Fallout Equestria: Invicta

Chapters

Chapter 2: Into The Flames
Chapter 3: Children of the Wasteland
Chapter 4: Something’s Off in Ophir...
Chapter 5: A Rose By Any Other Name
Chapter 6: The Heart of Ophir
Chapter 7: One Short Day...
Chapter 8: The Rose Revolution
Chapter 10: Silverhoof
Chapter 11: Okay… But What’s Ice Cream?
Chapter 1: From The Forge
Chapter 9: The Rose Revelation

Chapter 2: Into The Flames

Chapter 2: Into The Flames

“I survived because the fire inside burned brighter than the fire around me.”
- Joshua Graham, The Burned Man

“Hey, Stormy... Wake up,” a mare’s voice cooed.

It was dark. The sky was populated with gray clouds with just the smallest gaps that let trickles of moonlight through. In the distance we could see rows of white houses with black lattice, their faded paint reflecting the glow of several fires and lanterns.

I was lying in the front of a wagon that my father was pulling, curled up to the warmth of my mother beside me. We had been travelling all day and I must have passed out from exhaustion. I looked up into her eyes.

“Are we here?” I asked.

Evergreen Sky smiled-- an easy smile that always made me feel safe, and I saw her milky eyes sparkle, even in the dead of night. “We are,” she said as she looked towards the glow in the distance. “Silverhoof.”

My excitement grew as we reached the outskirts of town-- this was it! I was finally going to see my home! Perhaps we would finally settle down in a nice place for a while… I could make friends! And maybe I’d find something that would spark a memory of what life was like before the Wasteland…

But, of course, that’s not what happened.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I couldn’t see, and my head was throbbing worse than it ever had. It felt as if Celestia herself had been sitting on it for a century, or like somepony had used it for batting practice. My guess was that the latter option was closer to the truth. I had worried for a moment that I may have actually been blinded, but I could feel the rough fabric wrapped around my head as I flexed my jaw.

I discovered that the benefit of being blind with a splitting migraine was that my hearing was spectacular at the moment! ...Too spectacular. Every creak and groan of the wagon was obnoxious, and every so often we’d hit a large bump that would knock my head into something hard, causing another wave of splitting pain to cascade through my skull.

Beyond the groaning, rattling wagon, I heard two ponies in the middle of a conversation outside, and I listened as a gruff, older-sounding stallion spoke.

“--is pissed that he lost property because of that thing.”

“Yeah,” replied a younger colt, “but he said he had a special place for him.”

“Probably going to sell him off in Emerald City. Those Society ponies have a fuckton of caps.”

Emerald City? That sounds… oddly nice. Despite my current situation, I couldn’t help but imagine what such a place would be like. Was it a land filled with emeralds? Or was the city made of emeralds!? Perhaps there were great buildings with tall spires made entirely out of emerald and the whole city shone green! I shook my head, and was rewarded by a burst of pain between my temples.

Ow. Okay, no more shaking the head...

I tried to move my legs, but it seemed they were chained down. I tried flexing my wings, but there seemed to be something wrapped around my body that kept them from fully extending. I couldn’t feel the weight of my barding, and I was sure they took my weapons off me as well. But…

I flexed my wings again.

I still had my wing blades. Either my captors didn’t expect the ridge guards to have a cutting edge, or they didn’t notice them with my wings tucked in.

Hmm… I stopped and listened for a moment. It sounded like all the slavers were trotting alongside the wagon as it rolled noisily down the rough road. The inside was relatively quiet, barring the obnoxious creaking and rattling. If there was a guard pony in here, he was either asleep or extremely quiet.

I wiggled around until I could get the fabric tied around my body to shift just enough forward to catch it with the front of my wing. I flexed my wings and felt them rub against the fabric. That’s it! I can do this! As I relaxed, the fabric shifted backwards and I let out a sigh. This was going to take a while…

~ * ~ * ~

“This won’t take but a second!” Carbon Cylinder said, making his way into the front of an old diner.

The restaurant looked like it was made of curved sheet metal, more resembling an enormous silver bullet than a building. Large, boarded-up windows were set in the front and a sign with giant light-up letters spelled out the name of the diner. Based on the marks where letters were removed, I guessed that the sign used to read “Ash’s Diner”, but now had been creatively rigged to read “Ass Diner”.

I giggled to myself, and wiped the sleep from my eyes as I brushed my stone blue mane aside. Turning to mom I asked, “What’s he getting?”

Evergreen watched Carbon fiddle with the door, and gave an amused snort. “This used to be our hiding place. We hid a stash under the floorboards where the cash register is. When we left Silverhoof, when you were much younger, we left several things here that would make our lives a lot easier for when, or if, we’d ever return.”

Carbon disappeared inside, and I turned to mom. “And this is where you found me?” I asked.

She extended her wing and pulled me close. “Not here, specifically,” she said, “but yes… Silverhoof is where we found you…”

“Then where?” I prodded.

She smiled. “That’s a secret!”

I pouted, and muttered. “I hate secrets... When do I get to find out?”

“When you’re much, much older,” she said as she nuzzled my cheek.

Carbon emerged from the building empty-hooved and trotted towards the wagon. “Hey, the place has been trashed. Can you give me a--” He stopped dead. “Shit, we gotta go.”

My mom bolted upright on the wagon and looked behind us as Carbon rushed to the front and hitched himself up as quickly as he could. I looked around frantically.

“What!? What is it?” I asked.

“Keep out of sight,” Evergreen said, pushing me towards the back of the wagon. I crawled under the canvas and peeked out, trying to catch a glimpse of what my parents were so afraid of.

The wagon lurched as Carbon took off at a full-tilt gallop, and Evergreen pulled a rifle from behind the seat. She popped the magazine, inspected it, then knocked it against her hoof a couple times before reinserting it. She partially opened the breech, then slammed it shut, nodding.

Carbon shouted from the front, huffing as he spoke, “Are they gaining?”

As if to answer, the first shot rang out from behind us, and I heard an electric crackle whiz by overhead.

Evergreen shouted back, “I’ll fend them off! Just keep running!”

She took flight from the front of the wagon and flew up above us, easily keeping up with the wagon’s pace in the air. She whirled and took aim, firing off two shots. There was a scream from behind the wagon, followed by somepony falling and rolling.

I made my way to the back of the wagon as it bounced and lurched wildly. Gunfire continued to ring out as several boxes fell over, nearly crushing my talon. As I peeked my head out of the canvas in the back, another shot from my mother’s rifle rang out.

A black-clad pony who was only a few feet from the back of the carriage lost his head. His body continued to run for several steps until it stumbled over and fell to the ground, while the head bounced several times, still encased in the pony’s black helmet. I saw the legs of the body curl in before it was obscured by dust and darkness.

I could tell there were others pursuing us, but my night vision wasn’t as good as my parents, and the wagon was kicking up an immense amount of dust. I could simply hear them galloping behind, only catching sight of them when they were within about 10 or 15 feet.

“There’s too many!” my mother yelled from above.

“Boy!” Carbon’s voice rang out. “Ditch the cargo! It might slow them down!”

I stared at the dark void behind us and the dirt rising from the wheels of the wagon, then looked at the cargo around me: a lifetime of stuff: memories, tools...

“Boy!”

“I got it!” I shouted back, and grabbed the first box I saw. I threw it out the back of the wagon and as it hit the ground it exploded with fabric and leather. I looked for a heavier box.

