"You made a big mistake walking in here, colt."
Water droplets trickle down from the brim of your hat, trailing down the back of your coat. Outside this musty smoke filled dump that some might call a saloon the storm rages on outside. One dim half burned-out lamp hovers up above. Its light gives you just enough purchase to confirm these six mares before you as your targets. Their eyes seem sharp, hungry and dangerous.
But you can see through them, all the way down to their core. The way their chests fill only half-way, before letting out the air in their barrels and quickly going back for more. The way their legs are narrow right on the line of casting stance and running, but just a hair more towards the latter.
"Bounty doesn't say nothing about how we bring you in..." one of them growls, licking her lips.
You stand firm in the doorway. Behind you, the wind is whipping around so fiercely that you can feel the chill surround you.
"Better mares than you have tried…" you say.
In that moment their eyes look away from yours.
"And you're all about to join them..."
Six horns illuminate, all various different colors. Their heads begin to lower as their magic charges. But your head stands tall, your eyes remain sharp and focused, ears sharply tuned.
Oathkeeper comes free from its holster. You can hear the low hum of their spells reaching the casting limit. Leftmost: second from right: center: far back: far right: second from left. The cast order is set and you still have a few moments extra to take a breath.
You take aim as you pull the hammer back.
*CRACK*
**
The sign designating the path that leads up to Breakneck Peak whips against the mountain wall behind it. The wind changes direction and the sign begins to sway in the opposite direction. You squint as the dirt blows up near your face.
*CRACK*
It shifts again, you let out a sneeze and dab your nose with a hoofkerchief you had in your saddlebags.
"Hey look! It's the geezer's hand-butler!"
You turn around, a group of four mares are all smirking at you, you don't even need the wind to shift to know that they're completely cidered up.
"Gonna go break rocks up there with him?" one of them asks.
"Shut up!" you say.
They all break out into laughter.
"Aww c'mon, don't get so upset. Listen, why do you keep wasting your time up there with him? You could be doing much better things..."
A growl rumbles in your throat.
"Yeah, like us!" another in the group says causing them all to laugh again.
The mare at the head slaps a hoof into the mare that made the joke's chest hard enough to make her double over in pain. The alpha glares at her herd before turning back around to you with an overly sweet fake smile.
"Sorry about her, she just gets overexcited easy... isn't that right?" she growls to the mare that is just now getting.
"Y-yeah, sorry." she mutters back.
"See, she's sorry! Listen, spending time out there is just going to make you look as haggard as the old guy that lives there. We can take good care of you here, we don't even care that you dropped out of school-"
Your anger consumes you for just a brief moment, but it was enough. A rock whips up from the ground and cuts the mare in front of the herd across the cheek. Her face becomes sour, the group behind her seems unsure of what to do now. The alpha's eyes look into yours with a menacing glare. You return with a firm look of your own.
She breaks contact first and walks off towards town.
"Psh, whatever... Waste your time breaking rocks or whatever it is you do up there with old guy" she spits out.
You look up the pathway to Breakneck Peak and let out a small sigh before beginning the ascent up. The walk is quiet and lonely. Your only company is the hot sun beaming down on your head with the occasional scorpion skittering past. That mare’s words still burn in your chest: Dropout.
You know you shouldn't let it get to you. Even if it's true, it wasn't because you couldn't cut it in regular old magic school. It's because you dreamed for more. You wanted to be the next Starswirl the Bearded, or Twilight Sparkle, or Starlight Glimmer. But when the time came for your assessment, Princess Celestia didn't seem to find your gift much of one worth giving. And the badlands aren't much of a place where friendships develop, not when life requires a more cutthroat approach than the inner lands of Equestria.
So you had to accept that you would never become the next anypony. Until you settled back into your hometown to take up a barbutler position and learned of a stranger having moved in during your absence, one who collects every bit of metal and flashpowder that they could get, takes trips out to Gryphonia and Bovinia often. You thought perhaps they were an alchemist, but it was very clear upon first meeting him that he was no alchemist.
