In the Wagon of a Traveling Show

by Trooper

Rating: everyone
Tags: Princess Luna, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Original Character, Slice of Life, Fallout
Length: 8566

Lil' Shelta is a filly traveling with a Gypsy Caravan between towns in the Wastelands. She learns about her bands history and tries to get her cutie mark.

Lil Shelta is a young filly traveling with her family on a gypsy pony caravan as they travel between one town to the next. She listens to the stories from her elders, including the tale of how her band was blessed by Luna herself and is the only gypsy caravan who is allowed to travel at night. During this time she tries to find what her special talent is, so she can get her cutie mark too. Maybe her new friend the white mare, that no one else can seem to see can help her?

Published 2019-10-29 03:00:01 UTC
Last updated 2019-10-29 03:00:01 UTC

In the Wagon of a Traveling Show

In the Wagon of a Traveling Show

I am awakened by a sharp jar as our wagon hits a deep cross rut at the crossroads. I hear my papa call back, “Is everyting ok back there, sorry but it was a hard one.”

My mother calls back, “Yes dear, we are fine. Noting fell this time”

I smile up at my mother, “Hi momma, are we almost at the next campsite yet?”

I notice the wagon teams are not running so I am not scared this time. We have been chased before. Not always by raiders or slavers either.

“Not yet lil’ Shelta, not yet. The bandolier wants to go until after dark tonight. He wants to put some distance between us an that last band of raiders.” She tells me as she adjusts the pistol in her holster that she wears when we are traveling. When we are in camp, she keeps it hidden under her dress. She does not carry it at all when she is dancing but instead wears a knife, she keeps well hidden.

Behind us, I hear the tinkerer's wagon hit the same rut. I hear the crash of the tinware as it bangs together in his wagon. I look back and see the four large gypsy ponies pulling it. They are all cousins of mine, as are most of the ponies in our caravan.

As we continue down the trail, I get out of my bunk and put my dress on. It fits tight at the midsection. The shoulders and bottom of the skirt have a white ruffle that contrast with its bright red base color. I sit down in front of the mirror and my mother comes over and begins to comb, then braid my dark black mane. I love how well it matches the black splotches of my coat and contrasts with the white so well.

I also see my mother in the mirror. She looks so old, at least twenty-five I would guess. She has the same black splotches on her white coat I do, but her mane and tail are a mixture of black and yellow. Like me, she too is a unicorn. I cannot help but stare at the jewelry she is wearing, the silver bracelets, the gold necklace, and earrings. She looks so pretty in her light blue and white dress. In her mane, she has a dark blue ribbon woven.

It is the times like this, where it is just me and her that I enjoy so much. Although I did hear her tell Papa last night that she thinks she may be giving him another foal. I wonder where they will get it?

“Mom, what do you think my cutie mark will be?”

“My little Shelta, do not rush it. It will come in time. But I would not be surprised at anything with you. Even that of a storyteller perhaps.”

“Aww mom, I was not making it up. I really did see that pony. Jus’ cause nopony else did doesn’t mean I didn’t.” I almost whine back.

“I did not say you were making it up. But if you were, you have the makings of a fine storyteller. Perhaps when we stop, we can have Past Tales tell us another one so you can learn them and see how to tell them for money too.”

“Ohh, ok momma. Mom where is our next town?”

“That is another thing you need to learn little one, the route we travel with our caravan, that and which areas to avoid. Remember never go to Fillydelphia. The slave market there is very active and they would just as soon enslave one of us as look at us.”

I feel hurt when she says this and asks, “But momma, why would anypony not like us?”

“Well dear, it is because we are different. Not only different, but in so many ways, and ponies often are afraid of those that are different.”

“But what makes us so different,” I ask.

She sighs deeply, “I was afraid you would ask that someday. But the story begins long ago…”

I listen intently as my mother tells me one of my favorite stories.

OOOOOOOOOO

The story of the Gypsy pony goes back long before the princesses, or even Equestria. The great creator, in some lands she is known as Sweet Cream, had been busy creating life. She created the basic creatures first. The animals such as snakes, birds, and dogs. Then she began to work on the more intelligent creatures.

First, she created the dragons. But while intelligent, they often could be cruel to each other and seemed to lack humor. They did not seem to enjoy life as much as she hoped that gift would be enjoyed.

Next, she created the Griffon, they seemed to enjoy life a bit more, but they found a love for value of possessions, not for others. This saddened her, so she created the ponies next.

The ponies she decided needed to be of different types. This would help them see the beauty in being different as well as the value of each other. But instead, they fought amongst each other. They became greedy and thought they were better than the others type of ponies, much less the other creatures.

