn’t, so I lifted the optics to my eyes again to see if that would help. Needless to say it did. With a little adjusting, I was able to see it just fine. And what was, “it” to begin with? At first I couldn’t understand, but as I continued to stare at it the more I believed. It was a pony.

But not just any pony, it walked alone, leaving a faint trail of hoof prints in the sand as the wind blew them away. His fur was grey, and around his neck and snout was a tan scarf that fluttered slightly in the breeze. He wore what looked like some kind of iron frame saddle that covered the top half of his body, and at the bottom was a long triangular black box thats tip pointed forward. On top of this, “rig” was a light green bag that seemed full of something, it had multiple pockets and straps. Underneath this framework of iron was what looked like a vest sporting a pattern which could only be described, as a woodland pattern. Underneath all this equipment he wore clothing, actually clothing not just rags made out of trash. The clothing he sported shared the same design of the vest shirt and pants both. His hoofs were covered by what looked like small grey and green leather tubes.

He sported no tail, and his mane was hidden underneath what looked like a helmet. It wasn't like a royal guards helmet it was shorter and was, “camouflaged,” just like the rest of him, greenish. His eyes however were uncovered, that's how I saw his fur color, but his eyes were squinted nearly shut from the sand that was being pushed up around him because of the wind. Suddenly he stopped and lifted his right hoof up to the front of his helmet. His head turned right towards me as he pulled down a pair of thick goggles. The lenses on the goggles, were slightly green.

“Green,” I said out loud. Green, green eyes. His goggles were green, could this be what the Elders were talking about? But then, they were wrong, if this was a Protector he needs his disciples, and he walks alone. Is he wrong or is the Church wrong. I didn’t know I had no answers. As he lowered the goggles he continued to look over towards me, then he looked directly at me. I could feel his eyes staring at me, as if he was looking right through me.

“Holy Shit!” I dropped the binoculars and stumbled back. We made eye contact, and it wasn’t just a glance, he stared at me, he really saw me. I needed to get out of here before he came looking for me, or worse I needed to tell someone what I saw, but who would believe me? The Church, the Guard, my own Mother? I needed to go, and fast... But maybe just one more look wouldn’t kill me.

I hesitantly raised the looking glass to my eyes again, only to find out that the figure in the distance, was no longer there.