Fallout Equestria: The Pact

She wasn't sure what it was that had drawn her here, or why she was walking down this path. She didn't particularly like the Everfree Forest: it was a wild, chaotic tangle of life that pressed in all around her, unhindered by pony intervention, wild and free.

It was funny. It wasn't that the forest's unnatural naturalness scared her, but rather that it felt too easy to be swallowed up in here. Like she could just vanish into these trees, and never come out.

But then again, she supposed she didn't really have to worry about that anymore, did she?

The unicorn continued silently along the small trail of order through the jumble of chaos, her prosthetic limbs whirring quietly as hard metal hooves strode across soft earthen face, half-hidden under the duster she wore. She stood out against the greens and dark colors of the forest with her chocolate-colored coat, her green eyes shifting apprehensively back and forth, her blonde mane tied back for today to keep it from falling in her eyes thanks to the heavy humidity.

She looked young, and she felt the same as she always had: just more tired. It was funny, how that sense of normalcy for her could feel like even more of a burden sometimes than the state of the world they were in. But out here, at least, she could pretend she was just like any other pony, when there were no ponies around to compare herself to.

She wasn't, after all. She was a Changeling, and more than that, a Changeling who had outlived almost all of her friends, if not all of Ponyville. That was something that hurt a little to think about: not just all the time that had passed, the friends who had come and gone, but the fact that... so much had changed. The world had changed.

It was a blessing, on one hoof. She had been able to watch Equestria start to come together again after the disaster, and she'd been able to be there, to help the ponies who hadn't been able to find a place in the Stable. She had been able to help with treating the sick and injured, protect Ponyville from bandits, and a thousand other little things. Until, of course, their numbers had dwindled from time and sickness, and now... there were fewer and fewer to protect.

But she'd also become more aware that history could be circular, and that the higher they rose as one, the harder the fall could be. She hated to think that sometime, in the far, far future, she might have to watch as what remained of Equestria crumbled from either war or social collapse...

And these days, that didn't feel like so far away, no matter how much they were working to recover from the ashes, no matter how many lives had been saved, there were always more lives that had been lost. And now? She was alone, with precious few others who could understand what it was like to be... immortal? Was she really immortal, in the literal sense? Ageless, unable to die from natural causes, or was she just blessed and cursed with a terribly long lifespan...

She didn't know. But then again, she had probably shaved quite a few years off her life, for better or worse. She had done a lot of trekking around this injured Equestria, and been in contact with a lot of different ponies, from ghouls to self-proclaimed saviors to everything in-between. All that journeying, all that wandering, all that... forgetting to take care of herself, she thought it was coming back on her these days. Like she had cut her own immortality down to who knew how many years, as the invisible killer of radiation sizzled his way into her body and refused to leave.

But what did that really matter? Well, she had served her purpose, hadn't she? She had united the ponies and the Changelings – or at least brought them together as much as she could, in her fumbling way – and now, well, she didn't really know what to do with herself. She had taken care of Octavia's legacy as best she could, and she sometimes did little diplomatic or scavenging missions here and there, but otherwise...

She wasn't a princess, or an officer, or any kind of real leader. She wasn't really an assassin, or a very good diplomat, either. At some point, she'd slipped away to live mostly in solitude, and the world had continued to go on without her, not caring that it was absent a Changeling with some prosthetic implants. She was timeless to Ponyville these days: a strange wanderer who came and went sometimes as she pleased, with all sorts of stories and whispers following her around, but at the same time, she was someone who had always been there, and who she imagined the few remaining residents of the village figured would continue to always be. Eternal.

But she had realized, during her last little outing to Ponyville, that she wasn't the only almost-mythological figure that visited the town. There was another eccentric mare who seemed as timeless and ageless as she was, who had vanished for some time, but a few yeas ago, had returned to haunt the village, to salvage what scrap she could from the abandoned homes.

