Mad Mare

The pale-mauve mare sprung up in cold sweat. She was alone in a small square room. The walls were built of metal sheets, welded together and stuffed with compacted sand. Late daylight was leaking through the old rusty shutters, lazily painting bright yellow stripes over the walls and minimal furniture inbound. She was sitting on a rusty spring bed in only a new grey nightshirt. Her neatly folded clothes rested on a small nightstand beside the bed.

She looked around with an expression of curious perplexity on her face. The results of the last battle were clearly noticeable. Her forehoof was in a cast with a metal rod and wrapped in faintly luminous yellowish bandages. So was her leg. Her waist and rib cage were enveloped as well. Her body ached, but she barely squinted.

“I’m… I’m me again…” She murmured, “What have you done?”

“Whatever may you mean?” Her virtual companion queried.

“The bandages. Who knows?” The mare sat up.

“Don’t worry that much. I did them myself.”

The mare sighed with relief before touching her face only to feel the sharpened iron muzzle still attached to her face, so were the irons on her hooves, “Couldn’t do anything about these?”

“Not while staying incognito.”

“How long were we out?” The mare stepped off the bed.

“Around eighteen hours.”

“How long?” She couldn’t believe her ears.

“What? I went all out against the hellhound.”

The mare sighed, “I don’t remember anything after you killed Butch. What happened?” She took the clothes off the nightstand and began dressing up.

“Well, everyone was in awe after the hellhound died. The dirty griffon-"

"Gadget."

"… was taken into custody back to the Underworld. I was escorted back to the other griffon-”

“Agnate.”

“... fed and given a medkit. A good one at that.”

“But we are clean.”

“I took a shower.”

“When? How?”

“They have a Purifier Crystal here.”

“And the water supply?”

“Don’t know. Don’t care.”

The mare sighed, buttoning up the overcoat and wrapping the old bandage around her eye and over the iron muzzle.

“What are you going to do now?”

“I want to ask Master a couple of questions.”

“He is in the dungeon. Ask the old griffon by the entrance to the Underworld to know where that is. Don’t forget to claim the prize for the complete deal after that.”

“Yeah, I know.” She put the ranger cavalry hat on.

“Will you be talking?” She teased.

“There’s no point in keeping quiet anymore.” The mare sighed with a faint note of sadness or regret in her voice.

She approached the door, noticing a key in it. She pulled it out and left the room. She was standing a catwalk ten floors above the ground. Lines of doors just like hers stretched to both sides, each leading to a presumably indistinguishable room to hers. The living blocks were carved into the side of the query, identical levels cascading down like an oversized amphitheater. This was some sort of a motel or a guest house.

The top of the mountain was only a dozen meters higher, but the view was captivating nonetheless. A few war-time rusty artillery cannons and haphazardly-repaired machine guns dotted the rim of the mountain. The sun was showering the Haggletown in pleasant daylight. All the huts and shops were small and neatly packed down below in well-organized streets and districts - something not easily noticeable from down below. The only other structure as high was, perhaps, the Agnate’s building. And, of course, the fifty-meter grey rings and twisted arcs of the ancient metal beast that collapsed over the rocky cauldron. The pale-mauve mare couldn’t help but let a little smile form on her face.

She closed the door to her room and went down to the ground level. The streets were busy as the day before. Creatures were rushing around, buying, chatting, trotting, and minding their own business. The pale-mauve mare tried avoiding everyone, slithering her way through the crowds. But from time to time someone would recognize her, giving her a nervous look but not bold enough to approach.

She made her way to the opposite side of the town, passing the Thunderdome. It was empty. The broken projector was cleared away, leaving the place it belonged to hollow. The meat cleaver was taken away, but the railing and grid were still in shambles. The sand in the arena was still covered in sprinkled, dried out, and rotting blood. The mare walked by the metal dome straight towards the gate to the cave system under the mountain. The familiar old griffon was sitting in his booth under the same flickering light.