Bullets continued to fly towards us, some impacting the wagon, many whizzing past us or above my head. I kept finding things to throw out the back to litter the road behind us with: nails, scrap metal, terracotta pots…

Suddenly a bright red beam arced across the sky with a deafening twangy buzz. A crimson glow illuminated the dozen or so ponies still pursuing us for a split second, revealing black silhouettes with scary masks that had tubes sprouting from them.

My mother screamed out in pain, then swore. “Shit!” She flew low over the wagon and shouted down at me, “Storm Mist! Get to the front, climb on your dad’s back and undo the wagon hitch.”

I swallowed. “What?”

“Do it!” she ordered. “Do it now!”

My heart pounding, I rushed to the front to do as she asked. Shaking violently, I flew above my father and wrapped my talons around the quick release on his harness. I pulled as hard as I could until the metal pin creaked and came loose. The wagon immediately crashed to the ground behind us, then spun as it dragged to a stop.

“On my back, son! Save your wings,” Carbon said as he grabbed my tail with his teeth, yanking me down. I held onto him for dear life, as he continued to gallop fiercely.

I turned and looked back as the wagon was hit by the red bolts of energy and burst into flames. I saw my mother land hard not far behind it, her right wing was mutilated and she panted hard as she stared at the ground.

She looked back at us for a brief moment that felt like an eternity. Her teeth were clenched, and her eyes betrayed a grim determination. I could swear she mouthed the word “Go” before she turned to face our pursuers.

Carbon kept running as I watched a dozen black figures surround her, all with weapons pointing at her. One figure calmly trotted up to her, and they exchanged some words before I saw a final red flash.

My mother’s body turned bright white, surrounded by a red corona, as she was immolated.

I didn’t even scream out. I wanted to… I wanted to fly off my dad’s back, straight into the group of ponies, and systematically rip them all to shreds with my talons… but it was like my brain had stopped working. I just stared at the burning wagon with tears in my eyes, as it fell further and further into the distance.

~ * ~ * ~

With a rip, the bonds holding my wings came free.

I brought my right wing up to my face and managed to pry off the blindfold. The sudden influx of light made my head explode in fresh new waves of pain, but after a few moments figures took shape.

The wagon had two rows of ponies chained to the floor, and I was smack dab in the middle of the group on the right. Supplies were stuffed in nets that hung above us and swung every time we hit a bump. In the middle of the cramped wagon between the two rows were several crates strapped to the floor. My father was nowhere in sight.

“Impressive,” said the mare across from me in a hushed voice. She was a gray unicorn with a messy short-cropped mane that was a deep charcoal color, almost black in some areas. She had some kind of metal computer attached to her left foreleg, and she looked at me with crimson eyes that seemed to convey an intelligent and confident nature. I just stared at her dumbly, unsure as to what to say.

“I was about to make a daring escape when I saw you start to move,” she said, “then you started wiggling around and I thought you might’ve been dancing.”

“...Dancing?” I asked incredulously.

“Yeah... I thought it was weird,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Thought maybe it was some sort of griffinpony thing.”

“...What?”

Somehow her words just seemed to make my migraine worse.

“Isn’t that what you are? Some kind of griffin… pony… hybrid?”

I closed my eyes and sighed. “I’m a hippogriff.”

“Ooh!” she exclaimed in a melodramatic whisper. “I didn’t think griffs could join HIPA! I’m a member too! Still in silver status, but hope to reach gold someday...”

“A member… What now?”

“Of HIPA! You know, Highly Intellectual Ponies of Amada!” she said with a smile.

“What’s Amada?” I asked.

“Nothing! What’s a matta’ with you?” She giggled to herself.

I closed my eyes and tried to rub my temples, but realized for a second time that my legs were chained. I groaned.

“Sorry, nerd jokes,” she said sympathetically. “But seriously, the way you cut yourself free was pretty impressive!”

“Thanks,” I mumbled. “So, how exactly were you planning to make a daring escape?”

“Ah, you see-- I was going to pull out the bobby pin I had hidden under my PipBuck and undo these chains and this collar, and then cut my way out of this wagon, fleeing stealthily into the night!”

I looked around at the light illuminating the wagon. “It’s... day.”

“I know,” she said, “but ‘fleeing into the night’ sounds better than ‘fleeing into the day’.”

Were all unicorn mares this weird?

“And you were stopped from doing this by my… dancing?” I asked.

She giggled. “Not quite, but it was a glorious distraction!”

“Then... what?”

“You see this ring on my horn?” She lowered her head towards me and I saw the small metallic ring engraved with several runes. “It keeps me from using my magic. If you could help me get it off, we can get out of here.”

I nodded. She leaned towards me, straining against her chains and I did the same, stretching my wings out and trying my best to manipulate the object. After a few failed attempts, I was able to pull it free, and it dropped to the floor of the wagon.

Her horn lit up with a crimson glow and a bobby pin floated out from underneath the computer on her leg. The hoof restraints came free, and she stretched out her legs. She then manipulated the collar around her neck with both hooves and her magic and the little red LED briefly flashed green before turning off completely. She slipped it off with ease.

“Ah, much better!” she said. For a moment, I expected her to just jump off the back of the wagon and leave me here, but she kept her word and undid my restraints and collar.

“What are those things?” I asked as she levitated the collar.

“Slave collars,” she said, “a device used by slavers to keep ponies in line. Try to tamper with it? It explodes. Try to escape? It explodes. Basically, if you make a slaver's life difficult or unprofitable, they'll just blow your head off with the push of a button.”

“Shit…” I was glad she was telling me this now, instead of when she was fiddling around with the damn thing attached to my neck.

The unicorn moved to the back of the wagon and peeked out between the canvas flaps, before turning to me. “Alright, one of those ponies will get tired or distracted sooner or later, when they do, we can make a run for it.”

“Wait,” I said, looking at the other slaves chained in the wagon, “what about them?”

She looked back at me quizzically. “Huh?”

“Can’t you release them too?”

“Oh!” She looked at the other ponies as if they just magically appeared. “Yeah, I suppose I could do that. Maybe we could all overpower them to escape!”

The wagon stopped abruptly, and there was a commotion up front. I exchanged a glance with the unicorn, and she immediately floated the two slave collars in front of her and started messing with them.

“What the hell are you doing?” I whispered.

“Something crazy,” she replied.

I heard the sound of one of the lead ponies being unhitched and a body falling to the ground.

“We lost another one,” said one of the slavers.

Somepony hopped off the front of the wagon as he spoke, “Drag him out of there. Leave his carcass by the ditch.” That was the voice of their leader, and I was filled with the sudden realization that I had missed the shot. Fuck...

“Alright, little ponies-- shift change!” a voice said from the side of the wagon, and I heard hoofsteps circle to the rear.

“Be ready,” the unicorn whispered to me. I stayed behind her and prepared myself.

The canvas flaps at the back of the wagon opened as the pony spoke, “Alright now! Which one of you wants to pull-- huh?”

The unicorn whipped the slave collars at the face of the pony, and they landed with a resounding clack against his head. I braced for the explosion…

...that never came.

“Oww, fuck!” The pony retreated, a hoof over his face as he continued to swear. “Celestia damned rugmunchin’ unicorn motherfucker…” He carried on.

“Wasn’t it supposed to go boom?” I asked.

“Uhh... yup?” the unicorn replied sheepishly. “That was the plan, at least...”

“So, what’s the plan now?”

“Fight!” she said, and she jumped out the back of the wagon.

Okay. Unicorn mares were definitely crazy. ...But so was I, I guess. I followed her out.