And even more importantly, that he was someone you could learn from.
But he wasn't willing to part with that knowledge so easily at the start.
**
"Please!" you begged, dropping your rump to the ground and clapping your hooves together in front of your face.
Anonymous blew air through his nose, "You want me to teach you?" he repeated your question back.
"Y-yes…" you mumbled, "Please Master Anonymous. I-I want to be able to do what you did, wh-when those changelings ambushed me."
He was like an overstuffed thundercloud, light and airy, fast and loud, powerful and dangerous. With just the smallest movements of his two hands, and the metal catalyst clenched firmly in them, he saved your life. And more than that, he'd given you a new purpose.
"Kid, what you're askin' me ain't no small thing."
"I-I know, but I promise I'll do everything you tell me."
He sighed, "See, already that's part of the problem kid. It ain't about you doin' what I tell you. Any idiot can do that, it's about listening. Understanding. Learning."
"I'll do that! All of those things. Please master Anonymous, teach me!"
His nostrils flared, the cold piercing look in his eyes bore into you unlike any you've ever seen before. A smirk spread across his face after what felt like an eternity of silence and judgement passed.
"First thing's first kid, DON'T call me master."
You swallowed down the nervousness that was building in your throat as he stared you down and nodded repeatedly.
**
"Hey kid" he greets you gruffly, which is warmly for him.
Took you a few years under him before you started to recognize the subtle difference, but a few more years down the line and you can clearly tell the difference now. He's unlike any teacher you've ever had before, blunt, impatient, direct, and very demanding.
"Good morning Anonymous."
He sits up from his hunched over spot at his workbench and looks over at you. Your ears flick and turn in his direction to hear him sniffing.
Uh oh.
"You been casting magic kid?"
Your body tenses up with unease.
"Y-yes. Just tossed a stone at some drunk mares who-"
He cuts you off with a gravely hum. Master Anonymous, as he will never be called out loud by you, tosses your belt at you. You catch it in your magic and quickly slip it around your waist. It hangs just a little loosely on you, and you feel a small sense of pride as you pull it just a bit tighter so it rests firmly on you. You've changed a lot over the years, and it's all thanks to Master Anonymous.
"Kid!" he growls, drawing you from your thoughts.
You whip around in place and face Master Anonymous.
"Quit that day dreaming! C'mon!" he barks.
You scurry over to catch up to him. The two of you travel out into the badlands proper using a path behind his house. His shoulder cloak whips with the stinging winds as he leads you. The sun shines brightly onto the gun on his hip, it reflects light right into your eye with every other step. You adjust your hat, tilting it lower to block the reflection. He comes to a stop just as you both reach an open clearing.
You walk up to stand next to him. The only sound between you both is faint whistle of the wind as it rips through these barren lands.
"Tell me something kid."
You look up at your master, his eyes remain locked to the landscape beyond.
"Yes Ma- uh, Anonymous?"
"Why'd you use your magic?"
You swallow down the nerves and let out a slow and steady breath to recenter yourself.
"I-I uh, I got taken by surprise."
"Physically?" he asks, seemingly with the same gruffness as before, but you hear the slightly quickened pace with his question.
His eyes glance down at you, looking you over briefly for any damage. You feel a small bit of relief in your heart knowing that he's concerned for you.
"No, Anonymous. Th-they poked at me, trying to get a rise."
"And you gave it to them?"
"Yes."
He sighs, "Kid, what did I tell you about-"
"I know!" you snap back, "Not to lean on my crutches. To stand on my two- four good legs. That a cool head and preparation are vital to surviving out here. To act with an almost certain prediction of what will come next. Not just react. Act. I know..."
Your breathing is heavy after having aired out your frustrations. Not at him, though they were barked at him, but at yourself. For cracking under just a bunch of drunk-
A firm hand rests on your shoulder. Looking over you find Anonymous is eye level with, down on one knee. You sniffle away some of the tears that were starting to build up and stand up tall. You remember him having to sit all the way down on his butt to be eye level with you. The thought brings you some small bit of joy before you have to hear him scold you.