“Little Lady, what a pleasant surprise.” The griffon smirked, “Quite a show you gave yesterday.”

The pale-mauve mare hung her head. But she did not let a reminder of her infamous achievements hinder her for long and changed the topic, “I never asked for your name.”

“Glaucus Guts, but the folks here call me Manager.”

“My pleasure, Glaucus.” She beamed.

“The pleasure is all mine. Here for some business, hon, or just came to visit?”

“I would like to see Master, please. If it is possible...”

The griffon squinted, noticing the changed manner of speech, “First door to the left, wait for me there.” The mare nodded, moving into the tunnel to Underworld. One of the heavy metal doors creaked open to let the old griffon out. He was holding a set of keys with him. “Follow me.” He said, moving ahead. He was limping in silence, only the keys chiming every couple of steps. This was making the mare uncomfortable, though she wasn’t going to start asking what was wrong. They moved into the methane factory, but his time, instead of going down to the pig farm, they stepped onto the catwalk above it. They walked along the wall until the Manager stopped in front of a gate. The keys chimed again as one of them slid into a small crevice in the door and turned. They passed through. That was when the old griffon finally broke the silence.

“Abuse or death?”

“W-What?” The mare paused her trot, “What do you mean?”

“You are not the same creature I was talking to yesterday. I’ve seen it before, after the Talon Massacre. Same body - different personalities.”

Mare’s expression became grim. She lowered her head, “Both...”

“I’m sorry.”

“Why have you joined Haggletown?” The mare swiftly changed the subject.

He chuckled, “I couldn’t just leave little Gabby to her own devices. What kind of father would I be?”

“Gabby? You mean Agnate?”

The griffon nodded. The mare beamed from the excitement of realization. The sight forced the Glaucus to crack up again.

“Um… I was wondering...”

“What is it?”

“Where does the town get its water? There is nothing but desert for kilometers in all directions.”

“There is pipeline going from the Salt Factory all the way on the north coast to The Sisters know where. We tapped into it.”

They were standing in front of a circular vault door twice the size of the Manager. He flickered through the keys, finding the right one and sliding it in a small opening in the metal. A soft click echoed through the tunnel, followed a heavy hissing of the hinges.

“I'll wait here.” Glaucus gestured the mare to pass through into the room behind the door.

The latter nodded and stepped inside. Before her, she saw a large rectangular room. The ceiling was high, at least three of the mare’s heights. Carefully chiseled out walls were reinforced with triangular steel braces and covered in a metal net. The chamber was split in two by prison cell bars.

“You.” A squeaky rancid voice of the Master, hoarse from dehydration and mourning, came sounding from behind the iron, “Here to gloat?” He was the size of a teenage colt, though the wrinkles around his face gave away his real age. His coat was mud-colored; the small sunken eyes - hazel. A short receded black mane was oily and clotted together from a lack of hygiene. His front legs and bare chest seemed fit and muscled despite the age. His hind legs, on the contrary, looked more like two small atrophied and twisted stumps then anything resembling appendages. They were sticking out of the torn off and swirled cuffs of old jewel miner’s pants, held on by a tough leather belt.

She sat down, leaning back onto a wall, “I am sorry.”

“Bullshit.”

“We- I never wanted to harm anyone, but I was left no other choice.”

“He was just a pup!” His face was twisted in an expression of mournful anger and his eyes glistened.

The pale-mauve mare hung her head, “Did you know that Blaster had six months at best to live?”

He instantly faced her in both shock and anger, “What?”

“His sclerae were yellow...”

“What?"

"His eyes around the irises. They were yellow."

"So what?”

“That meant his liver had failed. He had been living in pain for quite a while...”

They sat in silence until Master finally broke it, “He never complained… He seemed energetic. He ate loads.” For a little while, he seemed to have forgotten about the mare.

“Where have you met?”