Absolute chaos had erupted. Within just a few seconds, the unicorn mare had flung the swearing pony’s machete into an earth pony, who she had swiftly disarmed and was now taking shots at the red unicorn sniper pony.

The swearing pony turned to face me, a hoof still over his face as I swiped at him with a talon, ripping through his unarmored foreleg. I extended a wing and slashed at his head, but he ducked under me and pounded his hooves into my chest.

I backpedaled, wheezing from the impact, then took flight as the pony went for a tackle. I narrowly avoided his grasp, flying up above him. Turning in the air, I dove down and tackled the pony while driving a talon into his head. He fell unconscious.

More shots rang out, and I turned to see that the unicorn mare had made short work of the sniper pony. She was now systematically mowing down every other slaver that pointed a weapon at her. Every guard pony who was wearing a collar immediately dropped their weapons and put their hooves in the air.

The leader appeared at the front of the wagon, revolver in teeth, and was raising it towards the unicorn. Visions of my mother surrounded by black figures pointing weapons at her flashed before my eyes, followed by the sight of my father with a knife to his throat, and me: frozen in place.

Do something this time!

“No!” I screamed as I rushed towards him.

I saw the hammer pull back just as the lead stallion hitched to the wagon applebucked the leader for all he was worth, his unconscious body flying an impressive distance before landing in a heap.

“That’s for mah brother,” the stallion said with a whinny.

Within less than a minute, it was over. The unicorn mare trotted up to me with a smirk. “That wasn’t so bad!”

Yup. Unicorn mares: Definitely crazy! “Sure,” I stammered. “How’d you do that?”

“What?” she asked as she popped the locks on the leads and unhitched the stallion from the wagon.

“Move so fast!”

“Oh.” She pointed at the metal computer on her foreleg. “PipBuck.”

“You have super-speed thanks to a computer?” I asked.

“Sort of-- it’s not just a computer. It’s one of the most technologically advanced spell matrix devices in the history of Equestria! It has a feature called S.A.T.S. -- Stable-Tec Arcane Targeting Spell. It momentarily speeds up the user’s perception so they subjectively have more time to execute a set of actions.”

Right… So, super-speed thanks to a computer.

“Ah,” I said lamely. We released the slaves and searched the wagon. I was able to retrieve my axe, combat knife, and armor, and the unicorn retrieved a blue and yellow jumpsuit. As she slipped it on, I noticed it had ‘131’ embossed on the collar.

“There’s… probably better armor choices out there,” I suggested, pointing at her jumpsuit.

She smirked. “Yeah… probably. But I’ve grown rather attached to it.”

Was it just me, or did her crimson eyes betray a hint of sadness as she said that? “Well, I’d be happy to augment it for you,” I said, “if there’s materials available.”

She looked up at me with surprise, then stared at me like she was deep in thought. After a long moment, she smiled. “I’m Crimson Rose.”

“Storm Mist,” I replied.

Behind the wagon, the slave collars that had hit the swearing pony in the face finally exploded in a sharp but underwhelming puff.

* * * * *

We had dragged the mess off the road, freed the slaves of their collars, and chained up the slavers that were still alive. The sun was getting low in the sky, and so we decided to make camp. Some of the slaves we had freed were huddling together in smaller groups, while others just kind of wandered around, unsure of what to do with themselves.

The stallion who had pulled the wagon wandered over to a large tree and began digging a hole beneath it. After some time I realized that he was digging a grave for his brother, and I lent a claw to his effort, helping to deepen and enlarge the grave. We wrapped the deceased pony in a sheet we had found in the wagon, and laid him to rest. Crimson Rose watched us with sad eyes while sorting supplies from the wagon with one of the slaves.

There were ample rations to go around: cans of Cram, boxes of Sugar Apple Bombs, Fancy Buck Cakes, as well as some salted meat that we fried up on a spit. As night settled, we sat around the fire and ate.

Crimson Rose sat across from me, alternating between eating hooffuls of Sugar Apple Bombs and bits of the fried meat. A bottle of rye sat by her side, the soft orange light of the fire flickering off the glass, and illuminating her coat. Her red eyes seemed to glow as she cut a piece of meat from the spit, and she glanced up at me. “So what’s your story?”

I considered the question for a moment. “Like… my life story?”

“Yeah,” she replied as she popped the meat into her mouth.

“Well, I think I was born in Silverhoof during the war, but I have no idea who my biological parents were, or what things were like back then… At some point in my early childhood I was put into a stasis pod, but I don’t remember anything about that, or when my adoptive parents found me…”

I told her about how my ghoul parents found and rescued me, raising me as their own. She laughed when I talked about my father and his eccentric ways, and her eyes turned sad as I told her about my mother-- how she always tried to teach me about plants and medicine but I was too dumb or too young to listen. I may not have learned anything about plants, but she taught me a lot about compassion, and showed me how important it is to fight for those you love... right up to the end.

I told her about the night we arrived back in Silverhoof after many years, how our wagon was pursued by raiders, and how my mom died. After a moment, Crimson Rose’s compassionate expression turned to confusion. “Wait…You said they were raiders?” she asked.

“Yeah… why?”

“How do you know that’s what they were?”

I considered the question... How did I know that? “Because… they were attacking us for no reason? And my dad always described them as raiders.”

She sat up and looked at me inquisitively. “Did you… see any of them?”

“Yeah, they were all clad in black and were wearing these helmets that looked like gas masks with tubes extending from them.”

“All of them?”

“Yeah… why?”

Her brows furrowed, and she looked at me seriously. “Storm Mist… I don’t think those were raiders.”

My mind went blank and I felt a chill. “Wh… But, why not?”

She sighed and looked into the fire as she spoke, “Because raiders aren’t that organized… they’re not that fast, and they don’t have a standard uniform… Usually they’re clad in cobbled together armor stolen from a dozen different victims, and they have a tendency to prefer spiky things… the ponies you described don’t fit the definition of a raider at all…”

“Then… what do you think they were?” I asked.

She took a pull from the bottle of rye. “Honestly? Sounds like Enclave… or maybe a merc group fitted similarly.”

My father’s words rang in my ears: “The Grand Pegasus Enclave is very real and very dangerous…”

Could the Enclave actually have been there that night? No… they’d have no reason to be down below the clouds. And why would they chase two ghouls? It didn’t make sense...

I was about to ask more questions when I heard a groan from where we had chained the slavers. The leader was waking up. Despite the massive amount of dried blood on the back of his head and neck from the powerful kick he received, he was alive. I gave Rose a look, then grabbed the six shooter revolver and headed towards him, and she followed by my side.

I looked down at the face of the evil stallion and asked, “Where’s my father?”

The leader wavered and wobbled as he slowly lifted his head. As his eyes met mine he broke into a bloody smile and laughed in my face.

I raised the revolver and asked the question again. “Where… is my father?”

He spit a gob of blood at me and chuckled a couple more times before speaking. “Well, Celestia spank me with her scepter, Pretty Birb’s got guts…” He eyed Crimson Rose. “And a new friend it seems… did you two do it in the back of the wagon? Heh heh…”

I cocked the hammer back with a talon and knelt down in front of him, making sure he had a good view of the loaded pistol. I tried to hide the fact that my claw was shaking. “Where--”

“Is my father?” he mocked, then looked me straight in the eye as his grin vanished. “In the middle of the road. Several miles back. Probably getting torn apart by vultures and feasted on by radsnakes and bloatsprites.”

