Charred wood is all that remains of the many fires that had sprung up in the lower city, put out by the guards as they lay siege to their own capital. It seems that, when the insect invaders gained control of the palace, they had defended against reinforcements. Ponies had already started clearing away rubble here, but the street pavements still remain cracked and covered with small shards of debris.

But through the scars made on these many marble and brick buildings, their luxurious and prestigious souls still burn. Sure, the cracks and the dents have changed them, but you can still envision how they were. The roofs of watch towers golden and reflecting the sun in shimmers.

Such sights may have encapsulated my wonder, but I am in no mood for such. The weight of my bloodied axe is tiring my arm, but I barely consider it. It is the weight of my heart which tires my soul.

Why did it have to be like this? Looking on as the ponies rush past, guards carrying foals on their backs to their families, dishevelled but crying with relief. The laughing and the joking. The beautiful (if not damaged) city and the pleasant weather. It could have been a dream to be here. But I've known long enough that things like this are not for me.

Especially not after what I did.

Sighing, I turn away from the pleasantries and slouch back against an alley wall. Too many times today, have I hidden in these damp and dirt-ridden places. Like a coward. It's like I never even left the darkness of my palace cell.

My stomach growls as hunger returns. The intensity of the fight I had not long ago coming back to me. And with it, the face of a horrified officer before my axe bit into her. I shake my head, but the thought doesn't leave me be. Burnt into my eyes and stirring my insides with guilt. Tears grace the edges of my eyes, but I dash them away with a violent swipe of my hand.

I have no right to feign despair for my own actions. I am given some solace in the idea that I had no choice. If barely.

My legs stand as I lose myself in my thoughts, replaying the same scene over and over. I sub-consciously start to look around, with my mind still stuck in that fiery scene.

With distant eyes and shaken legs, I don't see myself wandering the alleys. I don't see the guards beyond my vision, scurrying around frantically as they shout to each other. All I hear is muffled buzzing, like a hive of bees threatened by a bear. But even in such a thoughtless state, the hand griping the axe never relaxes. Stuck in a state of constant readiness, wanting the axe to continue in its blood-lust.

By the time I come out of my zombie-like trance, I scan my surroundings with confusion. What's going on? My eyes are assaulted by colour, as a crowd of ponies rave at someone on a podium. Squatting further in the alley to hide behind some waste bins, I watch as a fox stalks rabbits whilst they socialise.

A snobby-looking mare with a monocle calls out from the crowd: "What's the hold up?! Someponies want to get out of this ruin until its fixed!". I stifle a laugh at her stereotypical appearance, but keep my voice down.

She had a point, however. Why was such a crowd built up? You'd think they would let their citizens flee the flames and rubble to somewhere else. A likely explanation would be that they don't want me slipping onto a train and stowing away. Hmmm...

That gives me an idea!

Besides a couple winged ponies (are they called pegasus?) hovering in the air, the majority of the guards are focused on keeping the pony horde from swarming the train. Loose security. This will make my plan easier.

Keeping to the semi-circle of houses built facing the train station, the crowd having their back to it, I use the alleyways between the buildings to skirt along the right side of the semi-circle. Once at the very end, I carefully yet shakily walk in a squat behind crates and barrels until I am behind the train itself. With the train station's only building forming a barrier from the ponies viewing me, I easily approach the train itself.

Now to board this line of iron boxes. I hear the flapping of wings, and know I cannot run for the front carriage before a winged pony spots me. Do they have a better name? I can't seem to remember if they do.

Grabbing a handle on the side of a carriage, I thank whatever deity is keeping me safe when the door pulls open. Jumping inside, I give thanks to the invaders. By the looks of it, the ponies had left this door unlocked as they ran from them. Them being caught in the middle of preparing things for storage makes sense given the crates.

In any case, I shut the steel door as quietly as possible to prevent detection. With my heart pounding in my chest, I don't hear anyone coming to investigate the door. Seeing an iron bar-lock on this side of the door, I clench my teeth and squint a little as I nervously and slowly pull the bar to lock the door in place.

Backing up, I look around and see that the glass windows will give me away immediately. So I duck, relaxing slightly once I realise the station itself will block the view into the windows. But I need to move.

My legs burn as I walk in a squat once more, shuffling awkwardly down the carriage's aisle of seats with my axe ready for surprise guards. What if they kept the ponies off the train because this was a trap, and they didn't want their snobbish royalty seeing me being skewered? My sweat graces my brow as the fist holding my axe clenches harder.

