Author's Note

Chapter Eight Recap:
https://docs.google.com/document/d/16plAWlf3rLJLuHnkYNFPLwsXQyXjI_eqcBGm6m6foT0/edit?usp=sharing

Down in the Valley

The desert air stings as Twilight looks over its great, barren expanse. A single cloud creeps along in the distance, merciless in the wide space it keeps between Twilight and the horizon. There would be no shade today. Just as there hadn’t been the day before.

Princess Twilight’s eyes drift below the cloud, to the jagged rocks drawn in a distant haze, and to the dusty wastes under her hooves. Miles of dry, flat, and cracked earth lay out before her. She hazards a small glance over her shoulder, at the vehicle behind her—and the creature leaning against it. He faces away from her, with his arms crossed and his muzzle to the horizon.

She turns around again, and her gaze tightens on those distant rocks.

“I’m not going to shoot you if you attempt to run.” The diamond dog casually comments. “Though I wouldn’t recommend it. The desert isn’t kind to thirsty, wingless mares.”

Twilight’s ears remain perked as she listens to what the creature has to say, but she doesn’t turn around again. Instead, she reaches for the roll of toilet paper sitting on the ground next to her, clumsily unravelling a section with her forehooves. With her horn bound by a pair of hot pink straps, it would take her some time yet to get used to functioning without magic.

“What am I supposed to do with the paper?” She asks, finishing her wipe.

“Just leave it.” Cave responds.

Twilight develops a bit of a cross expression. “I’m not just going to leave trash out here…”

Cave scoffs. “It’s biodegradable Princess, I promise.”

“And I’m supposed to trust you?”

“The packaging’s in the car, I’m sure you’ve seen it.” Before he’s satisfied with his own explanation, another thought crosses Cave’s mind. “Besides, can’t you tell back there?”

An unamused frown rests along Twilight’s muzzle. Even so, she turns to scrape at the ground with one hoof, digging up just enough space to plant the used toilet paper in the dirt, and covering it with the loose top soil.

As Cave hears the hoofsteps of the mare approach the car once more, he turns around and nods at her. “You ready?”

Twilight approaches with the roll, acknowledging Cave with a tone as dry as the dirt beneath them. “I need to wash my hooves.” She says.

“We should really be conserving the clean water for emergencies. If this thing dies out here…” He pats the top of the vehicle. “...I probably won’t know how to fix it, and there’s no town for miles around.”

Remaining silent, Twilight’s annoyed expression only grows more severe.

Cave sighs as he leans in toward the car. “...Okay. Come here.” He says, opening the door so that he can reach into the back pile of supplies. Twilight watches closely as he does so, eyes narrowing after the creature’s rummaging reveals part of what appears to be a gas mask underneath the pile.

“Here,” He says, placing a metal pot down onto the ground and opening a large glass jug over it. He sparingly fills the pot, just so the water rises a couple of inches, then returns to the vehicle. As he comes back again, Twilight is standing over the pot and looking disparagingly at its meager contents. This doesn’t go unnoticed by Cave, who holds out a bar of soap for the mare and shakes his head with a bit of an annoyed grimace himself. “Just… make do.” He says.

Not long after their minor squabble, the two end up on the open road again. Cave keeps one paw on the steering wheel as the other scratches at the gray stubble around his chin. He allows two fingers to slide over the pink scars running down his face, confident now that he would never be whole again.

All the while, Twilight stares apathetically through the clear vinyl window on her side of the car, watching Equestria slowly pass by her. She sighs quietly as she shifts in her seat, reaching a hoof back to the binding around her wings.

“I’m sorry about all of the… safety measures.” Cave says, as if on cue. He looks specifically at the bonds on the young alicorn’s horn—pink faux leather straps, with little gold locks dangling from them. “Especially the…” Twilight looks back just in time to see Cave gesture to his forehead. “...you’d be surprised how hard it is to find something to bind unicorns with for… non fetish reasons…” The diamond dog says this with an odd little feature on his face that one might call a smile, if they’re being generous enough. Twilight simply turns back away.

Failing casual conversation, Cave allows his paw to fall helplessly back onto a long metal apparatus between their seats. “Look…” He begins, glancing at the pony leaning away from him. “I already told you, I have no interest in harming you, Princess. I just need to make sure—”

“Stop calling me that.” Twilight suddenly declares.

Cave trades a few quick glances between the violet mare and the desert out before him. “Okay… ‘Twilight’, then?”

There’s no response from the pony with her back turned.

“Okay, Twilight. All I meant to say is that you are the last hope for a decent, honest rule up at Canterlot; the last mare to still not be entirely corrupted by Celestia.” The passing desert is reflected in Twilight’s tired eyes as she hears the creature out. “Once I show you what I brought you out here for, then I promise: you’ll be free to go.”

A small coughing fit suddenly sends Cave’s fist up to his mouth, turning his head as he works through it. Having recovered shortly after, he finishes his sentiment. “After that… I can only hope that you’ll make the right choices.”

Twilight breaths in while her eyelids blink slowly, the alicorn content with simply staring out the window. “...For all our sakes.” Cave quietly adds from behind her.

* * *

Lyra keeps her hooves down on the closed book resting in her lap, as the patient next to her unfurls another gum wrapper. She pops the chewing gum in her mouth, then crumples and tosses the empty wrapper into a pile on her desk. Dr. Heartstrings can’t help but watch as she does, the unicorn’s brow lowered in disdain at the small distraction. Chewing the gum softly, Moon Dust ignores her temporary roommate’s scorn, and takes a short glance at the thick bandaging around her hoof. She only ever pauses her chewing to clutch a pencil in between her teeth, and hastily scribble some notes down on her pad.

Lyra suddenly turns to the pony on her other side, an orange earth pony waiting patiently in a stool. She speaks to Applejack in a dry tone. “Yes, she’s always like this.”

A.J.’s mane is frayed and dark bags rest under her eyes. She regards the mare closest to her first with a simple nod, then her tired eyes scan over slowly to Moon Dust. She watches as the bitter pegasus flaps through pages of her notes, and stress-chews her gum with growing ferocity.

Before another word is shared between the three of them, a familiar rainbow colored mane appears in the small window on the door. All eyes look up as the captain stomps into the room. The cyan pegasus takes one look at the room’s occupants, then locks onto the mare in the bed across from her. “What happened?” She says with a snarl.

Lyra almost immediately occupies herself by levitating a mirror in front of her face, and privately inspecting the bruises on her lip and around her eye. Moon Dust drops the notepad into her lap while her expression remains lifeless. “Ran into our friends, The Equestrians. Things went south.”

“Well did you learn anything?” Rainbow Dash inquires with a sharp tone, taking a step closer to the bed.

The pegasus on the receiving end doesn’t budge a muscle in her face nor her body. “They weren’t there for Princess Twilight.”

Dash’s slow walk forward continues. “And how do you know that? Did you get to one of them?”

“...They were a little too preoccupied with attempting to kill me for us to have a chat. They’re all dead.”

Applejack suddenly stirs from her seat on the back wall. “Dash, come on. Why do ya think I’m here?” She stands up straight on all four hooves. “I’ve already talked with her ‘bout this. Take it easy.” She pleads, as Lyra pulls the mirror a little closer to her muzzle.

Rainbow Dash spares a moment to stare daggers at her friend, then shoots them back at the pony of interest. “So you’re telling me you couldn’t pull out of your bloodlust for the two fucking minutes it would’ve taken you to shake those guys down for more info?”