Master’s eyebrows sunk. They both remained silent. Time passed and the pale-mauve mare concluded it was time to leave. She got up, apologizing again, and headed towards the exit when the unicorn growled under his breath, “Gerudo Canyon…” The mare stopped. “Of the Poison Pools Valley... I fell into Taint bog.” He nodded to his legs, showcasing the results of that fall. “Blaster pulled me out.“ He paused for a moment, “Did he die painfully?”

The mare shook her head, “I don’t think he could feel any outside irritators anymore...”

He turned away, a pained smile on his face.

The mare sighed, “Why did you join Haggletown?”

“I built it.” He puffed.

The mare contemplated for a moment. “Why did you side with Lord Gigantus then?”

“He’s strong. He can protect Haggletown.”

“Why would it need protection? I saw guns around the quarry. This is a miniature Citadel.”

“It can fight off a small attack. Once. Ammo is scarce. No food supply. It won’t survive a siege. Lord Gigantus has food, guns, and soldiers."

“So instead of waiting for Haggletown to be conquered by Gigantus, you offered it to him?”

“You can’t understand. Too young. Too naive. Hate to break it to you, filly, but it’s a free-for-all down here. The strong survive. The weak serve or die.”

She paused, “I might be young and I’m most certainly naive. But is it that naive to have honor? To have a moral code that goes beyond simple self-preservation and self-satisfaction? To be respected for your virtues and not your flaws?”

“Honor? Moral code? I had them, look where I am now.”

“What about the missing citizens? Pork supplies? Whatever guns you had?”

“Hard times - hard decisions.”

“You had sacrificed your own people.”

“I saved hundreds.”

“You abused your power!”

“I did what I must!” He punched the metal railing.

“Exactly!” She did the same, “You did what you had to...”

“Wha-”

“You have a horrible personality and the way you had treated your debtors is unacceptable, but that does not cross out all that you did in order to preserve the town and its citizens.”

“You praise or you mock?” Master was lost in this sudden turn of the conversation.

“Though some of your actions were rash and poorly considered, you can still make it right. But do you really think this is the end of your duties?”

“I did what was right. Now I’m in a dungeon for it. What else can I do?”

“Haggletown still needs its energy. Provide it. I will see what I can do about ammo and food.”

“Haggletown chose war.”

“Why can’t you see? Haggletown and Underworld are not two different entities. Neither can survive without the other. Neither can thrive without the other. They are one. A symbiote, if you may.”

“You don’t understand.”

“Understand what?”

He gestured her to come closer. The mare obeyed, nearing the iron bars that separated the two and leaned over with her ear. The stallion’s hoof propelled forward, taking hold of the fold on the mare’s vest, and pulled her in. Her chest crashed into the metal poles. The metallic taste of the bars lingered on the back of her tongue, mixing in with the smell of her once-rusty iron muzzle. The unicorn’s breath smelled of warm after-smoke of a heavy drinker. It layered with a damp smell of sweat and feces, Master was working on a pig factory for who knows how many years after all.

“One Nine Eight Six.” He whispered in her ear, “ My office. Find answers there. Trust nobody, especially not Agnate and her lackeys.”

He let go. The mare toppled back, quickly raising herself up once again and dusting the rims of her overcoat. Surprisingly, her chest didn’t hurt. That weak protection enchantment on her vest seemed to be the culprit. That, however, seemed like the only thing that enchantment was good for.

“Again, I’m sorry for your loss,” she nodded, “and thank you.” The pale-mauve mare was about to leave when the Master stopped her.

“What’s your name?” He queried.

“I don’t have one.”

“Choose one soon.”

The mare tipped the cavalry ranger hat and stepped out of the dungeon. The vault door shut behind her, sending a lasting dull echo through the empty hallways of the cave system. The lock clicked and the griffon, who was patiently waiting outside the room, stepped forward.

“What were you talking about?” Manager asked.

“Mournings and morals.”

“Huh.” The griffon seemed impressed or, at least, intrigued by her answer. He shook his head, “Where now, Little Lady?”

“Um… I’d love to talk to Gabby if this is possible.”