My claw continued to shake. “I don’t believe you.”

“Believe me or don’t, kid. But if you’re gonna try and shoot me again, don’t miss this time. You might take out your unicorn friend like you took out your dad.”

I shook as rage flooded my body, and doubt flooded my mind… Had I? No. There was no way I could shoot my dad… I tried to remember... He was standing behind my dad, with a knife to his throat… I had the revolver in my talons, and I was looking down the sights like my dad had taught me… I… I lined up the shot! But then I was hit in the back of the head… Wait, was that before or after I took the shot? I shook my head and growled angrily.

I heard Rose’s voice behind me. “Storm Mist…”

I aimed the revolver at the orange stallion’s head.

Do it!

“Don’t do it,” Rose said gently from behind me. “Not like this.”

My claws were shaking to the point where I could hardly keep the sights on the stupid pony’s head from just a few feet away. He just stared at me and laughed, as if I wasn’t a threat at all! As if I was powerless...

Kill the bastard!

“You’re not an executioner,” Rose said.

“How the fuck do you know!?” I screamed as I whirled around, tears stinging my vision. She took a couple steps back. “How do you know who the fuck I am when I don’t even know!?” I dropped the revolver on the ground. “He held a knife to my father’s throat! His sniper nearly took my dad’s head off! He captured you and me and everypony here! Tell me he doesn’t deserve to die!”

As I spoke, Rose’s expression turned from fear to compassion. “I never said he doesn’t deserve to die, “ she said quietly, “but look around...”

The ponies who had been enslaved were all standing now, scattered around the camp. Every one of them watched me: some with anger in their eyes, some with sadness, and some who didn’t have any emotions left to display. But none of them turned away, and all of them were still.

“They’ve all suffered like you have,” she continued, “and for far, far longer than you or I… Would you deny them their justice?”

I looked around at all the slaves we had freed. They were battered, beaten ponies. Some were missing body parts or had grievous injuries, while some, like the stallion who stood by a fresh grave, had lost-- or been taken from-- those that they had loved. Suddenly, I felt an intense shame. This stallion was not mine to take revenge on: He was theirs.

“Damnit, kid-- shoot me!” the leader suddenly yelled. “Put a fucking bullet in my brain! I’ll-- mmphhfffarrrumpff” Crimson magic wrapped around his jaws, silencing him.

Rose smirked. “He talks too much.”

I grabbed a length of rope from the wagon and wrapped it around his muzzle, securing it with a tight clove hitch. I turned and looked at the ponies around me. “He’s yours,” I said as I stepped away from the orange stallion.

They all silently nodded at me, then continued as they had before I drew attention to myself. I took the revolver and trotted over to the stallion who had buried his brother. He looked at me with weary eyes. “This should be yours,” I said as I held the revolver up to him.

He simply shook his head. “Naw… I dun’ wann’ any reminders of today...”

I nodded slowly, then turned away.

“I really thought you was gonna do it,” he said from behind me.

“Me too,” I muttered. I threw the revolver back in the wagon and sat back down by the fire. Crimson Rose trotted up and sat down next to me.

For a while we just sat in silence and watched the crackling fire, until eventually, she spoke. “It’s not easy being a hero, is it?”

“Who’s a hero?” I retorted.

“You are.” I snorted. “No, really-- you are,” she said as her crimson eyes met mine.

I shook my head. “I’m just a smith’s son.”

She placed a hoof on my foreleg and I jumped slightly. “Heroes are those who face impossible decisions… and take the harder path,” she said. “You did that tonight. You chose the harder path. That makes you a hero.”

“Sure doesn’t feel like it,” I said.

She gave a soft laugh. “Never does.”

I thought about what my dad would say when I found him. Whether he’d be disappointed in my actions: losing it in front of everypony, allowing myself to get captured... I sighed and stared into the glowing embers at the base of the fire.

After some time, I looked away from the flames and realized Rose was still lying beside me, her left hoof still resting upon my claw. The PipBuck on that leg was reflecting the light of the fire, and her head was resting on her other hoof.

The day had been a blur of travel, capture, and escape. I had been so focused on what had to be done that I didn’t think about where I was, or who I was with. Now I was lying by a campfire with a unicorn mare... An extremely deadly unicorn mare.

I shuddered as I thought about how efficiently she had exterminated a half dozen slavers in the same amount of time it took me to deal with only one. I knew it! Unicorns were deadly superheroes! I chuckled to myself, and wondered if she knew who the “Chiefs” were.

I considered asking her about her story, but when I turned to look at her again, her eyes were closed and her breathing was even. I sighed and continued to stare into the fire as my eyes grew heavy as well, and I started to drift off into a dreamless sleep.

* * * * *

The next morning was a blur of activity. The resources from the wagon were split up among different groups, the fire doused, and the camp broke. A large group were all planning to travel to the same area, and so it was collectively agreed upon that they should take the wagon. Several smaller groups would all go their separate ways, and the slavers would be left chained in the broken camp, beaten and bloodied. They most likely wouldn’t get the chance to starve to death, as some creature would smell the blood and come looking for an easy meal.

All except one that is. The slave ponies decided that the leader should be beaten and quartered for his crimes. By the time Crimson Rose and I left, they had tied each of his limbs to a harness on four different ponies and had started to pull his joints out of their sockets. We could hear his screams echo in the distance for at least an hour until the slaves grew tired of his screaming and simply galloped off in four different directions, leaving his split and broken body in plain sight of the rest of the slavers.

I never even knew that pony’s name. But that’s probably for the best: evil stallions like him don’t deserve to be remembered.

As we walked along the road, Rose carried both the sniper rifle and the slave leader’s revolver: despite offering it up for the taking, nopony had wanted it. The air had a cool bite, but it was a clear, mistless morning. And as I peered down the rocky mountain road stretching into the distance, I couldn’t help but think it felt like a nice day... I was just waiting for something to go terribly wrong.

I shook my head and flexed my wings.

“Are you going to start dancing again?” Rose asked.

I scoffed, “No, I--”

“Cuz I’m just saying, I’m not opposed--”

“I wasn’t dancing!”

“What’s wrong with dancing?” she asked with mock indignation.

“Nothing! But I wasn’t... You-- argh!” I stammered.

Rose giggled, then punched my shoulder with a hoof. “You’re so easy to rile up!” she said with a grin. I muttered, unable to keep myself from smiling. Stupid funny unicorns…

“So… you’re nervous,” she said as she cast her gaze over the ridge.

“...Yeah. I’m not sure what I’m going to find back there,” I said as I lowered my head.

Rose simply smiled. “Well, whatever it is, you at least won’t have to face it alone.”

I looked over at her as we trotted along and asked, “Why did you decide to come with me?”

She held up a hoof triumphantly. “Because you’re the great hero and I’m your awesome sidekick!”

I snorted. “I told you I’m not a hero.”

“Oh right,” she said, “then I’m following you because you offered free armorsmithing work and a girl would have to be a moron to not accept an offer like that.”

“Fair,” I replied, then paused, “but, I can’t help but feel there’s something more to it than just that.”

Her grin disappeared, and I caught a glimpse of the same sad look she had when I was helping that stallion bury his brother. “Get me drunk someday and maybe I’ll tell you. But for now, I’ll say this: I’m following you because you’re the kind of pony who can do the right thing… and that’s pretty damn rare in the Wasteland.”

I hummed to myself, taking in her words as we continued walking. “Rose?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m not a pony.”

She laughed, then gave me a sly look. “Your ass-end is!”