At this point, she was starting to become saddened. So, she went to another part of the world of Equus and instead of ponies, she created the zebras. At first, the Zebra thrived. They spread across a large portion of Equus. They welcomed others and valued knowledge and lived in harmony with the spirits of Equus. But eventually, they too began to change. They eventually spread enough to come in contact with the ponies, who had also explored and spread from their homeland. At this time, they often intermarried. The ponies and zebra could still have foals together on a regular basis back then.

Then the zebra tribes began to become more like the ponies. They split their tribes. After all how can you be the same as me if your stripes are pointed around your face, while mine avoid it? Or your stirpes only go halfway around your body instead of circling it as mine? They let the petty differences divide them.

Some say Discord had a hoof in this, others say it was all their own problem. Whatever it was Sweet Cream put her hoof down. Since that time when Pony and Zebra have a child, that child has not been able to produce children of its own, except in the most exceptional cases, where Sweet Cream or some other spirit has intervened and allows them to.

It is from these special unions that were blessed by the Creator that we, the Gypsy ponies were descended. We have the form of the pony, but instead of stripes, we have our splotches. But like the zebra, and unlike the pony, we still know about, and in some cases, can still communicate with the sprits. The best of us can communicate with the spirits of the stars, but woe behold the mortal who does such a thing. It will not end well for them. The stars go on forever and never forget.

With this in mind, Sweet Cream set the Gypsy ponies on a dysphoria around Equus. We entertain when we can, we provide services as needed. Some of us also speak to the spirits and use their knowledge to guide those without it. But even though they may say they hate us in Celestia’s daylight, under Luna’s moon they will visit our camps and act as our friends. That is our purpose. To help bring order and happiness to the world. Over the centuries we have been persecuted but as spread out as we are, the Gypsy Ponies will survive and continue to do the work that Sweet Cream set out for us.

The reason we are loved during Luna’s night and not under Celestia’s sun, now that is a story for another time.

OOOOOOOOOO

“Thank you, momma, for telling me that story again. It is one of my favorites.” I tell her and she kisses me on my forelock as she finishes my mane.

“My pleasure my little one. Tonight, our camp should not be close to a town, so we may have more time for stories. Perhaps we can get even get Past Tale to tell us the story of how our band survived the Fall, or even how we assisted the Children of the Night and were granted Luna’s blessings.”

“Do you think so, mom? I never heard that one before.”

“Yes dear, I do believe so. But it also depends upon what the bandolier says. He may only decide to stop to rest the teams. While most of us stand guard tonight. So be patient and understand.”

“Ok, momma, what about the deer, the buffalo, and the brahmin? Where do they fit in the story? Did Sweet Cream create them too, or did the Goddesses?”

My mother smiles at me. “Dear, that is a question for Past Tales or his mother. They could answer that much better than I. but understand where our pony’s go, we adopt the religion of those there.”

“Why is that momma?”

“Because we were told to by the baro daya or king. It helps prevent the locals from becoming more hateful of us for not believing as they do.”

“Momma, who is the baro daya?”

“So many questions little one. The baro daya is the leader of all the gypsy ponies in our nation. He does not rule over a land, but our people. He is elected by the elders of several tribes. If we begin to be persecuted unfairly, he will find a way to let us know and we will avoid doing business with that area. If he finds an area that welcomes us, then he will let us know that as well. You will know him if you see the bandolier get down and bow to him. However, as you will learn as you grow up, all good bucks are guided and advised by an even better mare. The baro dayo, well he is advised by the Phuri Dae.”

“Momma, there is somepony more important that our bandolier?”

She smiles, “To most ponies, yes. But to us, yes and no.” She pauses briefly, “Most of the time, no, but if the king is around, then, yes. I have never seen him and rumor has it he was last seen by Caledonia, several years before I was born.”

“Oh, that was a long time ago then. Was that before the Goddesses too?”

My mother puts a hoof to her mouth to stifle her laugh, “Young mare, while it was a while ago, it was not that long ago. I will have you know I am on twenty-three, I am not that old.”

“That is old to me,” I tell her with wide eyes.

“Believe me, dear, it is not.” Then she whispers, “Your papa is older than me even.”

“Whoa, really momma?”

“Yes dear, now enough of our chit chat, it is getting dark I need to close the curtains and light a lantern so we can see. Then I will need you to assist me in getting supper ready so we can cook it once we stop.” She tells me with a serious expression on her face that lets me know that it is time for me to help and not talk.

As I am opening up some canned vegetables, we had found I ask her, “Momma, why do we have to wait to stop before cooking. Why not just use the woodstove?”