And that was why she was out here right now, wandering through the Everfree Forest, in search of a zebra mare who was apparently the very same as she had been all those years ago when she had first arrived, even before the Changeling herself had come to Ponyville; perhaps before the Changelings had even assembled their Hive and begun operations in Equestria in earnest. A zebra mare who had supposedly died, but apparently had somehow survived the hells she had seen and looked no worse the wear for the plight of the rest of this sick world.

Who was still here, for whatever bizarre reason. Why would you stay in a place like this when you had a home country to return to? Whether or not the whole world had burned, well... wouldn't you rather die at home, than as a stranger in a strange land?

She had found this path and had been walking for some time now, and while the rest of the Everfree was wild and mutant, this well-trod path looked like it had been carved long ago by thousands of hoofsteps, and the forest had accepted this little bit of order as a natural part of itself.

She rose her head slightly as she finally saw something else in the distance that stood out amongst the irregular chaos of the Everfree. It looked like a cabin of some sort, with tribal masks and other exotic decorations across its face, and there was little doubt in the Changeling unicorn's mind that this had to be her destination.

She approached the structure, then halted and hesitated, shifting anxiously on the spot as she realized she didn't exactly have much of a reason to be out here. She hadn't interacted a whole lot with this particular mare in the past, and she only just now was realizing that maybe going up to someone and asking 'so hey I've seen you around now and then in the last century or so' might not be the smoothest way to start a conversation with someone.

“I hear you out there, Changeling mare.” came the zebra's voice from the hut, and the mare blushed deeply as she looked lamely at the door as it swung open. “You must be tired from your long walk. Come and rest, and then we can talk.”

The Changeling hesitated for only a moment, and then she almost crept towards the door, blushing a bit as she blurted out: “I'm sorry for uh, just showing up, Zecora, but... but there was something I wanted to ask you if you weren't busy at all, and... I mean, I just... I hope that I'm not interrupting...”

Here she was, stumbling all over her words. And not just because she was embarrassed, but because it had been forever since she'd actually had a conversation with someone outside of her own head. In her head, sure, she was always eloquent and able to keep up her side of the conversation, but now here, in the real world, as she nervously entered the zebra's hut...

She looked lamely up as Zecora smiled at her kindly: she had deep, beautiful blue eyes and a stiff mohawk mane. Gold hoops adorned her neck and matching anklets hung around her forelegs, but none of her jewelry was ostentatious: there was a sense of neatness and arrangement to everything she was wearing, as if all of it had some secret purpose.

“I don't get many visitors out here; how have you been, Marina my dear?” Zecora asked kindly, giving her a friendly smile, and Marina gave her a lame smile in return as her eyes wandered around the interior of the cabin: it was comfortable but a little squished, a cauldron in the middle of the structure exhaling sweet-smelling smoke, masks and strange statuettes and hanging charms all around the hut seeming to watch them with eerie vitality, as if they all possessed some sort of life of their own.

“Uh... fine. Fine.” Marina said awkwardly. She had to repress her natural Changeling instinct to mimic and reflect: even after all these years, when she found herself meeting someone new or in an uncomfortable situation, she always fell back on old programming, which told her to try and imitate and manipulate.

But she was working to change that. And, well, she sure as hell couldn't rhyme on the spot like Zecora could, either.

They looked at each other awkwardly for a moment, and Marina took a breath, deciding to skip platitudes and not waste time for either of them as she asked hesitantly: “Zecora, not to be rude, but... I mean... I've seen you around Ponyville ever since I was...”

“Ah, I see now why you've come all this way... no, don't worry, it's quite okay.” Zecora reassured at the look on Marina's face. “Of course you of all people would want to know how I am still alive, and-”

“Not just alive, but... you're so young, and pretty, and you feel...” Marina struggled to find the right word, then blushed as she looked lamely at the zebra, who was giving her an amused look. “Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt you. Do... do you need to start over?”