But the scolding never comes. Instead, he leans over and reaches into the holster of his belt. He pulls out one of his revolvers and holds it out to you. Master Anonymous says that you'll get your own gun once you truly understand what it means to own one.
You take it in your magic.
The moment you do, just like you always have, you hear his words echo in your mind, "Heavy isn't it? For something so small. You remember this weight kid, down the line you'll get stronger, this'll be nothing for you, but you remember this weight."
You bob the single action in the air twice before holstering it in your belt. A sound rings out just above the wind. Your ears flick and swivel as you try to pinpoint what it is and where it's coming from. It rings out again, louder this time.
"Anonymous!" you whisper loudly.
He hums in response, unfazed by the sound. Though you know that's only because of his lack of hearing.
"Changelings! I can hear them coming this way."
A toothy grin spreads across his face, "Oh, good."
"Good? How is that good?!"
He slips the rifle off of his back and firmly takes it into his hands, "Because, I now know I didn't waste all that bait I set out here last night."
Your heart pounds in your chest.
"You did WHAT?!" you hiss.
He looks over at you, the calm confidence in his eyes puts you somewhat at ease, until he holds the rifle out for you to take that is.
"You think you know it all, right kid?"
"I-I don't-"
"No no... it's alright, great even, that you do. Because we're about to put that to the test. Take it." he commands.
You swallow, but the nerves hang in your throat. You lift the gun up in your magic and firmly hold it in place just in front of you. The clicking and buzzing gets even louder now. You think you can see them off in the distance. It's hazy with the sun bearing down on the rocky land, so you're not certain.
"Listen to me kid, you have no problem hitting targets. Still, moving, thrown, fast, slow, but here is where it really counts-"
Your hooves tremble, every couple of exhales come out a shudders.
"Here is where you get a completely different kind of target, for a different kind of lesson. This place is too far out for the Princess to oversee clearly, their rule means little here. Only one thing matters out here, power."
You can see the changelings for sure now. They're hovering several feet out in the distance. They're circling around whatever Master Anonymous must have set out as bait.
"Magic, its spells are just fancy lies. They give weak ponies a false sense of power. Charge up some fire, or explosions. Ice and lightning bolts, whatever you fancy, just cast it without a care in the world. Don't even have to aim properly, not for something you intend to kill with a beam or a bolt, in fact, you have to look away to do it, what with how the horn is placed on your heads."
The changelings seem to be losing interest in the bait.
"That don't apply to a gun, kid. With that thing in your grasp, that weight on your hip, you wield true power. You gotta look at what you intend to kill. There's no way 'round that. Further the target, harder you have to look. Closer the target, well, sounds easier but avoiding catchin' their eyes, just before you pull that trigger, that's where it's hard. There are no 'accidents' with a gun that come with half-hearted apologies, there is misuse, there are consequences, the bullet is the truth and you are its harbinger."
The changelings sniff at the air. You can hear their buzzing get more excited. Their bright green eyes turn towards where you and Master Anonymous are crouched. Seeing those six green orbs all focus on your makes your blood run cold. Each beam of Celestia's powerful sun feels like a dagger boring into your skin, piercing through to the cool blood beneath.
"Better make your choice soon kid, seems like they're onto us now. Far away or up close."
You hear them click repeatedly in communication to each other. You lift the rifle up, it trembles slightly as you have trouble focusing the magic properly. Through the sight you get a focused view on your three pursuers: the length of their fangs, the cracked, shiny look of their hard-shelled bodies.
"C'mon kid, you've lived out here in the outskirts most of your life. You have seen death, you knew some of the fallen. You want me to teach you everything I know? Doing this is critical, we will not go any further until you do this!" he says, enunciating each word with a gravely punch.
Every breath out is shuddered now. You can't hold the rifle steady anymore. The changelings are closing in, the sounds of their wings rings loudly in your ears. They ache from all the buzzing. You lift the rifle up again, line the sight up with the front one's chest. You're too unsteady to aim for the head right now.