“Now that young mare is a good question. We could use it, but if something were to happen and we had to run for it, then the wood stove would become a hazard instead. If something flammable were to land on it, or if the door bounced open and the coals came out it could start a fire. Or even worse if it was very hot and we bounced against it we could get burned.”

“Is that what happened to Tripod?” I ask, referring to the three-legged stallion who ran a tent of different games of chance. He has a wooden leg that he uses when we are among the gadjo, or non-gypsy ponies, but I have heard him complain that it is uncomfortable and he does not like to use it.

She nods her head, “Yes and no again dear. He did get badly burned by it, but the reason he lost his leg was that it got infected badly. He almost died from it, so it had to be cut off.

“Ah, ok, that makes sense momma,” I tell her then I get back to my work.

OOOOOOOOOO

The sun has gone down two hours earlier, not that we can see it, but instead of the clouds keeping things somewhat dim, the sky becomes completely dark. The caravan pulls off the road and out of sight of the road. We form the vardo or wagons into a circle for the night. Each wagon will have somepony on guard all night long. The teams and drivers will eat their dinners and then sleep.

We do so many things differently when we camp far from a town than when we camp close to a settlement. Of course, then we are more worried about doing business than just defending ourselves.

Tonight, the fires are lite inside the woodstoves of the vardos, it is warm enough though that we will be sleeping under them rather than in them, just in case of trouble. Soon I begin to smell the food cook, my cousins who pull our wagon will get fed out of it. We have been doing this since I can first remember.

After they remove their harness and hang it at the front of our wagon they and Papa come to the back of the wagon. Even in the dark, I can tell poppa from them. My cousins that are with him, they are all much taller and broader across their chest. That and I can see Papa already has his hat on already. The others will put theirs on as well as their vests after they clean up some.

When they get to me Papa sits and puts his front hooves out. “How’s my lil’ Shelta tonight?”

I jump into his hooves. “I’m good Papa. Just ask Momma.” I tell him as I put my head against his chest and bury my muzzle in his chest fur. I feel him kiss me on my forelock and his mustache tickles my ears.

“That’s my good girl. Did you hear anything more from your invisible friend, the mare today?”

“No Papa, I did not. Today Momma told me the story of how the gypsy ponies came to be again. I really like it.”

“Yes, it is a good one, I like that one too. After supper, perhaps we can get Past Tales to tell us all another story. Oh, after dinner tonight, would you look for my fiddle, I feel like practicing a bit.”

I give him another big hug, “Ok Papa, can you teach me to play it someday?”

He smiles, “But of course my lil one. Of course, but now, go help you, mother, while me and your cousins get the table out.” He tells me as he lightly taps my shoulder with a forehoof and points with the other one to the door of the wagon.

I go inside and get the plates ready and bring them out as Papa and them remove the folding table from beneath our Vardo, where it hangs when not being used. Once the table is set up, I put a plate down for each of us. Momma brings out the stew I helped her make.

She has used just the right amount of spices in it this time. I am so glad when we were Hoofington last time our tinker was able to scrounge an old canning plant and found not only material for him, but several cases of tomato sauce as well as mixed vegetables. With all of it mixed together I do not mind the taste of the wild game that is in it. While I don’t really like the taste of meat, momma says I have to eat it to grow up big and strong. I am not sure about that, but she said it, and I know better than not to listen to her. One time I tried to say no. She only said, “Fine, there are kids starving throughout the wastelands who would be happy to have it.” Then I watched as she went to a random gadjo from the village, and offered them my meal, which they ate with great gusto and were very thankful for.

After dinner I help to clean up the mess with Momma, then I find Papa’s fiddle and take it to him. I watch as he adjusts the strings and puts some rosin that we had found on the bow. He shows me where to put my hoofs on its neck and strings as well as how to hold the bow. Papa’s an earth pony so he shows me how to do it that way, rather than using my horn.

As he warms up, I see many of the others come over to listen. He plays several songs for us and then the adults begin to show the few colts and fillies with the caravan how to dance, letting us try our hooves at it. I have to say I do enjoy dancing, but I am not as smooth at it as Momma or Bulerias our caravan’s other main dancer.

They look so beautiful as the spin and dance on their back hooves, clapping their front hooves. As they dance, they are joined by Papa as he dances and fiddles. I watch as his vest twirls open like their dresses. Then and I see one of the colts, Floor Craft step out and join them. I am stunned. I had no idea he could dance so well. He moves next to my mother and swirls on his hind legs behind and around Bulerias. I am mesmerized as I watch him perform with the mares and father.

As father finishes playing the song he steps forward and bows low to all of us. That is when it happens. The darkness is broken by a bright flash of light. While we cannot see well, we all know that he has just gotten his cutie mark.