Despite the metal hair stick in her mane being long gone, Moon Dust can’t help but flex her wing toward where it’s usually holstered. “The mere fact that you’ve come here tells me everything about how much you’ve uncovered concerning her disappearance...” She shoots an equally sharp glare at Dash, muscles finally tensing as the pegasus draws nearer. “...and from where I’m standing, it seems like Princess Twilight has a whole lot more to be disappointed in from the failings of her supposed ‘best friend’…”

Rainbow lunges forward just as an orange foreleg is thrown around her neck. She fights against her constraints as A.J. stands strong, pushing her weight into a battle her superior strength had already won. “That’s enough!” She huffs, holding out until Rainbow finally gives in, and pushes back away from Applejack. The farm pony’s disheveled blonde mane falls over her eyes in clumps, as she stares at the two on either side of her. “Now tell me how any of that is gonna save Twilight? Huh?”

Dash leans in closer to A.J., growling her accusation like a dog. “You’re siding with a psychopath…”

The venom in Rainbow’s eyes doesn’t dissuade Applejack, who responds with a firm and even tone. “I am siding—with reason.” She says.

Rainbow Dash’s mouth twitches, but she doesn’t respond. Instead, she lets an angry scoff do all the responding for her, before whipping her head and mane back around. She marches back through the door without another word, leaving it to swing open to the busy hall outside.

Applejack doesn’t do a thing to stop her from going. Once Rainbow is gone, she hangs her head and sighs, walking slowly up to the door. She pulls it closed with a hoof, and returns some privacy to the small room.

Lyra peaks around her mirror as A.J. heads back to her seat with a defeated expression. “I’m sorry, I should’ve left—”

“It’s alright.” Applejack quickly forgives. “From what I hear, you’n’ Twilight are pretty close.” She nods as she finally settles back into her stool. “You deserve to know everything.”

Dr. Heartstrings stares down at the rumpled sheets on the bed, then back to the face of the tired mare before her. She smiles without another word, a small token of thanks and understanding.

It’s shortly after that, that A.J. looks up to the other mare in the room. “Okay.” She starts, shaking her head gently. “So, forget about the restaurant. You didn’t find anything else at Twilight’s place?”

Moon Dust begins to angrily tear the wrapper off of a new stick of gum before responding. “It’s like I said:” She pauses very briefly, tossing the new gum in her mouth. “no blood, no sign of forced entry. Nothing. Nothing but some… dirt in the carpet.”

Applejack leans in with curiosity. “Dirt—like what, dirty hoofprints?” She asks. Moon Dust can’t help but titter, possibly marking the moment she had closest ever come to laughing.

“No.” She says plainly. “Like dirt.”

Another long sigh from A.J., who slowly leans back into her seat, and raises a forehoof to her temple. “...Alright.” She begins, with her eyes closed and her lips laid out flat with a frown. “Well listen, Pinkie Pie’s got a sister that has some kind’ve obsession with rocks… if there’s anything at all to know about your pile of dirt, she’s the pony to know it.”

“I never said ‘pile’—” Moon is quick to amend. “—but sure, if you wanna have a look at our dirt crumbs, I can have that arranged.” She responds without looking up from her notes.

There’s a final and short sigh from Applejack. “Great.” She says, hanging her head once more, and beginning to idly prod at the stitching on the stool beneath her. “I’ve been meanin’ to talk to Pinkie anyway, regarding a little family issue...”

Lyra finally jumps back into the conversation with eyes wide with concern—and likely a fair deal of curiosity. “Aw, I hope everything’s alright?”

The earth pony looks up just long enough to notice Lyra’s worry, then returns to her task of outlining the seat’s stitching with a forehoof. “Everything’s fine...” She says. Words that are not likely easy for the element of honesty to respond with.

* * *

Cave grunts as he lifts up one of the large glass jugs filled with a dark liquid, paw clutching a funnel close. He places the small end of the funnel into a hole nestled between the door and rear wheel, resting it there so that he can pour the liquid inside. As he begins to do so, the fluid sloshing around the car’s internal parts can be heard echoing up and out into the wind.

Cave glances over at the pony still inside. Like all she had yet done on this trip, her motionless body rests against the frame of the car as she silently watches the sky. Cave’s eyes linger over her a while longer.

“...What were you staring at, back in your bedroom?” He asks. “The green flame; what was that?”

The alicorn princess keeps her back turned, and her mouth shut.

Cave chuckles quietly to himself. “I get it. I imagine that’s a very personal story, and it doesn’t make much sense telling it to a total stranger.” The dark liquid begins to taper off, and Cave lowers the jug for a moment. “I can help that, you know. I can tell you anything you want to know about me, if you like?”

“I wouldn’t.” Twilight surprises herself with how quickly she fires back. Shortly after, she allows her head to fall into her forelegs, and a frustrated sigh to escape her lips. “I’m sorry—” She begins, turning her profile just far enough for Cave to see. “—and I don’t even know why I’m sorry, you’ve literally abducted me and dragged me out into the desert!” A hoof she had subconsciously thrown into the air during her explanation comes sailing back down to land on the interior furniture. “But I’m sorry anyway.”

Around the same time that Twilight concludes her confused apology, Cave is finishing his business with the vehicle. He seals the hole with a round cap, and begins patting his dirty paws together. “I imagine that’s your unconditional kindness. Probably have quite a bit of that owed to your friends in Ponyville, no?” He asks, as he tosses the funnel in the back.

“...I have a lot owed to my friends...” Twilight mumbles under her breath.

As he starts to collect the supplies he’d left out on the desert ground, Cave begins to have a particularly painful sounding coughing fit. After putting the empty jug back behind the front seats, he reaches out to brace himself against the body of the car, keeping his head aimed low as he works through it. Twilight looks back at him just in time to see him recover, and his anguished expression turn to one of peril.

“...Shit…” He murmurs, eyes fixated on the distant horizon. Twilight spins back around to investigate as Cave works double time to pack the car.

“What?” The princess asks, squinting at the dusty horizon. It doesn’t take long for her to find the source of concern—a covered wagon rides toward them, the pluming trail of dirt it leaves behind unmistakable.

Twilight breathes a shaky sigh of relief as Cave throws the last of the equipment in the back. “Hey…” She calls out weakly, forehoof lifting to the door handle. She struggles with it for a bit before popping the latch and pushing it open, eager to make herself seen. “HEY!” Cave’s head snaps to the side, and he lunges across the seats. “HEY, OVER HE—”

Dirty paws grab a hold of the young alicorn, so that their owner can yank her back into the vehicle. Her forehooves fly up to grapple with Cave’s arm, who keeps an unwavering grip of her. “Shhh—listen! Listen to me!” He hisses. “I told you that I wouldn’t hurt you, and that’s still true, but—” One of Twilight’s screams is muffled as he starts to wrap tape around her mouth. “—I will not hesitate to bury some Good Samaritans out here in the desert. Do you understand me?”

Twilight’s bleary wide eyes look up at her captor as her body shakes, and her protesting is reduced to a muffled whimpering. Cave finishes another round of tape, then tears off the excess and stares down with the cold-hearted look of a predator. “Keep your head down, don’t talk. No one needs to die.”

With his verdict delivered, Cave quickly shuffles back into the driver’s seat, and puts his paw on a key protruding out from behind the wheel. Twilight watches with panicked breaths as he turns the key and waits for the engine to engage. For a moment, it sounds like it’s trying—only to sputter out and go silent once more.