“I'm not actually cursed, and don't need to rhyme to speak.” Zecora said mildly, and Marina blushed deeper before the zebra smiled wider and said gently: “Why don't we get to know each other right now? I have some chores that could use your Changeling know-how.”

“Oh?” Marina rose her head in confusion. “Well, I'm always happy to help, but... I don't know what you would need a Changeling for...”

“Changelings can read emotions and do things even I cannot; or at least, that was something I was always taught.” Zecora tilted her head. “Can you help me find a few animals I need? You should be able to sense what I cannot see in grass and weed.”

“Oh!” Marina nodded and smiled a little: yes, she could use her emotional reading to sense animals. As a matter of fact... “I've never been... especially good at it, but I can communicate a little even with wild animals, too. Or sort of hypnotize them, at least, although that isn't a very good word for it.”

“I would appreciate that even more, my Changeling friend. Perhaps I can make you dinner after we see these chores through to their end.” Zecora suggested, and it took Marina a moment for her to realize what the zebra was saying.

“Oh, oh oh oh! Yes, well, I don't want you to go through any trouble for me...” Marina blushed, however, as her stomach rumbled a little at the thought of food. She hadn't been doing as badly as she'd used to, but well... it had been a day or so since she'd actually sat down to eat anything. Sometimes she just got so caught up with what was going on around her that she forgot to take care of herself, and how she needed more than the occasional feeding to survive...

Zecora shook her head, then almost chided: “It's no trouble at all to do. Besides, if you can help me, of course in return I should help you.”

Marina smiled a little at this, and then she admitted after a moment: “I suppose I've just... always had trouble accepting help of any kind. Thank you, though. A meal would be very nice.”

“And we can talk over food, of course. I'll make plenty, you must be as hungry as horse.” Zecora said with maybe the slightest hint of mischief, winking at the mare before she turned, and Marina laughed despite herself as she followed the zebra to the door and back out into the Everfree Forest.

During her early days serving as a Changeling in Chrysalis' army, Marina had been a scout: she had been trained in infiltration and learned to detect things beyond what your average drone would be able to pick up on. She could feel some of these old skills and instincts rising up as she and Zecora worked together to track down and capture a few animals, helping her study Zecora and understand both that the zebra was weighing her in return, and more, that there was something... different about her.

It wasn't just the fact that she was a zebra, it was in the way she moved, the way she behaved. She didn't seem to be afraid of anything in the Everfree, and everything from the insects to the beasts seemed to treat Zecora with a kind of apprehensive respect.

And there was a weird feeling there, wasn't there? She remembered her first time seeing Zecora: Twilight had been with her, and Marina had commented on how funny it was to see a zebra here in Equestria, and Twilight had laughed and told her about how she and her friends had all gotten so worked up the first time they had met the zebra shaman. She had said that she was a little strange and different, sure, but she was very kind and always helpful, providing all sorts of tinctures and tonics to the ill and needy around Ponyville.

But Twilight had admitted sometimes she still thought Zecora was a little strange, and that other ponies found Zecora a little weird, too... but they always chalked that up to the fact that the zebra was very different from them in many ways. That was all.

Except what if there was something strange about this zebra, beyond the fact she was far from home and had lived for more than a century without changing in the slightest?

Okay, those were all pretty strange things to begin with, but what if there was something... stranger?

Marina studied Zecora curiously as they headed back to her little hut with the herbs and the animals they'd collected in tow, but even when the zebra glanced up, she only smiled at her in a way that told the Changeling she would be given answers, but all in due time.

Zecora brought the animals around back and Marina helped lead them into cages: while she had subdued a few of them with her Changeling magic, Zecora had gotten a few others under control by... well, she wasn't really sure, actually. But all of the animals were listening to her, even the cockatrice, and Marina knew that wasn't exactly an easy creature to tame.