His mother brings a lantern over and examines his flank. “My son, be proud, it is a nice one,” She tells him. As she steps back, I see the silhouettes of two ponies dancing back to back on their hind legs.

I approach him I look at his mark then his face, “Floor Craft, I had no idea you could dance so well.”

He smiles back at me, “Neither did I, I mean I have practiced some in the vardo while we were moving from settlement to settlement, but I did not know I was that good.”

“Well, you are. Congratulations on getting your cutie mark.” I tell him and give him a hug.

“Thank you, Shelta, I really appreciate it. Soon you will have yours too, I am sure of it.” He tells me as he hugs me back.

I try to smile at that, “I know, momma keeps telling me to be patient, but it seems so long of a wait. What if I never get it?”

“You will Shelta, you will. Remember I am two years older than you are, I have waited longer then you have, and even I was surprised,” he says with a smile.

From behind me, I hear momma call me, “Shelta, Past Tales is getting ready to tell another story, would you like to hear it?”

“Coming momma,” I call back to her, then I look at my friend, “Do you want to hear it too?”

He nods and we skip over to the adults our tails holding each other.

OOOOOOOOOO

As we colts and fillies lay down by the fire in front of Past Tales, many of the adults either sit down or also lay by the fire to hear the tale. I am very excited as I love hearing stories, and Past Tales, tells the best ones.

As he sits by the fire, he looks at us all He rubs a hoof under his chin, “Now my ponies, what type of story shall I tell tonight? Shall we go with love and romance?” He pauses, “no, not tonight, Adventure maybe?” then he shakes his head, “No, well maybe some adventure, but more of a tale of our past perhaps?” He looks at us judging our reactions and then nods, “Yes, such story it shall be. But my colts and fillies, it is not a story for you to repeat to the gadjo, this story is just for us, particularly of our band.”

I look around and notice several of the ponies leaning forward, their forehooves under their chins nodding as he speaks. He has everyone’s attention. Even I sit in anticipation, then I notice beyond his shoulder, the figure or a mare. She looks at me and nods. I then watch as she sits to listen also. I dare not say anything, as if it is a spirit it is one thing, but if it is a Mulo or ghost, then it would make us unclean and we would have to perform a purification ceremony and I want to hear the story so badly.

I then look back to Past Tales who is looking at me quizzically and then glances over his shoulder as he continues. “This then will be the story of how our band was blessed by Luna and why we have her permission to move at night, while the other gypsy bands do not.”

oOoOoOoOoOo

It was a long time ago, before the great fall, but after Luna had returned from the moon. Our caravan had made it all the way to Manesville and was returning to our winter meeting grounds with the rest of our tribe by Caledonia. It had been a good year and the ponies were happy. Well at least most of them. However, there were some it seems who were outcast, unwanted. These ones, now these ones needed some help, but no pony seemed to notice or care about them.

The caravan’s bandolier at the time was Khulai. By this time Khulai had been chief for the caravan for many years. In fact, his grand foals, if he had any would have been about the age of our young ones here tonight. Now, Khulai was known for being polite and always helping those who needed it. He would go out of his way to make those of the family comfortable as much as possible, as long as it did not hurt the family or endanger its members. The gadjo would call him a gentlecolt. But to us, well he was a good and loved leader of our band.

Most times we look out for ourselves, and that has long helped us to survive. But late one-night Khulai, was walking back to the caravan from town. It is there that he found a young unicorn foal who was crying. The foal was skinny and filthy. He was all alone.

Khulai was moved in his heart seeing this young foal like this and stopped, “Young child, what are you doing out here like this? Why are you crying?”

The foal looks up and pulls his ragged blanket tighter on himself. He looks down and with tears in his eyes, sniffles, and answers, “I have nowhere else to go. The orphanage is full and nopony wants me.”

“What do you mean nopony wants you, What about your family?” He asks as he lifts the colts head gently with a hoof under his chin.

The colt sniffles again, “My father was killed in the war. My, my mommy, she was killed in the factory she was working in. No pony knows where my grampy and grammy are. I am so lonely and hungry.”

“Shhh, Shhh, it is alright lil’ one, I will help you if you want it,” Khulai tells him as he hugs him. As he says this the colt nods his head yes.

Now the thing is, Khulai and his wife, did not have any foals. For some reason, they were not blessed to have them. This foal needed a home, and though he was gadjo, and therefore unclean, but he also knew the pain of being rejected by others, particularly those same gadjo. It was then he made a most important decision, this foal would come with him and become a son to him if he so wanted.

“My name is Khulai, what is your name little one?”

Choking back tears, he answers “Futures Past, sir.”

“Well Futures, if you want then you can come and live with me, my wife and our family. Would you like that little one?”