“Fucking thing—” Cave growls, pushing his hindpaws down onto two of the three pedals on the floor, and fidgeting with the long metal apparatus in between the seats. The covered wagon outside couldn’t be more than a hundred yards away, as he snaps the rod into a different position. Cave turns the key again, and faces the same frustrating result.

“Fuck!” He screams, gripping the wheel tight and looking out at their visitors. A stallion—earth pony by the looks of it—pulls the wagon to a stop not far from the car, a curious expression dressed on his face.

Cave stares down below the dusty window, to where Twilight still whimpers in fear. He acknowledges her with a subtle nod. “Remember what I said…”

Petrified, Twilight watches as Cave turns away calmly, and pulls the small silver gun out from under his seat. He holds it down low as he exits the vehicle, careful to keep his body turned to block the view of it.

The dark brown stallion pulling the wagon wipes his brow as he watches Cave maneuver around his car. “How ya doing there, friend?” He asks with a toothy smile. “Ya lost?”

Cave takes careful, measured steps forward. He looks around the scene before him, quickly gauging the distance between him and his car, and him and his new ‘guest’. “Uh—no, you uh… I don’t think you’d believe me if I told you what I’m doing out here.”

The stallion at the head of the wagon laughs a breathy laugh, like dust had filtered in and out his lungs his whole life. Going by his scraggly appearance, it probably had. “Try me, friend.”

Cave continues to scan the area around them, responding with eyes unable to settle. “Uh, well; long story short... I got into it with the missus again, thinking: ‘another night out on the couch, that won’t be so bad!’”

The older earth pony cackles once more, adjusting the brim of his straw hat. “Oooh, I think I know where this’n’s going...”

“Right,” Cave joins in with a small laugh of his own, careful not to gesture with the arm still down at his side. “well I guess she also figured out our couch isn’t too bad, because—boy she got creative this time.”

Listening intently, the stallion begins to unhinge the reins from his back strap. He comes in a little closer with a curious smirk on his muzzle, leading Cave to take a cautious step back. “Yeah s-she uh, gathered up all my college baseball trophies, and I quote: “buried them out there in some Celestia-forsaken stretch of that desert!’”

The two share a gleeful chortle with one another, Cave’s eyes shifting back to the empty window of the car for just a moment.

“Now, you’ve really gone and done it!” The stallion says playfully. He reaches up with a forehoof to adjust his hat from the back, then makes quite a loud and guttural sound clearing his throat. “Well, I’ll tell you what: I can help ya dig if you’ve gotta spot in mind?”

Cave strafes along the dirt as the pony moves a little close to the car. “Well, I appreciate that—but, you know, us diamond dogs are pretty good diggers!”

“What kind’ve carriage are you driving here?” The stallion asks, moving closer to the vehicle and forcing Cave to strafe further along to keep his back hidden.

“Stop!” Cave suddenly shouts. The pony does as he’s told, but stares back at Cave with a growing look of suspicion. “Just—trust me, you don’t wanna be involved...” There’s a slight tremor in the paw that clutches the grip of the gun. Neither creature moves for a moment, as all the playfulness and niceties Cave had engaged in vanish instantly—and a cold-blooded stare and a lowered brow are all that replace them.

Neither one budges—but a third stirs in the covered wagon. She pulls the canopy back with a foreleg, and takes one glance at the scene before her eyes go wide with shock. “Celestia’s sake Copper, he’s got a gun!”

Now positioned between the two ponies, Cave’s head rockets back to the stallion, and his right arm finally raises. “Don’t move.” The silver barrel gleams out in the open sunlight, and the earth pony stallion gets a direct look down it.

“Take it easy…” The stallion says, hindleg lowering back into the dirt. His travelling partner in the wagon begins to cry out behind the two of them.

“He killed his wife, Copper! He killed her and now he’s out here burying the poor girl!”

The stallion leans his head around Cave to briefly converse with the other pony. “Butter Cream, I’m gonna need you to just hush up for a moment, alright?”

Cave finally begins to walk toward the earth pony. “Step away from the car.” He commands.

“Listen pal,” Copper says, taking a small step back. “Ah think we’ve had a little miscommunication, here...”

Cave waves the gun to the side, a glint of the barrel’s steel flashing in the earth pony’s eyes. “Step away from the car.” He repeats, teeth showing in his snarl.

“The—what now?” Copper glances over his shoulder at the Jeep in question, still backpedaling slowly.

“The CARRIAGE then!” Cave shouts. “STAY AWAY FROM THE FUCKING CARRIAGE!”

The earth pony’s journey backwards doesn’t stop, and in fact he finds himself standing almost close enough to touch the unfamiliar machine. A flash of violet through the window catches his eye, and he leans his head back far enough until he can see a most distressing scene: Twilight Sparkle, Princess of Friendship, bound and sobbing in the seat under the window.

Copper’s lips part slowly as the words fumble through. “...Just what the hell—”

His inquisition is suddenly cut short, as Cave lunges forward and pushes him against the frame of the vehicle. He puts the hot tip of the gun’s barrel against the back of his neck, and leans in close so that he can growl in the pony’s ear: “I warned you.”

Twilight’s eyes go wide as she sees Cave cock the hammer back, and the cylinder of the revolver rotate before her. Her muffled cries go unanswered from behind the tape, and she shakes her head desperately in some vain attempt to save him. But Cave had already made his decision.

The flash of an old metal spade suddenly whips across the back of Cave’s head. The impact hits with a resounding smack, and the creature topples over before even knowing what happened to him.

Copper looks at the diamond dog knocked out in the dirt, the gun laid out in front of his paw. Then in shock, he looks up at the mare standing where Cave once stood, Butter Cream—with the wooden handle of a spade in her maw.

“My goodness, Butter Cream... “ The stallion utters. “...Get the rope out the back!” He points a forehoof to the covered wagon, before stepping toward Cave’s unconscious body. The mare drops the spade out of her mouth, and hurries along with an energetic nod of approval.

The silver revolver slides along the dirty desert ground, after a good kick from Copper. He canters over to the car door next, and regards the alicorn inside with a respectful removal of his headwear. “Jus’ hang tight one second there, your highness! We’ll get ya out of this!”

* * *

Two pegasi stallions sit at a small table with one another, enjoying a cold drink while occasionally snacking on the carrots in between them. All around, other ponies gleefully share similarly relaxed snacks and discussion, as light floods in from the packed cobblestone streets outside.

“...All I’m saying is,” One of the stallions says, apparently already in the middle of something. “I’m a practical guy, right? Never in a million years would I have picked up and used one of these pillows, assuming I had even noticed the damn thing. But now all of the sudden, she’s gone, and the pillows have seemed to go with her.” The stallion takes a quick bite of a carrot before lightly prodding his hoof down on the table, making sure to maintain attention from his cohort. “That—I notice. You know? Every time I see the damn bed, I notice it.”

The pegasus on the opposite end of the table, sporting a light green coat and a violet mane, starts to chuckle to himself before responding. “...You know, I can come over and toss some throw pillows onto your bed, if you want.”