The mare hesitated as she looked across these cages: none of them seemed particularly long-term, even though they all had a bit of water, and a bit of feed in them. She also noted that there were strange tools sitting out on a table nearby: what looked like a sort of needle, and a funny-looking, keg-like device that smelled a little like copper...

But then Zecora gently grasped a tarp and pulled this quickly over the table, smiling at Marina as she invited: “Please feel free to head back inside, I'll just make sure these animals are comfortable outside.”

“Uh... alright.” Marina smiled awkwardly after a moment, then she turned to head inside, nervously shifting the satchel of medicinal plants on her side. It was clear that she was being gently told to leave for a moment, after all, even if that only made her more curious – almost suspicious – of what it was the zebra was getting up to outside.

Still, she felt like she'd have her answers sooner rather than later, and she didn't want to spoil the mood. So far they had gotten along pretty well, even if they were both measuring each other, and both maybe a little wary. Not for the usual reasons you were wary around strangers in this world, though: rather, it was like she couldn't be sure just what Zecora was, and Zecora was trying to decide how much Marina knew, and how much she should know.

The Changeling grimaced a bit as she pushed through the door of the hut and shifted the satchel off, rubbing at her throat as she felt her glammer flicker for a moment. But she managed to get herself under control, taking a slow breath as she steadied herself.

She looked around the interior, not really wanting to snoop around too much. It didn't look to her like Zecora's life had changed a whole lot from how she had imagined it had once been: she wondered silently if life would ever be the same for the rest of them. She didn't think so, though: even if one day everything went back to the way it had been, and the Stables were opened, and the radiation vanished... so much had changed. So much had been lost.

Maybe she was just thinking dark thoughts again because she didn't feel all that well, though. She sighed a little, silently rubbing at her face before she glanced up as Zecora entered, asking gently: “You look like heavy thoughts are weighing you down... what's on your mind that makes you so frown?”

“Just... thoughts.” Marina said, not really wanting to get into things, before she grimaced as she rubbed at her face as she sat back, murmuring: “Besides, most of the world out there is full of... heavy thoughts.”

“I do not think things are really quite so bad. Equestria and her people survive; that's not so sad.” Zecora encouraged, and Marina smiled a little.

“That's true. But living out there is exhausting, Zecora. There's so much that's gone wrong and so many ponies who have grown up in a wasteland instead of a real country... so many ponies who are hurt and don't know what to do, so they either surrender or they start hurting other ponies.” Marina bit her lip, then ventured: “But I guess that you know how stressful that can be to live through, day in, day out, after you've been alive for so long...”

Zecora only chuckled quietly, and then she shrugged and replied: “I can imagine that some days must be very tiring. But that is why I live out here, away from all that conspiring.”

“I suppose it would be a lot quieter out here.” The Changeling blushed a bit in embarrassment: so much for her skills as a scout. She cleared her throat, then asked a bit more bluntly: “How have you managed to live out here, all alone, for all these years, though? How did you survive... everything, I guess?”

“I'll tell you that story in only a short time... first, could you pass me the bottle of thyme?” Zecora gestured at what Marina had thought at first was some kind of alchemy shelf filled with ingredients, and the Changeling mare realized dumbly it was just a spice rack.

She walked over to grab the spice, wondering moodily if the zebra had sent her there just so she could make a rhyme, before she blinked in surprise when Zecora stirred the ashes under the cauldron and flames leapt up almost immediately, like magic. But the zebra only smiled as she took the spice jar from Marina, explaining: “I was about to prepare a small dinner when you arrived at my door; thanks to your help with the animals, I can make a little more. A stew, I was thinking, and if you like I can prepare some meat; it's not my usual succor but I'm happy to make you a treat...”

“Oh, oh no. That's quite fine.” Marina shook her head quickly, giving an awkward smile. “I've never been much for that. I guess I got so used to eating like a pony and... Changelings are... well, I hate to use the term scavenger...”

“Not picky, then?” Zecora quipped, and Marina laughed a little and nodded with a bit more of a smile. “Then something else from the hen...”