He's right, you know he's right. You promised you'd do those three things, listen, understand, and learn. You heard the command. You understand his reasoning.
But...
"Kid..." he calls out, as the changelings close in on you both.
They're too close now. The rifle won't do while you're shaking like this. You set it down and quickly slip the single action out from the holster. The weight in your magical grip feels immense the moment it's free. The changelings surround you in a loose triangle formation.
"KID!" Master Anonymous barks, just before the changelings strike.
Your breathing slows. Everything slows. You watch two and hear the third. Front two hooves up. Back two up. Jaws extend, revealing fangs as big as your hoof. Bottom right went first, then the top one, behind you. Lastly bottom left. Deliberation is important, and under Master Anonymous, you've learned not just where to shoot, but when, how to make each bullet count. You could shoot in the reverse order and still drop the closest one before it even got half-way.
But...
Bottom right arcs past halfway. You blink.
*Crack* *Crack *Crack*
You can hear nothing outside of the ringing in your ears, but you feel them through your hooves. As their bodies land dead on the ground around you, a thin wisp of smoke trails out from the tip of Master Anonymous' gun. He holds it up to his lips and blows it out before they return to a firm line.
You made a mistake. You didn't do what he said... Your body trembles, vision becomes blurry. The tall blur of your master leans over. You can faintly hear the sound of his rifle rattle as it's lifted up from the ground beside you, over the ringing still going.
He sighs, "C'mon kid" he commands.
You hear him, and you try to obey, but your body refuses to move. Your hearing has recovered now. Over the faint whistle of the wind in the barren place, you can hear gentle plinks of dripping water. The fur on your cheeks is soaked through. Your knees beg to buckle, to drop you to the ground but you are able to summon enough strength at least to remain standing.
"I said come on, kid."
But it takes everything you have. Walking is completely out of the question now. Master Anonymous sighs again, you're not sure if you heard it clearly because it didn't sound annoyed or frustrated. It sounded... regretful?
His boots crunch the sand with each step as he approaches you. You can hear his changeling skin boots creak as he drops down to his knee. You can't look at him right now, you don't feel like you deserve to. His hand rests on your shoulder, not firmly like he would do to remind you that you're too tense while aiming. But gently, you can't quite tell the reason behind his touch. And he doesn't give you one, no commands, no scoldings, he remains silent while you blubber on.
When you finally work it all out of your system and the tears dry up you wipe your eyes with your arm. He's still beside you. His hand is still right on your shoulder. It takes you a moment to will up the courage to turn your head. When you do, you find yourself looking at his hat. You tilt your head down some.
Master Anonymous is looking out at the horizon again, sitting on his rear.
He felt you shift under his hand, and turns to look up at you, "Got it out of your system kid?"
You nod.
"Alright..." he responds softly.
Master Anonymous pushes down on your shoulder briefly as he rises and dusts himself off. He adjusts the strap of his rifle before walking back up the path to his home. You keep your head high and step even higher to avoid the changeling as you follow behind him.
The walk back is quiet, even the wind seems to have gone down with your mood. You both reach his home after a long walk. He holds out his hand. You know what he wants, but it almost scares you to do it, to give up the gun. Fear grips your heart, a fear that makes you think you may never hold another one again. He was clear back then: There is no moving forward now.
"Kid?" he asks, turned away from you.
You take in a deep breath and hold it in your chest. It gives you a false sense of courage as you take the gun from the holster and float it over to him. He hears your magic twinkle and takes the gun out of the air without looking. The rifle and his second revolver are locked away in his shed, along with most other things related to firearms.
"Kid-"
"D-don't." you whisper back.
His broad shoulders tense. You don't want to hear him say it, say the words you had somewhat always feared: "I won't teach you anymore."
"Don't what, kid?"
"Don't tell me you won't be my master anymore."
"Kid..."