“No, I don’t even like them up there! They just waste space and I end up kicking them off anyway, that’s not the point!” He scoots his stool a little closer to the table as he gets more excited. “I’m just saying, she has like—some kind of system with it, and now that that system is broken, every time I look at the bed it looks ‘off’.” Even as he continues, the other stallion stops the cup he had nearly brought to his muzzle, and his cheerful expression gives way to one of disbelief. “I can’t not notice this every time I come home from work, and it’s—”

“Hey.” The green stallion interjects. “Hey, isn’t that our guy?”

The pegasus who had been telling the story pauses immediately, and follows his friend’s pointing hoof to the large window facing the street behind him. Past the crowds of formally dressed ponies going about their days, he finds an older red unicorn with a scraggly white beard, who stands alone at the front door of a house across the street. In an apparent discussion with somepony, the mare he’d been talking to eventually rushes out to greet him with a tear stricken hug.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me...” One of the stallions mutters under his breath. The green one who had first noticed the unicorn pushes his stool away from the table, and refers to his cohort while marching toward the door. “Let Captain Dash know!”

The eyes of the stallion still seated dart over to his partner making his way out into the street, then quickly return to stare in disbelief at the scene.

* * *

A trio of ponies watch quietly from behind the office glass. Beyond it, the red unicorn who’d been spotted in the street now finds himself in a lengthy discussion with an officer at the front desk—occasionally with the unicorn’s wife as well, who grows more distressed by the minute.

“Well, Captain.” One of the mares behind the glass finally says. “Not how you imagined you’d be capturing the leader of The Equestrians, is it?”

Rainbow Dash shakes her head. She responds to the somewhat rhetorical question without peeling her narrowed eyes away. “So Aegis just fucks off to the North Pole for however many months, and now he thinks he can just come back and play dumb? After everything his little cult’s done?”

The officer at the front desk is joined by another, who places a hoof on Aegis's shoulder and points him toward the back. He follows all instructions, and goes through the process with surprising calmness and professionalism.

“He says he was camping at Smokey Mountains…”

“For eight months?” Dash nearly barks. The mare on her right simply shrugs.

“Apparently he’s got kind of a history with long camping trips. His wife showed us a photo album, he’s been to almost all the parks—”

“It’s bullshit.” Rainbow Dash growls, disinterested in an explanation. “He knows being far away from Canterlot during the attacks works in his defense, that’s all there is to it.”

The green pegasus who’d brought Aegis in shifts his glance awkwardly between the ponies next to him, as Rainbow’s temper starts to reveal itself.

“Captain—” The mare on her right says. “—we don’t have anything on him...”

“And what happened at the museum, you think that was done without his lead? And the restaurant?” Dash fumes, as she watches Aegis finally walk out of sight with an officer. “For Celestia’s sake, the senator? You really believe this ‘helpless old stallion’ act?”

Not interested in furthering the argument, the mare standing next to Dash sighs and hangs her head. “...I’m not saying I believe him.” She murmurs. “I’m saying I’m not sure this is a fight we can win.”

Rainbow Dash scoffs, finally looking away from the glass in disgust. “That stallion is a murderer.” Her tail flicks as she begins to head slowly back to her office. She turns her profile to face back over her shoulder on her way out, delivering one final sentiment loudly enough for the rest of the crew to hear. “And he should be tried as one!”

* * *

As day fades to dusk, Princess Twilight and her newfound acquaintances find themselves sitting around the dinner table, white tablecloth laid out, and all manner of homemade foods on top. The dining room is a bit cramped, and its age is evidenced in the faded wallpaper and slight ticking noise coming from the fan above—but its occupants find comfort in it nonetheless. Notably so, if you’re the princess, who stretches her legs and wings after finally having the freedom to do so.

Butter Cream makes a quick trip to the kitchen to bring out a final piece of the ensemble: a ceramic dish with a steaming hot pie in it. She leans over the table with it dangling below her mouth, lowering her head slowly until the platform she carried it in on rests against the tabletop. She tosses the thin rope straps bound to the corners of the platform to the side, careful not to let them fling into the pie. All the while, Copper hums in anticipation from his spot at the head of the table. A wandering forehoof finds its way near the edge of the pie platter, before Butter Cream slaps it away.

“Quit it!” She bites. “Now I know you know it’s not ready to cut yet! Eat your dinner!”

Copper playfully recoils his hoof as if it was actually wounded. “Oh, Butter, I just don’t know why you have to tease us like that, is all.” He says, smirking mischievously at Twilight.

“This is all prepared from your garden, Mrs. Cream?” Twilight asks, head turning to look at the entrance to the greenhouse.

“That’s right!” She responds cheerfully. Standing behind him, she places a foreleg over Copper’s shoulder before continuing her story. “When I married ol’ Copper Mills here, and he had told me time and time again about how his great-grandpappy had stubbornly pitched his flag on this dusty old valley, I knew I’d never be convincing him to leave it...”

“You’d best believe that.” Copper interjects, before lifting a bowl of soup to his muzzle.

Butter Cream rolls her eyes and continues. “But I also knew that that didn’t need to be the end of it. Land’s a little rough out here, but if you’re good to it, it will reward you with a bounty most plentiful...” She punctuates her explanation with her free leg gesturing over the food laid out before the ponies. Bowls of hot tomato soup, grilled sandwiches with a white cheese and cut neatly into small squares—and of course, almost glistening under the light in the center of the table...

“And I ain’t never had any grievances with a garden that provides such sweet cherry pie!” Copper admits with a toothy smile. Butter Cream sighs as she lets her husband go, circling around the table to find her spot at it, right across from Twilight. She smiles sweetly at the young alicorn, adjusting the bowl before her while the fan tousles her curly white mane. It’s a while before Princess Twilight notices, but as she does she finds herself preoccupied by the sandwich she now chews, smiling sheepishly (and crookedly) in return.

“...I’m sorry, Princess Twilight. But we’re a ways out from the nearest train station.” The alicorn in question hurries to swallow her food, wanting to be able to respond in a respectful manner. “I think it’d be best if we wait ‘till morning.”

Having finally finished her bite, Twilight’s eyes dart around the table as her thoughts are next to be chewed. “...Well, I suppose if it’s too much trouble...”

“There’s a spare room upstairs, I can get you fresh sheets and towels,” Mrs. Cream is quick to assure Twilight. “you can have yourself a cool bath and a good night’s rest. After all you’ve been through—I imagine you’ve earned it.”

The sound of the old fan clicking softly can be heard as Twilight nods slowly. “That sounds nice. Thank you.”

The three ponies resume their dinner in a moment of silence. Twilight’s movements grow slow, and her chewing is reduced to absentminded nibbling as she stares down at the thick red soup. When her face rises up again, it’s no longer graced with a smile. “...What’s going to happen to him? ...To Cave?”

Butter Cream takes her time finishing her bite, glancing toward her husband, and then shrugging her shoulders. “...Well, what would you have done to him?”

Twilight’s eyes narrow in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“You’re one of the rulers of Equestria! It’s not unreasonable to think you’ll have some say in his punishment, is it?”

This notion gives pause to Twilight. “...I don’t know, I—” She says quietly. “—I haven’t thought of it that way...”

A lull once again ensues in the conversation, the princess hanging her head idly over her soup that grows colder by the minute. It was true—now that she’d been saved, Cave’s life was effectively in the young alicorn’s hooves. It’s a heavy sentiment that was now intruding on an otherwise unremarkable evening.

“Well, now that I’ve finished my sandwich...” Copper suddenly announces, pushing his chair back and reaching a hoof toward the pie. Mrs. Cream forces out an annoyed sigh, standing up from her spot at the table.