Zecora slipped away from the cauldron to a small pantry, and Marina cocked her head before she smiled a little when Zecora produced a box of eggs, the Changeling mare admitting: “It's been a long time since I've had an egg. We usually end up giving most of our resources to the needy in Ponyville. But... I guess...”

“You don't feel the attachment to Ponyville you once had. You're not as attached to the children as you were to their mom and dad.” Zecora said, perhaps a little blunt, but Marina nodded all the same after a moment as she gave a small smile.

“The needy are always going to be there. I suppose I could just... keep providing for people, but...” Marina shook her head, looking away. “I don't know. All the ponies I knew are gone, either dead or moved on. Ponyville isn't what it used to be and I can't see myself protecting what little is left much longer. Maybe it's selfish, maybe it's...”

She stopped, then laughed a little, saying embarrassedly: “Look at this. I came out here to talk to you and find out about you and... now I'm talking and making this all about me. I mean. I guess I wanted to know about you for my own sake in the first place, and... well, I mean-”

“Marina.” Zecora said gently, and the Changeling mare blushed deeper as she nodded and quieted.

They was silence for a few moments as Zecora went about preparing a meal for them. Marina only watched, feeling like it would be better for now just to sit back and observe.

Zecora worked quickly and efficiently, and in only a short time, she prepared some kind of stew, and several hardboiled eggs for them to share. She doled the food out between them, and Marina couldn't help but notice that Zecora gave her the lion's share, but it wasn't like she was about to complain about that. It was very hard, but you learned to accept gifts with grace... especially when it had already gone more than a day without a proper meal.

They ate in quiet for a little while, and then Zecora asked bluntly: “Did you walk through the poison on the way here? You have... an unhealthy aura, my dear.”

Marina wondered if the zebra was being literal or not as she absently touched her chest, then she sighed and shook her head. “No, but I think I've done too many trips into the wasteland. Maybe I took too many risks... I never seemed to be affected as badly by the radiation as ponies were, but... I guess it was silly to think that it wasn't affecting me at all.”

“We tend not to think about that which we cannot see; but that doesn't mean it isn't affecting you or me.” Zecora agreed, nodding slowly. “You should know that a healer must put her own life first; if you don't take care of yourself-”

“I'm not a healer, though. I'm...” Marina struggled for an answer, then she sighed and rose one of her mechanical limbs, moodily gesturing with it. “Different.”

“Different does not mean bad. You don't have to look so sad.” chastised Zecora.

“Well, I am sad!” Marina almost snapped, and then she shook her head and looked awkwardly away, mumbling an apology.

But Zecora only smiled at her, shaking her own head as she answered gently: “And there is nothing wrong with being sad. Just as there is nothing wrong with being mad. But you can't allow those things alone to guide your hoof; you need something harder, a desire's proof.”

“How can a desire have proof?” Marina asked almost pessimistically, but then she shook her head and murmured: “No, I... I do understand what you're saying. And I don't disagree, but at the same time I guess I don't feel that I belong in Ponyville anymore. And if I'm getting sick now, well, I... I do have to take care of myself. I can't keep going on adventures for Ponyville if I'm just going to get sicker. What if I told them I'd go out and find them some supplies and I died halfway back to Ponyville? Worse, what if something happened, and... I got captured, or injured, or followed, and I led raiders or worse back to the village?”

“So take some time, and do as I: help what remains when you can bear to try.” Zecora shrugged, and she seemed to hesitate for a moment as she studied Marina before she said in a quieter voice: “I understand what it's like to be an outsider, and to all the same want to be a provider. But you and I can only do so much... even when they beg, sometimes our touch...”

She stopped, then shook her head before she said quietly: “It took many years for me to understand my role. To be able to form an attainable goal. The world has changed, but my own place has not: I will not surrender after all that I have fought. Now, more than ever, I have to admit... the urge is there to give in, the urge is there to quit. What does it matter, when the world is a waste? And some days I would give anything for one taste...”