* * * * *

We traveled for several hours back down the gravelly road before I spotted some landmarks that looked vaguely familiar. The mountain winds were cool, but timid, and the diffused glow of the sun filtered through the cloud cover, illuminating everything with a drab, even light.

We encountered the occasional tainted animal as we walked, but I easily dispatched the radrats and radroaches with my axe, and Rose was particularly good at sniping bloatsprites with the rifle before they could get close enough to infect us. She seemed to always have a sense of when something was near, and when I asked her about it she told me more about the arcane device on her leg.

Apparently the device had a feature called E.F.S., or “Eyes Forward Sparkle”, that somehow augmented her vision so she could see when other living things were nearby and whether they were aggressive or not. I thought the name was stupid, but the feature itself sounded incredibly useful. How awesome would it be to know exactly where everything is around you and whether or not it wanted to rip your head off?

She was quick to correct me, however. “It doesn’t see everything. At least, not all the time.”

“How so?” I asked.

“It can’t tell you what kind of creature a life form is, or whether or not it’s truly hostile or just a pony who’s afraid of you and ready to defend themselves. Sometimes it fails to pick up a threat entirely, especially if that life form is technically dead. I’ve noticed it won’t recognize feral ghouls until they’re already running at you full-tilt with snapping teeth.”

I chuckled. I was very familiar with fending off ferals. “Ah, you just kinda develop a knack for it over time, I guess. I tend to kind of know when one’s about to jump me.”

She looked at me oddly for a second. “You’ve killed ghouls?”

“Feral ghouls, yeah... Why?” I asked.

She hesitated. “Isn’t your dad a ghoul?”

Ah, right… I suppose that could be considered a weird thing, couldn’t it? But the difference between killing a ghoul and killing a feral was night and day, to me at least.

“A ghoul, yes,” I explained, “but not a feral.” I turned to face her.

“Sometimes when a ghoul has been around for too long, they turn: either got exposed to too much taint, or forgot who they were... When they lose that sense of who they are, or what their purpose is, that’s when they start to turn. Killing a feral isn’t an act of murder; it’s an act of mercy. It’s putting a soul who has suffered through the worst of the Wasteland to rest.”

Rose looked at me in her peculiar way. “So, if your father turned, you would--”

“Give him mercy, yes.” I aimlessly scratched at the road with a claw, picking up a smooth pebble and flicking it with my talons over the ridge. Crimson Rose gave a sympathetic smile, then kept walking. I followed.

It wasn’t long until we reached the crest of the ridge that the slaver’s wagon had been parked on. The marks from where the wagon’s wheels dragged as it turned were still visible as clear gouges in the dirt road.

Looking down towards where my father and I were assaulted a day ago, I didn’t see anything physically lying on the road, but parts of it were still stained red from blood. I could barely see a set of brahmin hoofprints leading back down the road in the direction of Tiny, and there was a stack of rocks just off to the side.

“See anything?” I asked.

“Nothing on E.F.S. You?” Rose asked, and I told her what I could see. “You saw all of that from here?” she asked as she peered down the hill and squinted.

“Yeah. Why?”

She laughed. “Well, if I ever lose something in the brush, remind me to get you to look for it.”

I shrugged and we trotted down the hill. As we reached the bottom of the crest, Rose pointed at the pile of rocks. “Were those here before?”

I thought for a moment. “I’m not entirely sure, but... I don’t think so?”

She leaned down and scrutinized the structure. Two rocks formed the base, with a larger one laid across the two. Several smaller rocks were all balanced on top.

“It’s a cairn,” she finally said.

“What’s a cairn?” I asked.

“It’s a hoof-made rock formation that used to be widely used by the Native Equestrian Kirin Clan that inhabited these mountains. They’re used as markers: sometimes as a way point, or a territorial marker, or sometimes as a...” She hesitated for a moment, then looked up at me. “Sometimes as a memorial.”

Great. I sighed, looking at the little rock structure. “So, what do you think this one is?”

“I’m not completely sure,” she admitted, “since I’m not an expert in ancient Kirin customs, but the way it’s built... The rocks are all set to one side, and this one--” She pointed to a flat rock near the top of the stack that jutted out, parallel with the direction of the two rocks on the base. “Kind of points in the same direction as the bottom of the structure.”

I stepped around the cairn and looked in the direction it was pointing: down the side of the ridge and into the brush and trees below. I stepped to the edge of the road and peered down. It was a steep slope, but definitely traversable for a ground creature, and the plants near the edge of the road seemed to be bent in a different direction from their natural growth: somepony had wandered into the brush.

Suddenly, a growl echoed through the canyon behind us, followed by several yipping sounds from all around. Crimson Rose and I exchanged a glance as we readied our weapons.

“So, how’s that E.F.S. working out for you?” I muttered, looking around for any sign of the predators.

“It’s great,” she said as she slammed the bolt of the rifle closed. “We’re totally surrounded.”

I was beginning to really hate this stretch of road.

Footnote: Level Up.

New Perk: The Pony Prance
Just get with the flow and let yourself go! Your moves are naturally charismatic, and you find it easier to persuade, convince, or attract others. New dialogue options are available.

Author's Note

And so we meet Rose! I absolutely love the dynamic between these two and it just gets better and better. Heheh! Also, thanks again to Cadet for helping bring her to life in the artwork!

And last, but not least, huge thanks to Artimae for helping proofread this chapter!

~ Forest Rain

Chapter 3: Children of the Wasteland

Chapter 3: Children of the Wasteland

“May the stars carry your sadness away; may the flowers fill your heart with beauty; may hope forever wipe away your tears; and above all, may silence make you strong.”
- Chief Dan George, Tsleil-Waututh First Nation

The noises around us grew. Yips, yells, and howls were heard from every direction, but every time I turned to look towards the source, I could only catch a rustling bush, or a pebble dropping from the edge of a rock.

Crimson Rose and I stood side-by-side, facing different directions, her with the bolt-action rifle, and me with my combat axe. She looked briefly at the PipBuck on her leg, then sighed.

“Any idea how many?” I asked.

“Nope,” she responded. “Red bars are appearing as fast as they’re disappearing... and from every direction.”

I guessed that was a bad thing, and readied myself for something to jump out at us any second. Instead, the noises stopped, and the road and canyon went still. Rose and I exchanged a glance, and I couldn’t help but feel we were sharing the same thought: What now?

I jumped as Rose suddenly exclaimed, “Puppy!”

I’m sorry, what?

She lowered the rifle in her telekinesis and took a few steps up the road. From the rocks up ahead, a little canine with a saddle brown and black coat trotted towards us. It had large triangular ears and a grinning expression. It was still about thirty yards away when it stopped, looked at both of us, then playfully hopped from side to side.

“Aww, what a cutie!” Rose swooned, and began to walk towards it.

“Rose,” I said.

“He’s probably been following us!” She started to dig through her pack. “Are you hungry, boy?” The canine creature bobbed its head and shuffled its feet.

“It… probably is,” I muttered to myself, “but Rose, stop!”

“Whaaaat?” she asked in exasperation, turning to face me.

“Look closer.”

She turned back around, squinted her eyes, and studied the creature. Despite looking rather cute at first glance, the animal’s cheery grin was a result of having chewed straight through its own cheeks. Flesh hung off one of its rear legs, exposing muscle, and its eyes were a sickly green hue.

Rose made an O-shape with her mouth. “Oooh…”

I muttered to myself. “Blind as a friggin’ bat...”