“Oh, just—hang on a minute!” She says, retreating to the kitchen for the proper utensils.

As she walks along the linoleum floor, the boards underneath creak noisily, and a cascade of dust falls loose in the basement below. It rains down to the floor slowly, dissipating before it can reach the cold stone. The tired eyes of a creature in a dark corner of the room watch it abstractedly, for he’s in no position to do much else.

Cave needlessly tests the strength of the rope bindings around his wrists. They keep him frozen to the metal pipe behind his back, as they had since he’d arrived. The flesh on his wrists is raw with a pink hue, and when he reaches up with his fingers intent on clawing through, he finds his grimy nails to be just out of reach of the flayed rope. A large riveted lip in the pipe means his wrists can only slide down so far, and he’s forced to stand there in the dark, alone and helpless.

At the opposite end of the room, Cave sees a well lit corner with a table saw and some plywood boards standing up against it, though with absolutely no way to reach it. Along the right wall, and a bit closer to the prisoner is a table with a box of tools resting on top. Even with a desperate kick, however, the box would remain out of Cave’s reach.

Cave exhales a large sigh of the musty basement air, dropping his head toward the ground and covering it in shadow.

* * *

The little bell atop the door at Sugarcube Corner rings as a new patron enters its bright interior, unnoticed by the mare working the counter. She smiles wider than most ponies would even know how to, mane bouncing about as she speedily wraps a customer’s order. Once the transaction is completed, the earth pony leans over the counter and tosses the newly wrapped package squarely on her customer’s back, a feat of surprising dexterity and worrying recklessness—or it would be anyway, were it any other mare.

Applejack nods to the customer who leaves the shop with her newly purchased cake, and approaches the counter next. Her friend recognizes A.J. immediately, and excitedly places both of her pink forehooves on the countertop to lean forward and greet her. “Hey! I loooove your new—bag of dirt!” She exclaims.

Applejack tosses the bag in question out of her mouth and onto the countertop, talking over the occasional sound of boxes being moved about in the back room. “Uh… yeah, I was hopin’ you could help me with that, Pinkie.” She shakes her head and corrects herself. “Or I guess, I was hopin’ your sister could help with it. Help identify it, I mean.”

Pinkie Pie chortles to herself as she inspects the small plastic bag. “Oh Applejack, I don’t need Maud’s help to tell you what that is.” She prods the bag with a hoof. “It’s—”

“—dirt,” A.J. says at the same time as her friend, obviously quite used to her antics. “I know, Pinkie.” Like an excited foal, Pinkie sways her hips and shakes her tail behind the counter, eager to listen. “I was hopin’ she could tell me what kind of dirt it is.”

At this, Pinkie Pie sweeps the bag off of the counter in an instant, tossing it into an empty glass jar on a shelf next to her. “I’ll make sure she has a looksies!” She chirps.

“Jus’ be careful with it, okay? It could be important.” Cautions Applejack. Pinkie Pie stops dead in her tracks, staring at the other mare with wide eyes and a small ‘o’ shape frozen on her lips.

“Oh, well, then we don’t wanna store it in THAT jar—” She says, spinning the lid off, and dumping the bag into a seemingly identical jar next to it. A.J. watches with tired eyes as she does so, shaking her head once again and smirking weakly.

“Well… thanks, Pinkie. I appreciate it.”

The comment elicits an even wider grin from Pinkie, who bounces back into her original position and eagerly awaits further conversation. “I’m just honored that you would come all this way to give me your special dirt!” She exclaims in her bright, cheerful voice.

Applejack tilts her head forward ever so slightly as she catches a peek of the stallion in the back, who shoulders a large crate onto a metal dolly. “...Actually Pinkie, I have another favor to ask...” Her lips squirm as the tongue behind them rolls around, Applejack unsure of how to phrase the question. She nods ever so slightly at the stallion in the back. “...How’s the setup with the new bakery comin’? Ya got that all in order?”

“Oh!” Pinkie beams. “Absotoot-ly! I even thought of a name! I’ll call it...” All of the playfulness in her expression suddenly flushes out, and a slowly waved forehoof creates a dramatic introduction. “...’Sugarcube Corner… 2’…”

A.J. scoffs as her friend’s familiarly wide smile returns. “Ya can’t just name a bakery the name of another bakery with a ‘2’ on the end...”

“Ooon the con-traryyyy!” Pinkie Pie sings. “The Cakes have absolute faith in me!”

Suddenly, the stallion in the back pauses his work to wipe his brow and chime in. “And a financial agreement with regards to franchising...” He says in a decidedly less musical tone of voice.

Pinkie Pie whips her head back to the earth pony at the counter. “...Aaaaand—that!”

Applejack smiles and shakes her head. “It’s nice to see ya again, Mr. Cake. Keepin’ outta trouble?”

“Depends on who’s asking!” He quips back. “It’s nice to see you too, Applejack.”

The two exchange friendly smiles and nods, before Pinkie Pie butts back into the conversation. “What favor did you wanna ask me?” She inquires.

A.J. hangs her head and glances down at the glass display box beneath them. She focuses her eyes on one of the cakes inside—white with pink and blue frosting, ‘Happy Birthday’ written in dramatic and swirling fashion—while her lungs fill with an exhausted sigh. “...It’s Applebloom. Ya think you can give her a job?” Pinkie Pie leans back on the counter and opens her mouth to respond, but not before Applejack can rush to give more of an explanation. “Celestia knows, she’s not one much for buckin’ apple trees anymore, but she’s good with a hammer and saw. Ya give her anything you’ve got at your new bakery, anything at all—” She makes sure to look straight ahead, eyes sharp with sincerity. “—and I would be sincerely grateful.”

Pinkie’s mouth hangs open, as her smile slowly creeps back around its edges. “...Well sure, Applejack. We could use the extra hooves!”

A grin of her own sneaks up on A.J., who stares back down at the cakes and exhales. She taps twice on the top of the glass, glancing back up at her friend and displaying her relief. “Thanks, Pinkie. I mean it.”

The pastel mare behind the counter simply smiles and shrugs. “What are friends for?”

* * *

Cave’s anguished eyes stare up at the table near him. On top is a sagging cardboard box, filled so that the diamond dog can see a plethora of handles and tools sticking out of it. A hammer, a wrench—needle nose pliers. The box itself is well out of reach, but the closest table leg is just within range of an extended kick.

The claws of Cave’s hindpaw scrape up against the leg, as he takes several swipes at it. Each bump rattles the contents splayed out on top, and as the kicks become harder—and louder—the box of tools finds itself closer to the edge. A particularly desperate kick knocks a pencil off of the table, as the corner of the box hangs over the ground.

Cave pauses his work. Hoofsteps can be heard from above, and a familiar showering of dirt rains down from the floorboards. They draw a path headed to the basement door.

Cave slams his paw into the table leg, dropping a couple of nails off the top, and forcing the box to lean further out. One final kick is enough to bring the entire thing tumbling down, just as a visitor comes cantering down the steps.

Copper Mills looks over the stairwell banister, and shakes his head at the sight before him. He releases a sigh that stumbles into a whistle, on account of the small gaps in his crooked teeth. As Copper approaches, Cave simply stares. The first thing the pony is sure to do is swipe all of the spilled tools on the dirty floor back, far enough to be out of Cave’s reach once more. “Is’poseI expected you to try…” He says, as he begins to repackage the tools. “...But I wouldn’t push your luck, if I were you. Our hosp’tality does have its limits.”