After minutes of painstakingly slow progress with my body shaking in anticipation of an attack, dashing swiftly in-between the connections of the carriages, I finally reach the first carriage.

The one that powers the train itself on coal and fire.

I take some time to scan my surroundings. Unlike the other carriages, that had insides decorated and painted to give a delightful appearance, this one was pure practicality. No paint here, just bare metal. The floor is ridged for extra grip to hooves, but works just as well with my boots. A pile of coal sits in the corner, with a lot of empty space around it covered in coal dust. Looks like storage wasn't the only thing that didn't get filled in time.

At least the amount looks serviceable. Guess trying to keep this sneaky will take too long. So instead of trying to hide and take a long time, I'll do the opposite.

Loud and fast!

Grabbing a short shovel, more of a long handled spade, I start scooping up and shoving the coal into the furnace. The sound isn't as loud as I first figured it'd be, but that won't be the case for long. I keep looking up with a sweated brow and out the windows of the driving section, watching for aerial attacks.

With barely any coal left, mostly because the pile itself was so small and the furnace being somewhat spacious, I throw the spade to the ground with a loud "clang!" as I swipe my axe back into my hand.

In a state of panic, I scan around and spot the tinder. Then a pack of matches, which seems out of place given the technology (or lack thereof) so far. Not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth, I swipe the matches and immediately strike the head against the side of the box, lighting a small flame in the engine room.

With no time to spare, I throw the tinder into the furnace with the coal before dropping the match onto the tinder. In a few moments, the furnace roars to life and I slam the metal door before the flames explode out at me too violently. With the engine turning and groaning, I can almost hear the startled gasps of the crowd. I try not to hear the guards shouting orders.

"Turn it off! Nopony's allowed to get on!" Shouts a distant guard, and my frown wets a little more as sweat collects.

I frantically scan my eyes over the controls of the train. But just like trying to decipher the controls of an alien ship, I have no clue which lever does what. With no prior knowledge on the complicated workings of such a mechanical marvel, I go for the age-old method of making stuff work.

Pull the biggest lever.

Yanking the polished wood handle of the metal rod, I drag it heavily towards my chest as the great steel wheels churn to life, the train slowly moving on the track. Yelling in triumph, I keep bringing the lever back until the resistance of the track to the wheels gives, the train pushing smoothly onward.

Suddenly, my shambling around in the engine room is spotted by a winged pony peeking through the windows. Alerted by my presence, he turns to the guards at the crowd and signals to them.

"The prisoner is in the engine carriage!" He yells out, the guards in the crowd immediately showing the same concerned expression as the winged pony that called to them.

"Open fire!" Yells a gruff voice from the crowd, another officer in the same get-up as the one I had finished off in the burning courtyard not too long ago.

Immediately, I throw myself to the ridged metal floor as the glass on the left side of the cart explodes in shards. Holding my hands on the back of my head to shield myself from the shrapnel, the flashes of multiple colours showing their magic was being used as missiles against the train. Rolling across the ground, I feel some comfort in the train's vibration as it continues to move forwards. Hopefully, I will soon be out of range of the magic users and their deadly bolts of colour.

I hear the stomping and slamming as ponies board the train, the heavy clanking telling me that they aren't the jaded nobles that had formed the horde at the train station.

They were wearing armour.

Knowing I'm about to get ganged up on, I would rather the train not get stopped before escaping this damned city. Looking to the brake lever thoughtfully, I grab the handle with an emotionless expression and keep pushing it down. The resistance had passed already when the brake was released, but now the lever creaks painfully. Sitting on top of the controls after finding a flat top to the metal slope of buttons and levers, I push both of my soles down on the lever until it finally screeches.

With a resounding clang, the lever snaps in two. You can feel the lack of resistance as the train barrels seemingly faster down the track, rocketing through the city and causing alarm as more guards see the runaway vehicle bypassing their checkpoints. I hear the guards that had boarded stumble from the shaking train, and my mind goes back to them.

Axe in hand, I exit the engine room and move into the storage carriage behind it. Here I find some seats and a table, but some food is packaged in the corner. Seems like a cart for the train operators/staff. To be safe, I go to the doors on both the left and right sides and close their bolt-locks from within. At least no one will get the jump on me from this cart.

Breathing heavily, I head to the next cart and close the door behind me. As I turn back, I yelp and duck. A blue magic bolt sings in the air before a mighty "clash" explodes from behind me as the wooden door shatters from the strike. Looking up, I see a pack of four guards. Their unicorn captain stands at the the front, lifting his head and its smoking horn. The three regular ponies lift their spears at me, golden armour glinting in the dim light pouring through the glass windows of the carriage.