“Hey! I heard that!” Rose exclaimed. “And besides, bats aren’t actually--”

Rose’s body flew to the side as a much larger version of the animal up the road slammed into her with a loud thump, her rifle dropping from the air as she lost concentration on her telekinesis.

“Rose! Shit--” I took two steps but immediately had to duck as another one of the creatures dropped down from the rocks. I swung my axe at the snarling thing, but it jumped to the side and took a swipe at my forelegs.

Another one of the canines appeared to my right and bit at a rear hoof, its teeth gnashing against the metal of my greave. I took the opportunity to kick at it, and connected solidly eliciting a pained yip. I took several swipes at the first creature, but each potential blow turned into a narrow miss as it leaped and dodged my advances. Several shots from the revolver rang out behind me, and I took it as a sign that Rose was okay.

One of the canines broke into a sprint and tried to charge at me from the side. I had just enough time to drop low and extended my wing in its direction, and with no time left to stop itself, it plowed straight into my wing blade. A great gaping laceration spread wide across its neck and chest as the creature cried out and flailed wildly, thrashing against the dirt road and leaving a trail of trail of blood spatter in its wake.

I changed targets and immediately swung my axe towards the nimble canine that had been dodging my blows. The creature had been momentarily distracted by the flailing canine, allowing me to finally land a hit. My axe caught one of its front legs, dismembering it below the knee. The creature screamed out and hopped back. After a moment of hesitation, it barked several times then turned and hopped back into the brush.

I whirled around, looking for the next attack, but didn’t see any more of the creatures. I turned my attention back towards the still-thrashing canine on the ground, and with a quick swipe of my axe, its suffering ended. Rose had tumbled down the ridge slightly, but was now crawling up over the edge. I walked over and offered a talon, helping her up.

“I think we scared them off,” I said as she got to her hooves. “Glad you’re okay.”

“Ugh, yeah… not quite,” she replied.

“What do you mean?”

She turned and showed me her side. She had been cut in several places from the canine’s claws and there was a large ragged bite that was oozing blood through her stable suit.

“...Shit.”

I secured my axe and started searching through our packs. We had used all the healing potions on some of the slaves that were particularly mistreated, and unfortunately didn’t have much in the way of medical supplies at the moment. I pulled out the half-empty bottle of rye from her pack and the blanket from mine, and held the bottle up to her. “Drink.”

She gave me a brief look, then grasped the bottle in her telekinesis and took a long swig. I ripped a section of fabric from my blanket.

“You know,” she said, lowering the bottle, “when I said earlier that I might tell you if you got me drunk, I didn’t mean like… today.”

“Shut up,” I replied as I took the bottle back. “This is probably going to hurt.”

She rolled her eyes and muttered, “Not the first time I’ve heard that…”

I poured the rye over her wound.

“AaaaaAAH! OH SWEET CELESTIA, FUCK ME WITH YOUR HORN AND CALL ME LUNA!” she screamed. “HOLY FLYING MONKEY FARTS THAT HURTS!”

I couldn’t help but laugh as I wrapped the length of fabric around her body. She stomped a rear hoof repeatedly into the ground and growled through clenched teeth. “What the hell is so damn funny?”

I pulled the fabric tight and tied it securely. “Oh, you know,” I chuckled, “just your strange headcanon about the sexual practices of old dead princesses.”

Crimson Rose narrowed her eyes. I was half convinced she was going to shoot me for a second, but she took another swig of the rye and calmed a bit. I stuffed the remains of my blanket into my pack.

“By the way,” she said as I swung my bag back onto my back, “bats aren’t actually blind.”

I gave her an incredulous look, then shook my head. “Is that really what you’re still thinking--”

“And thanks.” She turned and walked to the edge of the road, and I just stood there for a moment watching her as I tried to think of something witty to say. Instead, I was just glad she was okay.

* * * * *

So, I’ve learned that "okay" is a relative term. Unicorns get whiny when they’re hurt!

“Aand why are we crawliiing around this damn hillside again!?” Rose slurred from behind me as I cut our way through a denser portion of brush and trees. “I mean... aaside from staring at cute hippogriff ass?”

I probably should’ve taken the rye away from her, but I didn’t want to find out how many holes I’d have in my hide from angering a super-speedy-trigger-squeezy unicorn who was injured and slightly drunk.

We had agreed that following the trail down the mountainside might lead us to whomever cleared the road of the bodies, and that potentially they might be willing to trade medical supplies. We’d have to be careful that we didn’t rush into anything or get caught in another ambush, but figured it’d be worth the risk. However, the trees were getting denser and the path was getting harder to follow, and the thought of turning around to head to Tiny or Ophir was becoming more appealing.

“Hey,” Rose said as she sniffed the air and looked around, “who’s making barbeque?”

I stopped and tried to smell what she described. I supposed there was the faint smell of burning wood? So many years of working next to my father might have caused me to become less sensitive to the smell. “Which way is it?” I asked.

Rose sniffed the air a couple more times. “This way, I think?” She began to creep through the brush, following her nose like a wolf stalking a rabbit. As she crawled under fallen logs and prickly tree branches, I followed behind, trying to keep aware and spot any signs of creatures, smoke, or settlements.

We spent quite some time clambering through thickets, thorny bushes, and pokey tree branches. For a while I wondered if this was just her form of payback for the pain of sanitizing her wound, but as we crawled through the brush I was more concerned that she would rip the bandages from her side.

Finally, we emerged from the scratchy pokey hell into a clearing that overlooked the ridge. There was a clear view of the dirt road that wound up around the side of the mountain, and I spotted the outpost that Tiny was built around in the distance.

A surprisingly well-maintained log cabin sat within the clearing with cut firewood stacked on one side of the structure from grass to roof. Steadily-increasing smoke rose from behind the building, while cracked stone stairs led from the doorway down the side of the mountain.

We crept around the perimeter to get a better look at the source of the smoke, and I noticed that the clearing was circled by several balanced stone structures similar to the one we had found on the road. Beyond the cabin was a large heap of wood and dried brush surrounded by stacked flat rocks. My heart started pounding as I noticed the three pony-shaped objects within the pyre, all of them wrapped tightly with fabric and engulfed by flame. I swallowed hard.

“Hey,” Rose whispered, “there’s someone on the other side.”

Through the flames I saw a figure, slightly larger than the average pony, with forehooves outstretched and eyes closed. She had a bushy mane and was wearing some kind of formal headpiece while silently chanting. I didn’t see any weapons on her and Rose’s E.F.S. didn’t mark her as a threat. We stepped forward and walked towards the pyre.

“Hello?” I asked as we approached, but got no response in return. “Excuse me, we’re here looking for somepony...” I took several more cautious steps forward as the heat of fire licked against me and embers rose into the air.

The pony on the far side of the fire finally opened her eyes and dropped slowly down to all fours. As she walked from behind the flames, I could see that what I had mistaken as a ritualistic headpiece was, in fact, part of her head.

“A kirin…” Rose breathed from behind me. I wasn’t entirely sure if she had directed the statement to me or was just whispering to herself.

The kirin had a large rust-red horn that sprouted from the crest of her head and split into smaller antlers, with a smoky green shell-like structure that extended down her forehead to the tip of her nose. A similar carapace covered her back, partially obscured by the magnificent autumn mane that cascaded down the back of her neck. She stood in front of us and bowed her head slightly, meeting our gaze with her own stoic, neutral expression.