Zecora licked her lips slowly as she picked at her food, and Marina studied her silently before the zebra looked up and said quietly: “Yes, I am old. I am older than you by far. And yes I live in exile, and have not seen my country for... a long while.” Zecora smiled briefly. “The longest while.

“I am from an old clan, we were protectors of our land... and over my many years alive, I had seen jungle, sea, and sand. But one day I did a foolish thing, tangled with a spirit in a too-small ring...” Zecora silently trailed a hoof down her chest, before she reached up and touched her muzzle. “And it cost me dearly. A pain I feel deeper yearly...”

“So... what happened?” Marina asked uncertainly, frowning at the mare. “Are you trying to say that... an evil spirit did something to you? That you're... cursed?”

“In these times, I suppose ponies think of it more like a disease... although to my knowledge, it does not spread through cough or sneeze.” Zecora smiled wryly, and Marina realized that when Zecora smiled, she never showed her teeth. “But I am avoiding the question, perhaps because it has been so long since I last made this confession...”

The zebra took a breath, and then she looked across at Marina and said quietly: “The greatest curse is power, power that leeches at your soul; power that demands you pay its price or never be whole. That is the curse that was placed upon my head; to be strong, to be fast, to be powerful, and yet neither living nor dead.”

Marina frowned, and then she asked slowly: “So you're... not alive? Wait, is that how you survived-”

“I would prefer not to talk about... that.” Zecora said carefully, and Marina smiled lamely. “But yes. I seem to have more lives than a cat.”

She paused, then reflected: “Well, if those lives weren't all precisely alive.”

Marina waited for the rhyme, and when there wasn't one, she only smiled awkwardly, and Zecora gave her a look before the zebra sighed softly, then explained finally, the sharpening of her blue eyes and the lack of rhyming making her words all the more serious: “I am what I suppose you would call a vampire. I require the blood of other living things to survive... but it helps me stay strong, and young, and gives me enhanced senses and... influence, I suppose you would say.”

“The animals listened to you. But they were scared, too.” Marina said after a moment, biting her lip before she blurted out: “But how can you be a vampire? I thought that vampires-”

“Were monsters? I did not say I was not a monster, Marina, although once upon a time Changelings were considered monsters, too.” Zecora said pointedly, and Marina smiled lamely at this, feeling the ruffle of emotion... “No, I am sorry. I spoke out of turn. It has been a long time since I have shared this with anyone, and... I cannot expect-”

“Well, I'm sorry, too. I didn't mean to say it like that. Here I am, the first person you've opened up to in how long, and what do I do?” Marina shook her head, then she smiled a little before she asked hesitantly: “How do you feed? If no one else knows...”

“Animals. The occasional raider. And rarely, when I must, a lonely pony from the town... although never more than just a nip, just enough to force the hunger down.” Zecora shook her head. “I don't like it, but I know better than to wait too long... if I wait for many days, the hunger, it grows strong...”

“And you risk... hurting someone. I understand. I understand that all too well.” Marina murmured, thinking of her own need to feed before she chewed on her lip, looking up at Zecora as she said quietly: “Still, you don't feel much different from a pony, Zecora. Your emotions are all the same.”

“Well, you seem little different from a pony to me, my friend.” Zecora replied with a brief smile, and Marina laughed a little before the zebra ventured: “This may be bold of me to suggest... but perhaps you and I could come to an agreement...”

Marina frowned, and Zecora smiled a little before she looked back down at her plate, shaking her head briefly as she resumed picking at her food. “After dinner, perhaps, then we can talk on it a little more. Your food is getting cold and I don't want to be a bore.”

“You're never a bore.” Marina said, studying the zebra for a few moments before she nodded hesitantly, turning her attention back down to her plate.

But she had a lingering feeling all the same about what Zecora might want to ask... and she thought she already knew what her answer was going to be.