With a final sniffle, Futures past nods his head, “Do you really mean it? You would want me?”

“Yes, little one, I would, come with me to the caravan then and we will get you cleaned up, something to eat and a warm bed.”

The foal starts to follow him and then stops. “I’m sorry Khulai, but I can’t. I can’t leave the others.”

Khulai then stops too and turns to Futures Past, “Lil one, what do you mean the others?”

“There are six of us, there is Cinders, Fancy Feet, Tin Can, Right Wheel and Left Wheel. We, we are all unwanted and we help each other, well normally. Tonight, I got mad at Fancy and that is why I was here instead of in our ally.”

“Do you mean you are all orphans?” Kulai asks.

Futures nods his head and begins to cry again. “I want to go with you, but I can’t leave them.”

Khulai, ponders this for a moment. “Would you take me to them. Perhaps we can find something that would be agreeable to all of them too.”

With that Futures lead him through the dark of the city of Baltimare. After traveling several city blocks they came to an alleyway next to a cannery. There were several boxes there all close together, as well as some trash dumpsters for the factory.

Futures Past stops here and Khulai asks, “Is this where you live with your friends lil’one?”

Futures nods, “Yes sir, I am sorry it is so disappointing to you, but we keep getting driven off from other places, besides we can get some food here.”

“They give you food? I am surprised seeing how they have you living.”

“No sir, sometimes we are able to dig into the dumpsters and get food that is not too rotten from it. It's not much, but it beats having an empty stomach.”

Khulai finds himself almost breaking down in tears for these foals. Sure, they are gadjo, but they are still ponies. No foals should have to live this way he thinks to himself.

“Futures, would you please wake them up so I can talk to them?”

He does not move, instead, Khulai watches as first two larger, stocky earth pony colts step out and stand between him and the rest. Behind them, he watches as another earth pony colt comes out followed by a unicorn and an earth pony filly.

Then one of the larger colts ask, “What do you want old stallion, you here to drive us off too. Futures what’s wrong with you bringing an adult here?’

“Right Wheel, everypony, please, don’t be mad at me again. This is Khulai, he says he wants to help us.”

“Yeah right, that is what all grown-ups say. But then they burn our boxes and drives us into the cold again.” The one that Khulai assumes is Left Wheel says.

At that time, Khulai is tired. His heart is weary from not only a long day but from what he has seen the world has done to these foals. He turns, but says as he does so, “I am sorry for bothering you, I wanted to help you to find your families, and if we are not able to, then to offer you a home with my caravan.”

It is then he hears one of the fillies call out, “Stop, please, did you really mean that?”

He turns back, “Yes little ones, I do mean that. No pony should have to live like this, I only want to help all of you.”

It is then that these youths realize that Khulai means what he says. They grab what few belongings they have and follow him back to his camp.

When they arrive, it is late enough that all of the Gadjo have already returned home for the night. These children, they are different somehow, for they do not feel the need to sleep at night, but instead during the day. That first night Khulai takes them to his Vardo and tells his wife Gildi, or Lilly in ponish.

At first, she is overjoyed at having young ones to raise, she then she is confused when then she thinks they are gadjo and therefore Mahrim, unclean. She then begins to protest, but Khulai will have none of it.

“Gildi, they are but children, unwanted, uncared for. They may be of gadjo blood, but they too know the sting that the Rom feel in their souls. They know how it feels to be treated so. We can, and should help them.”

“But Khulai, what will the others say? What will the Durriken say?” Durriken being able to foretell what shall happen.

He lightly laughs, “What can they say, I am the Bandolier. As for Durriken, perhaps we should listen to what he has to say, he may surprise us.”

It is then that they hear a knock on the door of the vardo. Khulai answers it and finds Durriken is at their door. He looks at the black and white pony, with his black but graying mane and tail. He watches as Durriken adjusts his hat and then brushes his mustache, “May I come in Khulai?’

“Yes, yes, please do,” Khulai tells him.

“Ah, so the foals are here as I was told.” He says as he looks upon the sleeping foals. “Come morning, we will need to talk with the others, but first Gildi in the morning we need to clean them up. They will be part of the future of our band. We must make them family.”

“Thank you Durriken, I appreciate your coming and letting us know. But let us step outside so we do not wake the children,” Khulai tells him.

Once outside Durriken looks him in the eyes. “Khulai, this will bring trouble upon us. However, be patient and hopeful. In the end, we all will benefit much more than we ever imagined. There is great danger coming and these youngsters will be part of what saves us.”

“But I am not trying to cause trouble. I only want to help these foals who have nopony else.”