I couldn’t help but feel slightly intimidated as she looked at us, but got the distinct impression that she was peaceful and polite. “Hi,” I said, “I’m Storm Mist, and this is Crimson Rose.”

I waited for a response, but the kirin just blinked. “Uhh… Do you… live here?” I asked.

She nodded slowly.

“And, uhm… You’re performing some kind of funeral ritual...” I stammered, unsure of how to approach the subject.

Again, she nodded slowly.

I shifted my weight and thought about what I really wanted to know… “Did… did these bodies come from the road up the hill?”

Again, a slow nod.

“Can you talk?” Rose suddenly blurted out, and I glared at her in response.

The kirin started to shake her head, but then looked down at Rose’s leg. She considered something for a moment, then made a waving motion, as if to signal us to follow. The two walked towards the cabin, but I hesitated and looked at the bodies in the fire. Three bodies.

I felt myself start to shake and I took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as I turned and looked out across the mountain range. The sun was starting to dip towards the western sky, and long shadows crept across the valley in the distance. I shook my claws out and followed behind Rose and the kirin.

The interior of the cabin was expertly built: each log had been precisely cut at the edges to interlock with the other logs around it. A ladder led up to a cozy loft bedroom that overlooked the main floor and intersected with several sturdy beams that comprised the supports for the roof. The walls were decorated with old paintings and photographs as well as colorful red, orange, and brown blankets filled with triangle patterns. I couldn’t help but think my father would love this place…

My father… who was maybe burning into ash outside.

I shuddered, clenched my talon and punched the floor, earning a worried glance from Rose. The two trotted to a corner that contained a terminal and several assorted bits of machinery. The kirin hooked a spark battery up to some wires that protruded from the machines and suddenly the terminal and several pieces of equipment came to life with blinking lights.

She typed in a few commands to the terminal, then extended a cable towards Rose, who grasped it with her telekinesis and plugged it into her PipBuck. Code flooded across both the terminal and PipBuck and the kirin grabbed a device that looked like a plain iron crown and placed it upon her head. The code finished scrolling and Rose unplugged the cable.

“If you’re doing what I think you’re doing,” she said, “then-- Whoa!”

“What? What is it?” I asked as I took a step towards her.

“I… I can talk to her! I see her thoughts, err, her words. Here.” She lifted up her PipBuck and showed me the screen: “Greetings,” it read.

Rose pointed to her eyes. “I can see it on my E.F.S.!” She turned her head and looked all around the room like a cat following a laser dot. “This is actually really cool!”

“What’s your name?” I asked.

The kirin looked at me, then Rose trotted up and showed me the screen on her PipBuck: “Autumn Vigil.”

“And you’re a kirin, right?” Rose exclaimed.

“Yes. The last of my clan.” Autumn Vigil’s stoic expression remained as unchanging as stone.

Rose’s smile was replaced with a look of curiosity. “The last… What happened to them?” she asked.

“The Time of Dying. After the balefire bombs fell, the world went still, and the land became poisoned. The weak and the old died first, but the sickness slowly passed to the others.”

Autumn Vigil led us to a picture that hung on the wall. Within a polished black frame, a faded photo showed a large group of kirin, all with smiles or silly faces. Near the front of the group was a smiling earth pony mare with an orange coat and blonde mane. She had her hooves outstretched and stood beside a kirin who looked remarkably similar to Autumn Vigil, but with a much happier expression.

“Is that you?” I asked, and the stoic kirin shook her head.

“No. That was my mother, Autumn Blaze. She died around the Time of Solace… and was one of the last to go.”

Crimson Rose frowned. “That couldn’t have been easy…”

“It is the way of things. One day I too will pass into the Eternal Herd and finally rejoin my people. Until then, I shall carry out my duties as priestess and shepherd, and help usher the souls of those who pass in our land to the next life.”

I stared at the floor as Rose responded, “Wait… This picture looks like it’s pre-war. How could that be your mom?”

Autumn Vigil turned her gaze from the photo to Rose as the words appeared on her PipBuck.

“Kirin lifespans are generally longer than pony lifespans. Or, at least they were before the Time of Dying… I have held my vigil for seventy-eight years.”

Seventy-eight years alone in this mountainside performing rituals for the dead!? I supposed there were fates worse than death in the Wasteland.

Rose mirrored my thoughts as she spoke, “Seventy-eight years all alone with nopony to talk to!?”

The kirin hesitated briefly, then nodded. “Even if there was another, I would be unable to talk to them,” she conveyed. “As priestess and shepherd, I have taken an oath to remain as silent as the dead; to never speak of our ways.”

Rose scrunched her nose and looked up at the kirin. “But... technically, you’re kind of speaking to us now, aren’t you?”

Autumn Vigil’s eyes wandered and a ghost of a smile appeared at the corners of her mouth. “Technically, I am cheating.” She turned her gaze back to us. “But I have often wondered if this technology actually worked, and this presented a good opportunity to test it.”

Rose giggled and I sighed as I worked up the courage to ask the kirin about what I really, really didn’t want to know… but probably should.

“Can you… tell me about the dead ponies out back?”

Autumn Vigil’s inscrutable gaze met mine, and I winced as I read the words on Rose’s PipBuck: “I found three recently deceased on the road: A white mare with a large wound in her chest, a larger stallion with several gunshot wounds, and a male ghoul with-”

Tears flooded my eyes and blurred the words as my body began to shake. I closed my eyes and struggled to control myself as memories of that moment flooded my mind:

Being pinned by the large stallion, my foreleg exploding with pain as he bent it around behind me...

Driving my axe into the white mare’s chest and collapsing on top of her...

Her look of surprise turning to a vacant stare...

A similar vacant stare from my father with half his face blown off.

I screamed as my hooves gave out and I dropped to the floor, punching my talons into the floorboards. The memories continued to flash and flicker in my mind as tears stung my vision.

I was staring past the iron sights at the gang leader, his hooves wrapped around my bleeding father… I aimed the revolver as I was taught years ago…

But then I hesitated. I kept thinking about mom; how I was powerless when she died. I was a stupid, useless kid whose only contribution was throwing our worldly possessions out the back of a wagon to try and slow down a threat that would have easily overtaken and destroyed us if it wasn’t for her… I could only watch as she was immolated into dust before my eyes.

...And now my father was burning to death too.

I scrambled to work my failing limbs, pushing everyone and everything to the side as I ran out of the cabin towards the pyre, stopping just in front of the blaze. I couldn’t save mom from burning, but I could save my father! I clawed at the flaming tinder, trying desperately to reach the wrapped, blackened body within. My talons burned until they were numb, and the fur around them caught fire. I ripped and scratched at the pyre until two sets of hooves pulled me back.

“No!” I screamed. “I can save him! I can keep him from burning! Please…” I begged my captors to let me go, to let me help my dad, but they held me to the ground. I shook uncontrollably, staring into the flames, thoughts of my dad burning alive playing over and over in my head…

I pulled the trigger on the revolver and everything went black.

After what felt like an eternity, I realized that I was sprawled limply on the ground with several pieces of smoldering tinder scattered in front of me. Rose was with me, her hooves wrapped around me in a protective embrace. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she studied me with worried eyes. I continued to shake, but at least I was lucid.

“I couldn’t save him…” I murmured through tears. “I thought I was stronger… that I… I thought maybe... “ I swallowed hard and began to feel the pain in my forelegs. “I couldn’t save mom, but I thought I could save--” I choked and began to sob, and Rose sobbed quietly with me as she continued to hold me.