“That can be arranged. But do you mind if we pass a terminal first? I need to notify her for visitors.”

“Of course.”

“This way then.” He nodded, moving deeper into the tunnel.

The pale-mauve mare followed. The cave was the same with every step, lined with the monotone buzzing of industrial lighting on its walls. Now and then a gas pipe or a band of wires would appear, twist and turn along the ceiling and then disappear once again into a small drilled hole in a wall. Or a stain mark from condensed vapor and running rust flowing down to the floor.

"I was wondering," the mare began hesitantly, "you told me where Haggletown gets its water but isn't it salt or industrial water going from the Salt Factory? Where did you get a purification crystal?"

"You mean a Water Talisman?"

The mare nodded.

"When we began to deconstruct the Zebran Warmachine above us for scrap, it was a pleasant surprise to find one within its cooling system."

"And those concrete buildings on top, what are they?"

"This place was called Mount Dusty. During the war, it was one of the gem quarries and after the gems were all dug up, they found a small amount of coal deeper inside it. And it had some strategic relevance to the Mild Western defenses. Those buildings were military and storage facilities."

The Manager disappeared behind another corner. As the pale-mauve mare turned, a new view opened up to her. Up until that point, the tunnel was dug up, chiseled, but bare, but this corridor was wider, bulkier, the ceiling was high; the walls were no longer just rock and limestone, they were made out of concrete, rigid and angular. This was clearly an extension of the old concrete buildings on the top of the quarry the mare saw earlier.

But the hallway itself would be nothing special, if not for the horrific relics of the past that were carved into its walls. Long thin grooves, holes, and torn-off chunks from bullets. Molten and discolored cement from splashed potions. Charcoal burn marks from energy weapons. Craters in walls and ground from grenades.

“It will take a minute.” The Manager stopped, turning around to a pillar-like grey box with a big black screen in the front. A small green cursor blinked at the start of the line, awaiting for The Manager to type in his commands through a big keyboard below the glass.

The pale-mauve mare wasn’t going to just patiently sit by. The corridor, though giving her the chills, intrigued her. She walked over through it, looking closely at the damage from a century-old battle. Some of the dents in the concrete glimmered as she moved by. On closer inspection they still had greenish and pinkish metal shards stuck in them.

As she walked a spacious air vent caught her attention and she hadn’t noticed how she reached one of the grenade craters. Her hoof slipped. She quickly snapped out of it, regaining her footing. This was only to see a coal-black silhouette of an agonized pony figure burnt into a wall, surrounded by a pinkish-red aura.

An expression of shock painted mare’s face as a wave of shivers washed over her body. She was stupefied, just staring at it.

Dead silence filled up with muffled screams, rumbling of motors, cracking of burning wood, the crackling of guns, and wheezing of energy weapons. It was growing louder and louder. Mare's body tensed up. She was shivering. Her eyes began to water, breaths sharp and shallow.

“Snap out of this.” A harsh voice of the pale-mauve mare’s virtual companion commanded, climbing its way from behind the racket, “This is not real. It’s just a memory. It’s not real.” She hadn’t surfaced to take over, just spoke, “You are not there. You are in Haggletown.”

“They must pay.” A yet unfamiliar female growling voice rang soundly somewhere in the back of the mare’s mind, “All who are left will pay.”

“Don’t listen. Just focus on my voice. It’s just a memory. You are in Haggletown. It’s not real. It-”

A griffon claw tapped on the pale-mauve mare’s shoulder. All the ruckus and all the voices seized to exist, dragging her back into reality. She reflexively pulled on the claws, shooting another hoof to the griffon’s neck. She stopped as it touched the skin, grazing it enough for a droplet of blood to stain her hoof. A small streak of tears glistened down the mare’s cheek. It took a second until she recognized the person before her to be the Manager.

The mare pulled the hoof back, startled from what she had done and still disoriented. “I- I- I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to… I...” With a quick motion, she wiped her face dry.