Heart racing but remaining thoughtful, I tip over a pile of crates against the wall and they create a temporary shield from the unicorn's bolts. But I hear the wood creaking and burning as he angrily shoots in my general direction. With a barrier there, I jump through the gaping hole that once contained this carriage's door and onto the storage carriage I'd left.

Keeping my feet firmly on the edge of the storage cart, I grab at the arm-thick iron rod that fits through the two iron connectors that hold these two carts together. I grunt as I pull it upwards with all my might, progress being slow. I heave, and the bolt sticks out more as it rattles loudly.

The crate barricade is slammed through by the enraged unicorn captain. I look up at the engraved gold plates that separate the captain's and a rookie's armour. Fancy, but not as fancy as officer gear. Seeing those bloodshot eyes and singed horn from exhaustive use of magic missiles, my muscles tense and yank the bolt free from the connectors.

The carriage's immediately begin to drift apart, the storage carriage I was hugging the door of putting distance between the next in line. The captain yells in alarm before jumping across the space between the carriages. He grabs tightly to the metal connector on my side, back legs kicking and trying to find a surface to hold on to.

I stand, looking up from the captain at the retreating carriage left idly on the track. The guards under the now disgraced-looking captain shout for him and make him turn to look at them wearily. They frantically point in his direction, making the captain's eyes widen and snap around to look up at me.

I smirk darkly down at him, his eyes locking onto how bloody my axe was. In the mere seconds he had to look at me entering the carriage he made an ambush in, he didn't get as close of a look. The danger dawns on him, his face contorting in horror. Like a deer seeing a tiger exploding out of a bush to crush its neck in powerful jaws.

I lift my leg up, his eyes looking between the boot's heavy leather sole and my face as it turns from a scowl to a look of righteous fury. These ponies kept standing over me for a month, and its time for some karma.

With a roar, I stomp down the boot onto a hoof that had latched onto the connector. The captain yowls in pain as his hoof lets go, his other foreleg straining with muscles flexed under the exertion. I give another heavy stomp, putting as much of my body weight down on the one leg as it collides with the top of his forelimb. He gives a muffled scream as he scrunches his face in pain, trying to keep a hold on the iron with his pained hoof.

He looks up at me, tears at the edges of his eyes as he scowls in anger. But I take sick enjoyment in the pain dealt to this creature, knowing he would be doing worse to me. He probably would have use the axe I have in hand.

But wanting to get this over and done with, I brace my back against the train's wall and lift my leg into the air for a final time. But the sole does not rest in the air over the captain, but goes behind me slightly. His expression goes to panic as he realises what is coming.

"This is your stop!" I yell out with manic glee.

As soon as the words leave my throat, the tip of my boot propels forwards and straight into the captain's unarmoured snout. A satisfying crack rings out as his snout's bone breaks under the force, sending him screaming in pain as he releases the train from his grip. I watch him painfully bounce around on the track as he's left behind, watching him try to stand as more guards arrive to help him.

Satisfied, and too out of reach for the guards to throw anything but menacing looks as they tend to the injured captain, I slam shut the carriage's door and kneel on the ground. I sigh happily, some of my inner tension loosening from getting my anger out on one of them.

They likely won't be able to send a train after this one, what with the extra carriage's of the one I commandeered blocking the rails I've taken. And from the lack of car I saw on the way down the city, they probably haven't invented anything faster than a train. So at least I can relax along the way.

Going back into the engine room, I look over the mess left by the windows being pummelled by magic projectiles. Opening a door on the side of the engine carriage, I casually brush the side of my boot across the ground to push the shards towards the open door. After a few minutes of slow progress, the last of the broken glass is kicked out of the engine, leaving a shard-less but still dirtied floor.

The train moves to the side as the rail turns a corner, letting me look out of the broken window and at the rapidly disappearing city.

Here, I can see the city in all its splendour. The golden towers glinting in the sunlight as the sun itself sits above the mountains the city hangs to. The white marble walls are much better looking from afar, away from the rubble-strewn streets and raging fires that I had to see up close.

"How could somewhere so beautiful cause me so much emotional baggage?" I say to no one, the train's deep rumbling being the only response I'm given.

Looking away from the mountainside city, I look back at the door to the only other carriage being carried down the rails. Remembering the contains that had been left inside, I wonder if a map of the track would be there. I'd like to know where I've set off to.

Author's Note

I'm sorry this took longer than usual to write, I've got some work I've had to do as well.

Hope this met your expectations and thanks for reading!