The weight in his voice already confirms your worst fears. Tears burst forth from your eyes, they had been building up the entire walk back, and this was the crack they needed to break through. Your face becomes very hot. You can already feel the salty tears soaking into your coat.
You turn for the path back into town, to your bed, to the life a failure like you deserves. Before you realize it, you find yourself already on the path back down. It's Mas- Anonymous' call that makes you take note of this.
"KID!" he calls out to you, but your body is acting on its own now.
You sprint the entire path back into town. By the time you reach the sign pointing back the way you came, you have become a sweaty, snotty, teary mess. Eyes from the locals turn towards you. Each one is like a dagger to your heart. Your failure is now on full display to the entire town.
"Hey!" a voice calls to you from the crowd.
A mare trots up to you, she has a bandage on her cheek, "You look a right mess. Did that old geezer do something to ya?" she asks.
You just want to go home, to curl up in your bed and be forgotten. You try to step past her but she sidesteps back into your way.
She lays a hoof on your chest, "Hey, I'm serious! Did he do something?! I heard word from one of my girls out of town that he got wrapped up in some nasty business out on the outskirts of Appleoosa, years ago, went all hysterical and killed a sheriff. Now you tell me if-"
"Just leave me alone!" you screech, shoving her out of the way and running for the shelter that is your home.
Your legs give the moment you enter your room. Knees gave you just enough support to stumble onto your bed and bury your face into your pillow. You sob deeply, painfully, letting each tear soak into the soft down feathers beneath you. Your body feels completely drained after everything that's happened. At some point, you can't bear the burden of staying awake any longer and your eyes close permanently.
**
"Ah!"
The loud crack of thunder rouses you from your sleep. Outside a strong night storm rages. Your window rattles as the wind whips and thunder booms through the harsh terrain, making it harsher by the time it's over. Your head swims with memories and emotions from the day.
Sorrow wells up in your chest. His words echo through your mind, about the importance of power, the difference between fire power and firepower. The burden of responsibility on one, but not the other... What it means to kill with magic versus a bullet. Fear... and truth.
You recall something else, something about Mas- Anonymous... and Appleoosa. He went hysterical. In all the time you've known him hysterical is the last thing you would ever have applied to him. Everything swirls around in your head until a conclusion strikes you.
You squint from the flash of light outside, just as lightning struck the peak apparently. It must have hit pretty hard, you can still see light-
Your breath catches in your throat. That can't be...
You quickly slip on your hat and throw a cloak over your shoulder. Your belt rattles from the sudden motion; apparently you left Mas- Master Anonymous' so suddenly that you didn't think to give it back. The door to your house blows open as you bolt into the storm, towards the raging fire atop Breakneck Peak. You run faster than you ever have before.
The wind chills you to your bones and each drop of rain that strikes your coat stings like an icy dagger, but you don't slow down.
"Anonymous!" you shout, as you reach his home.
The fire has mostly burnt out now. The rain had soaked his home enough to halt the spread. The door to his home rattles against the frame as the wind slams it open and shut.
You rush over to the front door and rip it open. The inside is almost totally soaked through; everything is either damp or singed. Lightning flashes overhead, illuminating the dark room before you for just a few moments. You knew the floor was soaked, but the pale red color to the puddles tell you that it's not all rain.
Your heart sinks. Each breath becomes a struggle to let out. Nearby you hear the creak of a chair scraping against wood. You steady your breathing as you slowly make your way over to the chair. Each hoofstep becomes heavier than the last as you approach. You hear a faint groan. The depth of the voice, you know it all too well.
Hope begins to burn in your chest as you practically vault over the couch to get to the living room. But that hope sinks into a black pit in your heart when your eyes fall upon Master Anonymous' battered form.
He slowly raises his head, face stained crimson but thankfully mostly obscured by his hat.
"C-come back to finish the job y-you cowards..." he spits in your direction.
You can only look on in shock. Words refuse to escape your lips. You watch him shift, just slightly, with a flash of lightning you see him tuck a gun behind his back. It wasn't like any you had seen before. Silvery metal and a bone white ivory wood handle.