The prisoner doesn’t make a sound. Only stares onward, a shadowy scowl resting on his face.

Copper Mills takes the time to throw back a few tools, taking mental check of the total. “You know, in my pa’s time, you wouldn’ta been seen in Equestria unless you was behind bars.” In a small bout of anger, he tosses the hammer back into the box with enough force to rattle the rest of the tools. “Now you folk are livin’ out among us—and this is the thanks we get? Runnin’ off with our princesses, and threatenin’ ponies at gunpoint?”

Still no response for Cave, who remains motionless.

Copper sighs as he starts collecting the last of the nails with his muzzle. Once all of the contents had been returned to the box, he doesn’t bother returning it to the table, and instead kicks it far enough away that there’d be no hope of Cave reaching it again. He dusts himself off with a shaggy forehoof, and turns once again to confront the prisoner. “Act like it’s the old days again, and we’ll treat you like it’s the old days… Ya here?”

The pony knows well enough to not wait for a response, and starts heading for the stairs instead. Cave watches as he stomps up the old wooden steps, listening to the creaks and moans that many years of stomping will bring out in a flight of stairs. Watching the long shadow cascading down them slip away, and the door being pushed so that only a thin length of kitchen light is left to pool at the bottom of the stairwell.

Unblinking, Cave observes this with slatted, searching pupils in the dark, until there’s nothing left to watch, and they’re allowed to fall toward the floor. His dirty paw lifts up off of the ground, and turns just enough for the pad underneath to be inspected. The pad, the toes—and the nail still nestled between them.

Cave’s chest heaves as a mostly suppressed cough moves through him. After, he wastes no time trying to get the nail from his back paws into the ones bound to the pipe. It’s not long until he’s reminded of the problem with that. A thick metal lip in the pipe restrains his wrists from sliding too far down, and he’s not limber enough to simply pass the small piece of metal from foot to paw.

Frustrated, he looks around the dark room as a curse is whispered under his breath. This time, there would be absolutely no outside help.

An idea comes to mind. He tests his own strength with a tightened, reverse hug of the pole. He tests the space above his wrists—no lip in the pipe. Then, he raises his shoulders as he lifts his arms up, making sure to keep them tight so that they’re bound to the metal. This is followed by his hind legs doing something similar, wrapping tightly around the pipe, and lifting his body up off of the ground. He grimaces under the sudden load, moving all four of his legs in a slow, caterpillar-like motion to climb higher on the pipe.

Once his hind legs rub against the familiar metal lip, he holds in place and navigates the nail—still clutched in his toes—up toward it. A bead of sweat makes its way down from his forehead as he navigates the situation, exhausting all of his energy to make sure the nail is placed carefully. Once it’s on the lip, he suppresses another cough, and begins his steady descent back down.

A series of heavy breaths is released once Cave’s back on the cold stone, and his arms remain canted upward. With his heart rate steadying, he slowly slides them down the metal, cautious not to knock the nail back to the floor. He feels it out with the tip of his claws, resting there on the flat lip, then slowly rolls it between his fingers. With it held snugly between his thumb and index finger, he points the nail back, and starts slowly tearing the rope apart—fiber by fiber.

* * *

Twilight’s eyes open slowly. The walls in the old house were thin, and it wasn’t difficult for her to recognize another coughing fit coming from the basement. She groggily lifts her head up from the pillow, and reaches out to the bedside desk, where an alarm clock rests. A small luminescent spark around her horn provides the necessary light, and squinted eyes can inspect the small hands behind the glass.

The clock rattles as Twilight’s hoof slides off of the desk, and the alicorn rolls onto her back. Her eyes were wider now, motionless as they stare up at the faded ceiling plaster.

Unable to get back to sleep, Princess Twilight finds herself walking slowly around the dark halls of the house, the warm light of a candle leading her to the bathroom. She enters without hesitation, pushing past the cracked door, and then using her magic to only swing it back to that original position, never closing it completely.

Inside the room is quite cramped, a shallow closet and a tub on her left, the toilet and sink ahead of and to the right of her, respectively. The tired mare navigates to the sink basin, and turns the only handle. She hangs there motionlessly as the faucet sputters to life, and an inconsistent drip begins to leak out. After a moment of struggling, a stream of water follows.

Twilight gets what she came for, wetting her hooves, and splashing a small amount of water on her face. Next she returns her forehooves to the sink, but instead simply allows the soles of her hooves to fill up. As this happens, she can’t help but notice a voice coming from somewhere near her—quiet as it may be, and unintelligible over the running water. She quickly brings up the drink she had collected in her hooves, and sips it down before trying to locate the source of the voice. A simple step back from the sink, and she finds it.

The voices emanate from an air duct on the floor, the room next door likely connected to it. Twilight stops the water to help bring the conversation into focus.

“—told you to clean that damn mess up down there, didn’t I?” A female voice says, likely Butter Cream’s.

The voice of a stallion responds. “Well it’s taken care of now! And why aren’t we gettin’ the sheriff out here to take care of the whole matter anyway?”

“Do you even know how much Celestia is offering for her?” Twilight’s ears perk a little straighter as she realizes she’s become the topic of discussion. “Few days ago, it was 50,000 bits for information on her return—now it’s over 100,000!” She hisses at Copper. “We hang onto her for just one more week, and then bring her and her captor to the princess? Imagine the reward, then!”

Twilight’s eyes gradually sink lower as the conversation ensues. She turns to look at her placid expression in the mirror, marked with sagging eyes and a small frown.

“Just, cool your heels!” The voice in the air duct says. Having heard enough, Twilight leaves shortly after.

Cave’s eyes dart back up to the stairs as he hears them creak once more. Only this time, instead of one of the homeowners coming down them, it’s The Princess of Friendship. She pauses halfway down to stop and look at the diamond dog, standing alone in the dark of the basement. Still unsure of herself, but too tired to care, she breathes in sharply and finishes the descent.

There’s an object held in the alicorn’s levitation, a glass of water she sets down on a table before fiddling with a hanging lantern. Her magic brings it to life, and Cave’s dirty and scarred face is rendered in renewed detail. He leans crookedly against the pipe as Twilight drags a stool across the floor in front of him.

“Here,” She says softly, retrieving the glass of water and approaching Cave with it. At first he doesn’t move, save a slight shift in his head and eyes. But after a moment of the perspiring glass being suspended in front of him, and the stern but genuine look of the princess, he can’t help but lean in for a sip.

At the very first taste of water, Cave turns desperate, gulping it down greedily as Twilight’s magic tilts it further back for him. A bit of it spills out of his mouth and onto his chest fur, drawing the alicorn’s eyes there with it. She squints as a cautious step brings her in closer. “Is that… from the coughing?” She asks, narrowed eyes focused on a splotch of crimson in his fur.

Cave finishes another large gulp, finally pulling his muzzle away from the glass, and leaving a small stream of water to pour out over his chin. He glances down at the spot Twilight was talking about, then back to her, never saying anything to confirm her theory—nothing to deny it, either.

Twilight sighs, returning the nearly empty glass to the table with a clink. “I know you’re dangerous. But it doesn’t mean you need to be treated like this...” She muses, turning around and finding a seat on the stool. Once settled, the two can look directly at one another, Cave’s chest still heaving as he catches his breath, and the last of the drip falls to the dusty ground.