The Manager raised his claws with an understanding nod. “Energy weapons,” he examined the silhouette, “nasty things.”

“They are...”

“Well, good news: Gabby will see you now.” He informed, massaging the damaged part of his neck.

She nodded. As they left for the Agnate's building, the mare gave one last glance at the ventilation shaft before it disappeared behind the corner. The entirety of the journey back, the mare seemed lost either in thoughts or her whereabouts. She stayed quiet. The Manager seemed to tell some kind of a story, but his words didn't reach her ears. What did, were the warnings of her virtual companion that the whole situation doesn’t feel right. She gave no reasoning behind it but a ‘gut feeling’ she had. It was sufficient enough for the mare to be careful.

The sun was as bright as always. It wasn't the same entrance to the tunnel system, than that they came in through. The streets of Haggletown were busy. Everyone was minding their own business, chattering, selling, and buying. The yesterday's champion seemed insignificant now, entitled only to an occasional glance or an even rarer nod, but more often to a cautious step back.

The four earth ponies by the elevator wheel way daydreaming, their heads rested against the base of the contraption. One was scribing something onto a piece of paper with a graphite stylus. He rushed to hide them up as soon as he spotted The Manager with the mare approaching them.

The griffon stepped into the elevator. The pale-mauve mare followed suite. As the platform began to raise, she got a glimpse of what the earth pony was drawing. It was a set of sketches and life-like illustrations of the Mad Mare herself in various action poses and a portrait of her just giving a kind smile.

She couldn't help but light up. “You've inspired someone…” She whispered to herself.

“If it isn’t my prized savior.” The griffon greeted the pale-mauve mare as she exited the elevator. She seemed in a much more uplifted mood than the previous day.

“Agnate.” The mare tipped the hat.

“Is there something you would like to know before you depart?”

“Depart?”

“Yesterday you said you will be leaving Haggletown.”

The mare looked aside with a raised eyebrow as if telling her other self “and you haven’t bothered telling me that?” She sighed, turning back. “It must have slipped my mind.”

“Not an issue at all.”

“Stay alert,” the voice of mare's other self warned, “I never said I was planning on leaving. The old guy probably told on our condition. She was testing if she could screw you over and you gave her the green light.”

The mare tensed up a little. Agate noticed it too, moving over towards the table.

“Stay calm.”

The mare ran her eyes over the closed curtains around the hall.

“The rooms? You're right: a couple of guards are probably hiding there. And since my performance during the ‘testing,’ they are most likely better prepared. We have the upper hoof right now, but not for long. Get the locket and get out of here. If push comes to shove, break the lever behind you: platform drops, you grab a loose cable and escape. If you’re going to lie - close your eyes. They give you up right away.”

The pale-mauve mare gave a small smile, "First things first: I would like my chainlet back. I never had a chance to take it off of the Crimson Sin. Been at, what I would've called morgue, it's not there. And you're way too thorough not to have taken it off yourself after the battle."

The griffon's grin turned into a grimace of a well-suppressed surprise. Agnate quickly pulled her factitious welcoming smile back on, "Of course." She went into the storage room of hers, soon reappearing with the mare's necklace, and handed it over.

"Thank you." The pale-mauve mare put it on, gently holding the glistening black crystal close to her chest, before hiding it under the robes. She sighed in relief before returning to the pressing masters, "As the job I was hired for is complete, I would like to take my reward and be out of your feathers."

Agnate, still concerned for the integrity of her town’s security and now relieved by the fact that the mare is leaving, nodded: "The carriage, as previously discussed, is parked by the entrance to the town.”

"Then I'll be on my way."

"Wait," Agnate stopped, "I don't know what Master told you about me, but don't trust it even for a second."

"What do you mean?"

"We found some evidence connecting him to both Lord Gigantus and Gas Town."

"Gas Town? What do they have to do with any of it?"