"Master..." you squeak out, more a fearful exhale than word, but he understood you regardless.
The firm line of his lips weaken, his bottom lip quivers slightly, "K-kid?" he whispers.
You immediately rush to his side and fall to your knees before him. His body goes limp, it leans back forward into the wooden beam that had fallen over his legs, pinning him there. You place a hoof to his face and he meets it with a weak hand.
"Master... wh-what happened?" you whimper.
He groans, coughs, and spits a dark fluid before he is able to answer you, "Cowards. Fear driven cowards happened. They got wind of my past, somehow, were convinced I hurt you..."
Your blood becomes ice in your veins.
"Master... I'm so sor-"
"Don't."
He takes in a wheezing breath, "Don't tell me you're sorry. You didn't do nothing wrong kid."
"B-but I- If I had just shot then-"
"Then what?" he growls, "You would've been set on the same damned path I cursed myself with!"
He gets into a brief coughing fit before continuing.
"You swore to do three things. What were they?"
"To l-listen."
He hums approvingly.
"T-to understand."
He hums much softer now. Your breath becomes as shuddered as his is ragged.
"To learn..." you finish, just barely a whisper.
"I told ya back then, any idiot could just do what I tell them. Because I'm the biggest idiot of them all..."
"Master-"
"I had a family once... There was a- a robbery while we were out shopping for foal's clothing. Didn't even know whether to buy blue or pink yet," he takes in a shuddered breath before continuing, "settled on yellow for the time being, nice soft yellow color."
Your face becomes wet, not just from the rain trickling in.
"Kicker is, wasn't the robber that did it. The sheriff was careless, thinking herself a powerful mare with her horn and her badge. Deputies held me back, ME."
His breath catches in his throat for a moment, "All I got was an apology, a sack of bits, and an offer to get a full refund on the clothes..."
He grips your hoof as firmly as he can, you can barely tell the difference from before.
"I understood then that things, at their core, hadn't changed from my world. I brought back what I had left behind when I first arrived here, and I carried it with me all this time. I tried forcing that darkness on you, under the guise of a lesson, but you taught me something instead. As you sobbed beside me, I learned that you... are the stronger one."
"N-no Anonymous I'm not, I-I-"
He makes a quiet shushing noise, "You are. You are, you are, you are." he repeats, getting quieter with each one.
Your body can't stop trembling, and not from the cold, you stopped feeling that long ago.
"Here-" he whispers, holding out the silvery weapon with a shaky hand, "take it. It's yours."
You lift it up in your magic. You bob it in the air twice, slowly, before bringing it closer to your face. Even under the dim light you can see just how handsome this revolver is.
"They caught me off guard, when they knocked at my door... I thought it was you, I wanted to give it to you, but you ran off before I got the chance. Didn't want to take the honor of its first shot from you... thought I could take 'em anyway but my pride is stronger and faster than my body nowadays."
He chuckles weakly at his joke. You make something of a quicker sob in place of a true laugh.
"Way back when, before coming here, I'd always had this idea... of watching my boy fire his own piece for the first. time..." his breathing is very slow now, wet too, "When I came here I tucked that idea away as just a fantasy, and when my kid was taken from me, before I'd even had the chance to meet them, I buried it..."
The gun in your magical grip reflects the flash from the bolt of lightning that streaked across the sky.
"But you... a wide eyed little colt all full of admiration and hope, you helped me dig that idea up, pulling more and more dirt as you grew bigger and stronger. You're not my kid..." he mumbles.
You nuzzle his cheek gently, stroking his hand with your hooves, anything to keep him from getting any colder.
"But if things had gone different that day... I'd have been the luckiest man alive to have a kid... even one percent as strong as you..."
"No... no no no Anonymous please..." you whimper.
He smiles with crimson teeth.
"Promise me... promise me you'll walk the stronger path... don't be taken like I was..."
You nod against his cheek.
"I love you k- Peace Maker."