An odd feeling swells in Twilight’s chest. She rubs the back of her neck with a forehoof, while her mouth parts slowly. “...It was dragon flame—what you saw the night you captured me.” Cave swallows the last of the water that had quenched his parched throat, and his eyes watch the princess intently as she continues. “There was someone very close to me who had created it—someone who was taken from me—as revenge... By a mare who simply disagreed with my politics.” Twilight swallows the beginnings of a lump in her throat, hanging her head but keeping strong enough to maintain composure.

When she looks back up, she can’t help but ask. “...What are we doing out here, Cave?” Though already recovered from her story, there’s little energy in her voice. Like she had already anticipated disappointment. “Why did you drag me out into the desert?”

Cave takes a few more breaths of recovery before responding. “...I’m sorry.” He groans. “I can’t.”

The princess can’t help but scoff. “Here you are, chained to a pipe, and you’re still keeping me in the dark.” The shadows on one side of her face shift as she leans in closer. “Cave, it’s over. You have nothing over me anymore, and nothing left to lose. Why hold onto this?”

Cave makes an expression somewhere lost between a grimace of pain and a cocky smirk. “I told you… I have to show it to you...”

Frustrated, Twilight throws a hoof out in the air before her. “Well that’s clearly not happening anymore!” Surprised by her own voice, she rushes to seal her lips, and look around as if worried the room might have an uninvited listener. She sighs once again, and gains better control of her tone. “...Alright, well—considering the timing, and the car, I take it this may have something to do with the humans...”

“...A fair deduction…” Cave quips with a weak smile.

It was already obvious to Twilight that this wasn’t headed anywhere. Her dark bangs swing loosely as she shakes her head and leans back in her seat.

Even if Cave wasn’t going to tell her where they were headed, he did have more to say. “You were right, you know. About the humans.”

Twilight plays along. “How so?”

“About them being astronomically more accomplished than us.”

The princess rolls her eyes. “I never actually said they were more intelligent than us—”

“Oh, but you knew they were, didn’t you?” Cave interrupts. “You’d be a fool not to… Besides, I think we know each other well enough. We can be honest with each other.”

At this, a doubtful brow is raised over one of Twilight’s eyes. “Really?” She says. “You know all about me, huh?”

Cave groans as he straightens his hunched posture, allowing him to look more directly at the alicorn. “I know you haven’t bought into the shit Celestia’s selling—” He turns his head and scoffs near silently. “—pardon my language...” He scolds himself, an odd attempt at professionalism. He moves on before Twilight can say anything in between. “What Celestia has gotten all of these ponies to believe is that their time here on Earth was preordained… that the humans passing their torch and then disappearing was a religious event. But…” Again he grunts in pain as he stretches his bound limbs. “...you’re not so easily convinced, are you? Your unending search for answers got you close to the human’s research, just as sure as it brought you down those stairs.” He finishes, nodding at the old stairwell at the back of the room.

The flickering of the lantern can be heard as Twilight silently parses the information. Her eyes shift to the dirt beneath them, and then return to the scraggly figure before her. “...What do you think happened to them?”

“I don’t know…” He admits in a tired voice. “But I know it brought you to me.”

Dissatisfied, Twilight’s eyes narrow once more. “You breaking into my house brought you to me.” She retorts.

Cave simply shakes his head. “I was headed nowhere. Living off of thieving until I could drink myself to death—that would’ve been my story, before I heard about your vision.” Suspicion and doubt remain swirling behind Twilight’s eyes, but she continues to listen all the same. “...then I realised… I’m part of something.” His jaw hangs loose as he stares off into a dark corner of the room. “...’Everything happens for a reason’...”

Nothing else is said. Even after having the time to think about it, Twilight decides that perhaps that was for the best. She sighs once again and steps down from the stool. “I’m sorry, Cave.” He looks up at her with cloudy eyes that were still lost in visions of his own. “I wish I could’ve helped you.” She says. Then she collects the glass with her magic, and turns to leave.

The princess doesn’t make it up four stairs before Cave calls out to her. “Wait, Twilight—” The mare in question stops, and looks out past the banister at him. “That dragon friend of yours… you must’ve been close...” Thinking on how to phrase what he had to say next, he sniffs to fill the gap of silence. “...I still have connections. I promise you—you tell me who she is, and I can make sure she gets what she deserves.”

Twilight simply stands with one hoof up on the banister, her face giving no sense of a response. At least not until she surprises both of them with a quiet snicker. “You’re wrong.” She replies, before the smirk on her muzzle fades away. “We don’t know a single thing about one another.”

She lingers a short while on the steps, but now even Cave knew—their conversation was over. He watches with his mouth ever so slightly agape as her figure vanishes up into the kitchen, and all that’s left of her presence is the echoing creaks of the floor, and the disturbed vortex of dust left floating in the stairwell.

With his visitor gone, Cave is finally free to pull his wrists as hard apart as possible—and tear through what little bindings were left around them. He tosses the old nail onto the floor next to him, and begins rubbing at the tender skin.

He would surely be heading up those stairs in a moment, but he makes one final stop in the basement before that. Cave heads to the box of tools Copper had kicked out of his reach earlier, and slowly removes an old claw hammer with a vise-like grip.

* * *

The house is still. Every aching muscle in Cave’s body is careful not to cause too much of a stir, as the diamond dog leans his head into the kitchen. He creeps along the linoleum floor with the rhythmic ticking of a wall clock behind him, and his paws wrapped tight around the rusted hammer, as well as the lantern he’d brought up with him. There’s a small window over the kitchen sink that draws his eye, providing a portrait of the greenhouse beyond. And beyond that, a small glimpse of the covered wagon he’d been brought in from earlier.

He quickly passes through the garden and heads out the back, searching the carriage under lantern light. He makes quite a bit of noise during this time as well, considering the presence of the alicorn waiting in the kitchen door frame. As Cave retrieves the items he’d been searching for, and hastily returns to the greenhouse with a glass jug and horn bindings in tow, he’s slowed and eventually frozen in place by Twilight’s surprise presence. The two stare at one another from opposite sides of the garden, insects buzzing about between them.

Twilight goes first. “...How did you—” She begins to say, before Cave’s eyes go wide and he shouts from across the greenhouse.

“GET DOWN!” He shouts. Twilight turns her head in shock, before being shoved aside by the stallion behind her. Copper Mills, foreleg up and armed with a dusty looking crossbow, takes a shot at Cave. The bolt whizzes through the air and gets pinned in the wood siding for the garden next to him, causing the diamond dog to stumble. With his paws full, the glass jug he’d just brought in falls to the ground and smashes open, spilling a thick black liquid all over the place. The rest of the items fall behind another raised bed garden, and Cave scrambles across the floor after them. Copper watches as his legs and tail vanish from sight.

The earth pony mare still standing in the kitchen quickly rushes to her husband’s side. “Quick!” She says, holding out another bolt. Copper mumbles something unintelligible as he stomps his bow-mounted hoof onto the ground and glances out at the garden. Cave had indeed disappeared in the foliage, but interestingly, so had the princess. He looks back down at his weapon, and begins to pry back a metal lever with his spare hoof, which brings the string back toward the nut. With the string locked, he nods at the mare next to him, and allows her to place the bolt into position with her mouth.