"Most of Mild West," Manager stepped in, "is under the control of three major forces: Citadel, Bullet Farm, and Gas Town. But a bunch of villages, settlements, and raider outposts have chosen to remain independent. I'm not even talking about the Buzzards, who themselves are a force to be reckoned with."

"The point is," Agnate nodded to the Manager, "Gas Town began expanding its domain. They send in a creature to destabilize a settlement's hierarchy and then take over."

"She's suspecting you," mare's virtual companion warned, "get out of here."

"I will keep that in mind." The pale-mauve mare began to retreat, "Thank you for your hospitality."

She stepped onto the elevator and it began to descend. Before the room disappeared above, she tipped her hat once again. The mare greeted the stallions by the elevator wheel once again before disappearing behind a building.

"That wasn't quite what I would call smooth," the mare's virtual companion teased, "but it did its job. Now, take the carriage and leave."

The mare swiftly changed direction, moving towards the second entrance to the Underworld.

"What are you doing?"

"Giving Master the benefit of the doubt."

"Forget him. He's not your concern. Get the carriage and leave."

"If it's true that Agnate thinks we are the spy, do you really think she'll allow us to leave?"

"You've got a point there."

The mare quietly went back into the tunnels. They were calm and empty for the majority of the way. But when she got to the ventilation shaft, four sets of hoof steps began echoing through the twists of the long corridors.

She jumped, pushing herself off a wall and grabbing onto the inner turn of the ventilation shaft. She quickly pulled herself up and disappeared into the tunnel before the guards appeared from around the corner.

"So?" The mare's other self needled, "How will you find the amputee's office?"

She shrugged, moving through the ventilation way while trying not to let her shackles clank on the walls.

"Great. So, what now? Will it just magically be the first door right around the corner?"

She made a sharp turn and passingly glanced over to find a lattice and a steel door with a MasterBlaster engraving behind it.

"And there it is… all magical."

The corridor before the door was narrow and empty. Only a couple of small ambient pictures hung on the walls. A lot of long and narrow claw marks radiated from the door in all directions.

The mare waited for a little just to make sure there wasn’t anyone around. The vent gave off a smell of humid dust and moldy aluminium, though the vent itself seemed more or less clean. She looked the lattice over. It was made out of thin metal plating. The frame was attached by two hinges by the bottom and a little pin on top.

It was silent. She carefully placed her hoof on the pin and jolted it forward. With a click and squeak the frame swung open. The mare squeezed through the new opening and landed elegantly with a soft clatter on the tiled floor. The corridor indeed was empty, though its sized were vastly underestimated. On one side was a long slightly curved and poorly lit hallway, on the other was a dead end. She approached the door. It looked like a pre-war blast-resistant gate with a large keypad stuck out of the wall beside it.

“One nine eight six, right?” She mumbled rhetorically, putting in the code.

The door clanked and hissed. The mare pulled on it with all she had, managing to make an opening big enough to squeeze through.

The office was big well-lit square, decorated by welded-together scrap metal incrustations, pipes, and beams. A big desk took up a quarter of the room. The wall behind it was almost fully covered by a corkboard with a variety of papers, pictures, and interconnected wires.

“Conspiracy theory much?” Mare’s virtual companion remarked.

“Let’s check before coming to conclusions.”

The mare carefully approached the board, looking over the papers. They were mostly lists of expenses and resources. But several lists caught the mare’s attention. She looked closer.

“Gas Town… So Master was investigating the same thing as Agnate…”

“So what about it?”

“That means that he isn’t what Agnate told us he is.”

“And…?”

“Look here, he is suspecting her.”

“So they are accusing each while the real perpetrator is staying incognito?”

“If only creatures talked things out before picking up the guns…” She sighed. “I need to tell Agnate this, so she will free Master, and we could deal with it together.”

“Like a big happy family, right?” The sarcasm in her voice was intoxicating.

The mare took the paper, pushing herself towards the exit when the back of her neck felt a sudden surge of excruciating pain. Her sight went black and her body grew heavy. She didn’t even sense her hitting the floor before she passed out.