You lean your head down, bury it into Anonymous' chest and sob. You cry harder than the storm raging on outside. And when you feel your eyes can produce no more tears, you rise, slowly and stand over Anonymous. In your firm grip you hold your weapon, the instrument of truth, piercing through the lies that strong ponies tell themselves when they're scared, when they feel like they've been slighted. Your blood boils in your veins. Your jaw aches from the tension you use to grit your teeth together. You take a breath and release that fire in your chest. This weapon that shines brightly even in the little light that filters in through the hole in the ceiling represents an oath.
One you intend to keep...
**
You take aim as you pull the hammer back.
*CRACK*
One bullet, one truth, goes straight up, taking out the sole light fixture in this musty old building. The sudden darkness startles these cowards before you. Their fear is on clear display now, six fancy little lies twinkle in front of you.
Your ears fold flat and you can feel the heat as five more slightly muffled bullets each crack the air just after you pull the hammer back. Five lights go dark as they are shown the truth, the sheer difference in the amount of power you wield over them.
The sixth light dims, uncertainty is beginning to course through this coward. She is beginning to realize the truth.
One bullet enters the chamber. The wheel spins, each rotation causes the fancy lie to dim more and more. It comes to a stop.
You remember Anonymous' words after performing a similar action.
"Do this long enough, kid, and you'll just know where the bullet is."
Your magic tightens around the trigger. It resists your pull, giving you the last opportunity to back down before having no choice but to accept the consequences.
*CRACK*
The light fades.
**
"I-I don't know what else I can say to you, stranger... th-the guards, they did not show when we were threatened, they were hesitant when we went to them..."
The dirty laborer wipes a tear from her eyes, "Without their horns, and their stolen riches returned, they have no more sway over this town... I-I can sleep without fear knowing my daughter and my husband will be safe through the night..."
You rest a gentle hoof on her shoulder.
"Think nothing of it-"
She brushes away your hoof, "Hold on a second, you're a stallion?!" she asks with bewilderment.
You tip your hat up.
"Yes?"
The laborer's face becomes flushed with color, "Oh Sweet Celestia, I'm so sorry for my outburst it's just that I thought..."
You chuckle. The look on their faces every time they hear you speak for the first time is always priceless.
"It's alright, I've heard it before."
The mare lowers her head before quickly lifting it up, "Th-then let me offer you some food! We don't have much, but for a stallion like yourself to have gone through so much for our town, it's the very least I could-"
You see two pairs of eyes peek out from behind the flustered mare. A small filly peeks out at you. Between her mother's legs you can see her body, a little thinner than it should be for a girl her age.
"It's quite alright, what I do is not for reward, but from an oath I have sworn to uphold."
The mare's eyes widen.
She lowers her head again, "Oh thank the sun and moon above that ponies like you exist!"
You wave goodbye to the laborer and her family as you walk towards the edge of town. A signpost stands next to the welcome sign you didn't notice the first time you passed through here. Various notices and requests are pinned to it, along with a couple of wanted posters.
Dead center, with the boldest text out of any of them is-
"Ooh! Haven't seen this one before,” you say. “Such a handsome drawing! Guess they're getting better at their descriptions."
You rip the poster off the board and roll it up. Your saddlebags pop open and you replace the poster with the last one you thought was best. It's a little torn in the middle, but that shouldn't matter too much.
The poster reads:
9,000 BIT REWARD
WANTED: ALIVE. For CRIMES of VIGILANTISM
Middle aged STALLION with a WHITE coat and SILVER mane and tail
Cutie mark: UNKNOWN
Name: UNKOWN
You always like reading the last part, came about as an accident too. Your coat got ripped up during an unexpected scuffle, your patchwork was good but it apparently left a pattern you didn't pick up on until you saw the name in your first Wanted poster.
The wind whips up as you turn to leave for the next town over. Your coat flaps and flutters in the wind, distorting the pattern on the back.
A smile spreads across your face as you think back to the last line in every one of your wanted posters.
Known Aliases: Colt 45