Cave rests behind a garden bed in the back, not daring to raise his head above the frame. His ears remain perked as he listens to the distant mechanical clicks of the weapon, and he’s able to measure with careful precision just how long it takes to load. While listening to those noises, he lays on his stomach and crawls along the cobblestone floor, peaking around the garden corner slowly. The opposite wall was quite some distance away, but from his position Cave can just make out a few dark strands of Twilight’s tail.

Copper Mills slowly steps down from the kitchen doorway, and into the greenhouse. He hobbles along as his forehoof is kept raised, the tip of the bolt gleaming under the lights, and his head kept swiveling. Butter Cream trails slowly behind him, similarly scanning over the vibrant collection of flowers and ferns.

The two pause once Copper reaches the black slick on the ground, where he’d originally shot at Cave. He silently motions for his wife to stay back, then turns once more to face the junction between beds where Cave had last been seen. A fly crawling across his face goes ignored as Copper leans cautiously around the corner.

Instead of finding the prisoner, the stallion is met with the blur of a metal object flying his way, the lantern crashing near his hooves and driving him back with a shocking wave of heat. Copper backpedals and glances down as the pool of liquid goes up in flames, and immediately catches the corner of a raised bed. The fire dances and plumes in the reflection of his wide eyes, a distraction nearly great enough to pry them away from the diamond dog scuttling off to his right. Copper whips his head toward Cave just as Cave knocks a collection of rakes and shovels over to catch Twilight.They grapple with one another as the prisoner slaps one of the bindings on Twilight’s horn, and as Copper lifts up his hoof to take aim.

Just as the trigger is pulled, Copper’s leg is knocked off-center. The bolt flies up through the air to smack helplessly against the glass wall.

“Have you lost your senses?”Butter Cream barks. She gestures toward the other two who’d already ducked back beneath the gardens “Don’t shoot at the princess, shoot the filthy mutt that’s destroying my garden!”

Heat from the rising flames draws a few beads of sweat on Copper’s forehead, who puts his hoof back onto the ground to start spanning his bow. This time, he does so in panicked haste, the low roar of the fire distracting him just as much as the occasional tool or flower pot being knocked over at various points around the garden. The prisoner was somewhere out there, and he was drawing nearer.

Butter Cream yelps as she sees a gray blur rush toward her, ducking and falling back to allow a clear line-of-sight between Copper and Cave. The stallion brandishes his weapon, but even with the string locked back, the spare bolt Mrs. Cream had with her rolls helplessly along the floor, and Cave is given the first strike. And he does so with a relentless, powerful swing.

The flat end of the hammer crushes against Copper’s extended leg, causing a dull thud just before he can cry out in pain. Unyielding, Cave swings again at the retreating stallion, bruising his shoulder and knocking him to the floor. Driven by an animalistic fury, Cave is more than prepared for a third strike, but is interrupted by the sobbing mare who leaps onto his back, and bites into the back of his neck. His teeth clench over a painful shout, and he swings about wildly trying to shake his new attacker.

As Butter Cream and the prisoner grapple with one another, Copper Mills scampers along the ground toward the remaining bolt, toppling onto his side and desperately grabbing it with his teeth. He next rolls onto his back so that he can slide the bolt onto the tiller of the bow, fighting through the aching pain in his leg and shoulder.

“BUTTER—aughh— ” Copper looks up at the other two with a wide grimace on his muzzle. “STAY OUTTA THE WAY!”

Cave reaches up over his shoulder and latches onto the mare on his back’s mane, tearing pieces of hair from her head and a shriek from her lungs, as he swings her entire body over and in front of him. She lands head first on the cold stone beneath them, and her crying suddenly stops.

Copper’s eyes shoot wide open. “NOOOO!” He screams, as Twilight scampers around the corner.

“Cave, stop it!” The princess demands, witnessing the scene before her with tear-stricken eyes.

This goes ignored by Cave. Instead, he tosses Butter Cream aside as Copper fights to lift his shaking hoof up toward the prisoner, and starts to pull the long metal trigger. Before that happens, however, Cave is already pouncing. He lunges down onto Copper and easily shoves his wounded leg aside, holding it tight with one paw, and bringing the claw-side of his hammer down with the other. The metal prongs sink into the flesh just behind the elbow, resting there only long enough for Copper to howl out in another long string of cries. The howl grows shriller as Cave yanks the hammer down, creating the sickening noise of hide being sheared through.

Twilight leans along the garden beds as she hobbles in shock to where the fight continued. Her magic sparks and laps against the binding placed on her horn, as the blazing fire exposes the battle before her in a hellish, flickering light.

Cave swings the hammer back and a ribbon of blood sprays off of it behind him, the aged steel glistening under the tremendous, expanding flames. Muscles strained and stained with blood, he cries out as he twists with his whole body to bring down the final blow.

Or it likely would’ve been, had a sudden burst of magic not flung it from his paw. He turns around in time to watch the hammer fly across the room, and land helplessly somewhere back inside the deluge of flames. And there standing in front of them is Twilight—the magic resistant band on her horn still glowing from the force of energy that had just surged through it. “STOP! PLEASE!” She shouts over the raging inferno.

Cave stays frozen, his arm still half-cocked for a swing. He looks back at Twilight with shifting eyes and a wicked snarl… but as the seconds pass, both features begin to fade, and the heavy breathing in his chest steadies.

A hoof suddenly throws itself around Cave’s hind leg, as a barely-conscious Copper Mill drags himself up and takes aim. Without a moment’s hesitation, Cave reaches down and twists the stallion’s leg until it points up under his chin, and fires the last bolt up into his skull. The pony dies almost instantly.

Twilight’s knees fail her as she stares wide-eyed and slack-jawed at the scene.

“What did you do?” A mare’s voice calls out—but it isn’t Twilight’s. With a creek of blood painted from the top of her head to her chin, she crawls across the floor to reach her husband, and sob softly over his broken bones.

All the while, a firm paw grips behind Twilight’s neck, and she instantly starts thrashing. “NO!” She cries out, writhing and fighting to make another spark of magic. But Cave holds onto her like a farmer might a wild animal, and easily slips the second band onto her horn. “GET OFF OF ME!”

Cave yanks her to her hooves and starts pushing her toward the back door, only stopping when he faces the familiar sight of the crossbow aimed at him.

Butter Cream, eyes glossed over, blood and tears streaming down her face, shakily holds the weapon toward Cave. She absentmindedly pulls the trigger, with no results as the string is still loose, and the bow unloaded. Cave watches silently as the mare reaches for the lever atop the weapon, barely having the breath to pull it. It slips from her hoof before the string is even pulled halfway to the nut, and she pauses only long enough to whimper before reaching out and trying again.

Cave shoves Twilight to the side, navigating the two of them around the other ponies. “Come on…” He grumbles, ignoring Butter Cream as she tries in vain to follow him with the frame of her bow. Twilight twists herself around to watch over her shoulder as she’s ushered out into the night, to watch as the mare behind her drops her weapon to the ground, and plants her weeping eyes in her hooves. “We’re almost finished.” Cave growls without looking back. “I promise.”

Twilight’s protests float a great distance out over the empty desert, but not nearly as far as the raging of the flames behind her; or the pained howls of Butter Cream’s infinite sorrow. They echo into the night as she cradles Copper’s lifeless corpse, and as she does nothing to stop the swirling inferno around her.

The burning expanse claims everything in that glass box. Flame as bright as the sun, and rising smoke as black as obsidian. Even the tormented cries of a broken mare are eventually lost in its hellish crescendo.