“I know, I do understand that.” He pauses as if listening to someone else. “When the trouble comes, ask that the matter be determined by Princess Luna. That is all I can say for now. Please go get some sleep now, you have foals, and a great many of them to take care of. Also know that when the band questions you about it, I will be beside you.”

“Again, I thank you Durriken, my friend. I do appreciate it.”

“Do not thank me, I am only doing what is right, as you have been led down this path to do what is right also.” With that Durriken nods his head, and bids farewell leaving Khulai to stand in the dark thinking about the future to come.

The next morning Gilda got the children up. First, she made them all breakfast, then she prepared a bath for all of them. For they were truly filthy.

As she is washing Fancy Feet she asks “Lil’ one, how long has it been since you had a bath?”

“Ma'am, I don’t remember. We clean up when it rains or we swim in the river. But other than that, I don’t know.”

“It is as I was afraid then. Well for now on, we all get regular baths.” It is while she is helping to dry off the white unicorn filly with the brown mane and tail that she notices a small black spot on her coat near her shoulder. Well now, maybe she has some Rom blood in her after all.

Once the foals are all cleaned and have their manes brushed. We can see what they truly look like. Right, and Left Wheel, are both big for their ages and it turns out are twin brothers. They both have reddish-brown coats, with Left having a black mane and tail. Right’s mane is black but his tail is brown.

Tin Can Surprises them as when they clean him up, he goes from a muddy brown to a bright white coat. He has dark gray around each of his legs just above his hoofs. His mane and tail are black with light green and light blue streaks in them.

Then it is the youngest one, Cinders turn. When she is washed, she comes out a beautiful dark red, with black legs up to her knees. Her muzzle is black as are her ear tips, mane, and tail. She begins to giggle when Gilda begins to braid her mane and holds her pony doll tight.

Finally, Future Past takes his turn. Future takes his bath quietly and as his coat becomes cleaner it begins to shine. It is a dark charcoal. His mane is midnight black as is his tail. He has a large white patch on his chest as well as a white muzzle and star on his forehead.

All of them stare at each other once they are clean. It seems they have never seen each other like this. They each joined the group after they had been rejected and had already lived on the streets for some time.

“Now, my children, it is time to introduce you to the rest of the band. Please follow me and Gildi.”

He then called a meeting of all of the band. To say the least, they were stunned. Some protested on the grounds that they were not Romani. Others because of what the locals would think. As they protested Khulai stood fast and countered them. His biggest argument being “Do you forget that I am the Bandolier. I was elected for life by this very band. I am in charge, and I will always lookout for the best of our band. Besides, what would our creator truly want us to do in this situation?”

His friend Durikken stood fast beside him. “I have seen it. These foals will help ensure the survival of our band. Both directly and indirectly. There are bad times coming and we will need new blood in our lines. There is coming a time when the bands will no longer regularly see other bands of their tribes much less other tribes of the nations.”

This made several of them gasp. Others became nervous. There had not been predictions like this made since the dysphoria that lead our tribes to split and wander the earth.

The other finally relented and agreed to welcome the foals as part of the band. For several days all was well, then one night one of the workers from the cannery recognized one of the foals while visiting the bands camp and partaking in our world.

He was angered that he had lost money in a game of chance, and he sought vengeance against the band. So, he grabbed the little mare Cinders and was taking her away so he could report to the local constables that he had saved her from being kidnapped by the gypsy thieves.

As he grabbed her little Cinders began to cry out for her new family “Papa Khulai, Momma Gildi, Uncle Durikken, HELP! HE IS TAKING ME!”

That cry for help brought the entire band running. They had him surrounded. But others of the gadjo took his word for it instead and called the police.

When the police arrived, they too accused Khulai and the band of kidnapping the foals. And were going to arrest them all.

It was at this point that Khulai stepped forward to the Police, “It is I who brought the foals here. I am responsible. They were homeless, orphaned. We, I took them in. If you must arrest anypony let it be me. However, understand, I want this case to go before Princess Luna.”

They all scoffed at this. But the police only arrested Khulai. The foals were taken away to a local orphanage. While they had not been with the band long, the ties of family had already begun to build between the two groups, and both missed the others.

The band stayed camped there and some of the ponies took jobs on local farms to help support them. After several weeks the case was to go to trial. However, as Khulai was being taken to the courthouse from the jail, several of the local ponies began to protest and nearly riot, demanding that the bandolier be punished immediately for his actions. They continued this the entire day that Khulai was in court. Finally, as he was being ready to be taken back to the jail for the night, some of the protestors began to burn an effigy of our poor bandolier and demand that he be hanged.

It was then that she showed herself. When she walked outside the courthouse. No pony outside the courtroom had known she was there. She had heard the evidence as well as the testimony of the witnesses, and the foals themselves.

The loud yelling and chanting went silent as the dark blue alicorn walked outside followed by a squad of imperial guards. Then she began to speak. Her voice full of anger. “You, you call yourselves my subjects yet you act like a crazed herd of animals. You do not have all of the facts and yet you rush to judgment upon the word of one angry and foolish pony. I am ashamed of you all for such behavior. I thought my sister and I had taught you better. You are trying to force my hoof, Mine, of all ponies. I will not tolerate it. Now go home, leave the decision to me and understand justice will be served, and I mean it will be justice.

Now, these ponies did all leave, however many of them did not realize what she meant. They thought she would punish the bandolier. Instead, she went back inside and ordered his release, as well as the return of the foals to his custody.

When Khulai heard her say this he had tears in his eyes, as he kneeled before her. “Thank you, your majesty, I will make sure these foals are taken well care of.”

She smiled at him, “I know, I have seen yours and their dreams, as well as that of the rest of your bands.” She pauses and continues with a tear in her eye and sadness to her voice, “It reminds me of a time long ago when I too tried to help a group of orphans. I was also accused of kidnapping them and then unjustly punished. When I heard your request and then your story I had to help.”

“I had not heard of that your majesty, please forgive this humble pony for his ignorance.”

“Khulai, there is nothing to forgive. But you will need to leave soon, while most will follow my orders, I am afraid that some may attempt to take matters in their own hoofs. I will send an escort with you.”

“Thank you, your majesty, but I cannot leave yet. Please understand that while we normally work at night and I do not want to disobey you, those of us of the Rom are forbidden to travel at night.”

She smiles sadly at first then a glint of light reaches her eyes. “Ah, but now you and your band will have my blessings to travel at night as needed. I only ask two things. One that above the doors and windows of your wagons you place a crescent moon like my cutie mark. The second is that you have tea available to me at night. The nights can be very tiresome and lonely and I would like to have somepony who understands. Now go Khulai, and when we are alone, please call my Luna, as you would a friend, after all, we both have taken in orphans and you have made me remember again the pleasant aspects of my children of the night. Now go and I will see you and your foals again.”

With that, he left and returned to the caravan. Every pony was surprised to hear him order them to move at night. They at first were afraid then they see the royal guards that would escort them. That was the first time we had ever seen the batponies, and while it has been many, many moons we still look for them and every night we have tea ready to be put on, just in case Luna chooses to visit our bandolier.

oOoOoOoOoOo

As he finishes the story, I see one of the other young ponies raise their hoof up for attention and asks, “But what about the moons that we now have over the doors and window of our vardos? Where did those come from?

Past Tales smiles, “Ah, my little ponies, the originals were created by Tin Can, that is how he got his cutie mark, many of those originals still are with us.”

Craft Step then ask, “what about the others, how did they get their cutie marks?”

Again, Past tales smiles, “A very good question young one, but those are all tales for another time.”

It is then that momma shoos me into our vardo, “Time for bed lil Shelta.

‘Ok, Momma, do you think we might see Princess Luna tonight?”

“Perhaps, but sadly only in your dreams if you do little one, only in your dreams, now sleep well.” She tells me as she tucks me into my bunk and kisses me on my forelock. I then grab my stuffed pony and cuddle up to it as I fall asleep.

In the morning I awake and Mama and I make breakfast for our vardo. After cleaning up the bandolier takes us on the trail once again. It takes us two days until we reach our next settlement. During this time, we maintained our normal traveling schedule.

On the third day as we approach New Appleloosa I awake my friend the white mare is next to me. She puts a hoof to her lips. And for the first time in several days speaks to me again. “Shhhh, my friend. I have something to tell you and you need to share it with your parents and bandolier.”

I nod my head in understanding. Then my friend continues. “Tell them there is danger, do not stop for more than one day here. Raiders are coming.”

I nod my head trying to understand how my friend knew this. Then I hear my momma starting to wake up.

“Shelta, are you talking to somepony? Is everything ok.” As momma begins to sit up, I see my friend just disappears and all I see is a little round ball of light that floats out the open window.

“Yes Momma, my friend was here. She says we are to only spend one night here as raiders are coming.”

She looks at me with a stern expression on her face, “Lil Shelta, how many times have I told you not to make up stories.”

“But I am not Momma, she said I was to tell you, Papa and the bandolier.”

“And where is this friend of yours lil one? Why can I not see her?” she asks me.

“Momma, when you started to get up, she turned into a small ball of light and floated out the window.”

“Shelta, what have a told you about lying?”

“But Momma, I am not lying. It’s the truth.” I tell her with tears in my eyes.

“Well then we will have you tell them and the Baba Second Sight, she will be able to tell if you have seen the spirts. If she says you making stories, you will have to be punished my young mare.”

“I know Momma, but I am not making up stories. I would not try to pull the washrag over your eyes.”

“We will see little one.”

When we stop outside New Appleloosa it is three hours before dark. We then set up the camp for business. Several of the vardos pull out canvas tents that are attached to them as rooms for business. The signs are put out. While we are doing this the Bandolier goes into town and talks with the local authorities. Who grudgingly give him permission, and acknowledge that at least he has set up north of town in the visiting caravans camp area. But this is not the first, nor the last time our caravan will make this stop.

When he arrives back, Momma has Papa take us to see him and Baba Sight.

Papa approaches him, “Phuro Gilded Star, my wife has brought it to my attention that my daughter needs to talk to you and our Drabarni, Baba Sight. She says she has a message for us that is very important.”

I can see that at first our bandolier is irritated that we have interrupted him, then I see curiosity on his face. “For me and the Drabarni eh?” Ok, let's go to her vardo, she is still getting ready for tonight.”

We follow him over to her wagon. Once there he asks for permission to enter and when she gives it we all enter. It is not the first time I have been in her tent, but it is the first time I am going to address her with a message. I look at her sitting down in her chair behind her table. She is just finishing laying out some tarot cards at the time.

She looks up at us, then she sees me and smiles. “Ah, I have wondered. What can I do for you?”

“Excuse us Baba Sight, but I am to understand that lil’ Shelta has an important message for us.”

“Interesting, what is the message little one?” she asks as she looks down at me.

“We are not to stay here more than one night this time,” I tell them.

“And why is that?” she asks me.

“Cause raiders are on the way here.”

Our bandolier then asks me, “And who told you to give me this message?”

I look at the ground moving one of my hoofs back and forth on its tip when I answer. “My friend the white mare did.”

Baba Sight than asks me, “A white mare eh? Where were you when she told you? Did your mother or father see her?”

I continue to look down. “We were in the back of the vardo. I was the only one to see her.”

She looks at me with a hoof under her chin. “and what happened to her, so that your mother and father did not see her too. Did she jump off the wagon? Did she fly away?”

I look up some, my nose still pointed down. “No, she changed into a little ball of light and floated out the window after Momma woke up.”

I see her nod. Then she flips a card over and nods again. “Yes, Yes, I believe you little one.” She then looks at my parents, “How long has she been seeing this mare?”

“Only for a few weeks,” my mother tells her looking down now.

“And you are just bringing her to me know, why not before. You know we watch for those with the sight.”

My mother lets out a deep sigh, “Because I wanted to be sure first. I had hoped she could dance like me or fiddle like her father. I am sorry Baba Sight.”

Baba Sight continues to flip cards over. She looks at the bandolier, “The cards have confirmed what she says, we need to leave in the morning. Be a good boy and warn the gadjo sheriff of why we are leaving. If he listens then very good, if not, we tried.”

The bandolier looks at her and nods. “I will do that, in fact after the gadjo leave tonight we will pack up so we can leave early. Anything else that you want me to do?”

She looks at him, then my parents and finally me. I watch her use her magic to gather the cards. She lays three cards face down before me. She then points to the three piles, she begins, “these three cards represent the past, the…”

And I continue for her looking over the edge, “The present and future.”

I turn the cards over and perform my first reading, for myself. It is then that I see a bright flash and I hear my parents gasp. I look down at my flank and I see three tarot cards with their backs showing. Though I cannot see her, I hear my friend the mare voice as she tells me what it means.

My mother looks at Baba sight, “What does it mean, they show only the backs?”

As Baba Sight smiles, I reply, “Momma, it means that the cards can change as the future has yet to be revealed.”

I hear Baba Sight laugh lightly, “Yes lil’ one, you are correct. And starting tonight, you will be my apprentice, I have so much to teach you.”

She looks at my parents and smiles, “I will bring her back to your vardo after we are done tonight. Thank you for bringing her to me. Gilded Star remember, let the gadjo know before we leave. Now we have work to begin and caps to make.”

Then she uses her magic to move another chair next to her and indicates for me to sit beside her as the others leave me to the first night of my apprenticeship and my future.

Author's Note

I hope you have enjoyed this story and the gypsy ponies in it. The story takes place about 35 years before the events of Fallout Equestria. The main character Lil' Shelta, can be seen again as an adult in Fallout Equestria: Borderlands when she is then known as Mama Shelta and is seen plying her trade as an adult.

Luna and her children of the night mentioned in Past Tales story are based upon the animation that can be found on Youtube at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jW5n3k2VgZE&t=3s