“I know what that’s like,” she murmured quietly, “I do…” She leaned her head against mine and whispered, “I’m so, so sorry, Storm Mist…” I rested against her as chills raked my body, and we just sat there quietly in the light of the fire.

Eventually, I wiped the tears from my eyes with a foreleg, the charred surface rough against my forehead and beak. I sniffled, and said quietly, “My claws hurt.”

Rose choked on her tears slightly and gave a little laugh. “Yeah, because you decided to get into a hoof fight with a fire, stupid...” She gave me a small worried smile as she helped me up. “C’mon… let’s go inside and see what we can do for you.”

* * * * *

I hadn’t really paid too much attention when we had first entered the cabin, but as I sat now at a large dining table, cradling my singed legs, I finally saw the cabin for what it was: a home.

The space was large: large enough to comfortably fit a small family, and was filled with finely crafted furniture. Pictures and memories of a lost kirin clan were placed on shelves and hung upon the walls, devoid of dust or damage, and detailed tapestries with intricate designs hung from the rafters. Hoof-knit blankets were folded neatly on the backs of chairs, and a large brown rug sat welcomingly in front of a lit stone fireplace that crackled quietly.

Within the kitchen area, Autumn Vigil was digging through several polished oak cabinets and pulling out various plants and spices. Rose sat across from me as she tried to brush her dark charcoal mane away from her face. Several strands of hair still clung to her cheek, matted from tears, and she wiped at them with a hoof, never taking her crimson gaze off of me. The worried expression she wore had slowly settled into a calm, sad look.

“I’m okay…” I said quietly, then looked at my charred appendages. The ends of my claws had melted somewhat and burns covered the lower parts of my forelegs. I flexed a talon and was rewarded by a burst of pain that radiated up my legs. “Ow…”

Rose shook her head and sighed as Autumn Vigil moved to the table and set down a stone bowl with a small club-shaped implement in it. As I looked at it, I remembered that my mother had something very similar: a ‘mortar and pestle’, she called it. Though, I was unsure as to which part was the ‘mortar’, and which part was the ‘pestle’.

The kirin added several plants to the bowl as well as a small berry-type object. She grasped the… pestle? in her mouth and began to mix and mash the ingredients together until the mixture became a single green pulp. She gathered several strips of bandages as well as a brush-type object, then set to work on my forelegs. As she brushed the paste onto my burns, I expected to feel pain, but instead felt a pleasant cooling sensation.

“She says you have second-degree burns on your fetlocks, and the outer layer of your talons have melted,” Rose said as she read invisible text in front of her. “She wants to know if you still have feeling in them.”

I flexed my claws again, but didn’t feel quite as much pain as I did the last time. “Yeah,” I said, “they're numb, but there’s a dull pain.” Rose looked at Autumn Vigil, then back at me. The expression on the kirin’s face remained ever passive as she simply continued her work.

Rose spoke again, with a tone that betrayed a sense of relief, “She says you’ll be okay, but will need to avoid using your claws for a couple days.” Autumn Vigil finished bandaging my legs then looked up at Rose intently.

“...What?” Rose asked. There was a moment of silence. “Oh, of course. Thank you.” Her horn lit up and she untied the blanket I had used to bandage her. She tenderly removed it along with her saddle bags and damaged stable suit, and I noticed her cutie mark for the first time: An open leather-bound book with a page being torn from it. I contemplated the significance as Autumn Vigil moved to her side.

To be honest, her wound looked far nastier than mine. Her gray coat failed to hide how red the skin was around the area, and pus seeped from the edges of the ragged bite. The kirin raised an eyebrow, and Rose again read the invisible text.

“Uhh, some kind of dog-like creature,” she said. “Smaller than a pony with broad triangular ears… The first one we saw had green eyes and had chewed through its own cheeks.” The kirin began to dig through the cupboards again as I looked at Rose quizzically.

“Coyotes, she says, ghoulified and mutated by taint. They hunt as a pack, and have a nasty bite that can easily get infected.”

I looked at her with concern. “But… you’re going to be okay, right?”

“Of course!” she responded immediately, but then her smile faded slightly. “I hope…”

I laid my head on the table between my bandaged legs and muttered. This was my fault. I should have just come back alone. I let out a long sigh, but then felt a hoof touch my shoulder. I looked up into a pair of ancient yellow eyes as Autumn Vigil looked down at me.

Rose stammered. “She… says you shouldn’t blame yourself, and that I’ll be fine.” She took a step forward and blinked. “Are you..? Do… do you blame yourself?”

I felt tears welling at the edges of my vision again as I slowly nodded at her.

“Wh… well, you shouldn’t!” Rose said. “I chose to follow you. And I’m glad I did...”

“Why?” I asked, trying to figure out why a complete stranger would want to follow me down a dusty road, fight off a pack of wild tainted coyotes, and crawl through thick brush just to experience me losing my mind in grief… and for that matter, why had she been so kind? She had held me as I cried, just as my father did in the days after mom’s death…

“Because,” she said, then paused as she dropped to her rump and sat on her tail, lowering her head. She stared at the ground as she whispered, “Because nopony should have to face the Wasteland alone…”

I just stared across the table at the gray unicorn. In that moment, she looked so pathetic-- so unlike the hero that could move at super speed, disarming her opponents with ease, and dispatching a half dozen slavers in mere seconds. She looked… equine.

I got up from the table and limped over to her side. “You’re right,” I said, and I carefully wrapped my forelegs around her in a hug, taking care to avoid both her injuries and mine. She pressed her face into my neck and sobbed heavily into it, letting some long-buried emotion free. I didn’t know what pained her so much, but I could empathize...

In that moment, we were both children of the Wasteland: Abused, neglected, and beaten down by the unrelenting torrent of bullshit that comprised a life in this place… But we were together.

* * * * *

I laid on the rug in front of the stone fireplace, staring into the flames that licked off the burning logs, my head resting on a pillow between my talons. Rose laid beside me, fresh bandages wrapped around her torso. Neither one of us wanted to be alone, but we also had no more words to say as we both were lost in our introspection.

My barding sat in a heap in the corner. I’d felt a compulsion to clean and service it, but with my forelegs all wrapped in bandages, it would be rather difficult... And a large part of me just did not want to get up at all.

Autumn Vigil had told us that we were welcome to stay until we were healed, and pulled some bedrolls from storage. They sat in a drawing room that was filled with sketches, maps, and books, a space that had once been a bedroom for members of her family, but was repurposed when there was no longer a need for such a space.

Despite the presence of the comfy bedrolls, some part of me was drawn to sit in front of the fireplace and stare into the flame. I could still hear the pyre outside, and its dull rumble mixed with the quiet crackle of the fire in front of me.

My thoughts drifted to the forge. Some days my father would keep it burning so hot for so long that simply being in the same building was excruciating. I used to ask him if he was born in the flames of Tartarus, and he would laugh as he hammered at white-hot ore, sparks cascading around him. To anyone else, he would have been a vision of terror: a ghoul surrounded by sparks and flame, laughing manically as he hammered the ore into submission… But to me, he was Dad.

I was suddenly aware of a tear rolling down my cheek, and I rubbed my face against a bandaged foreleg with a sigh. Without mom, my dad felt lost and unsure of what to do, so he turned to his work, got lost in it, and taught me everything he could… I was starting to understand how he felt, because, without him, I now felt totally lost.

The hours seemed to pass like minutes until slowly my eyes shut, and I slept.

* * * * *

The next day it rained.

The soft patter of raindrops began before dawn, and quickly coated the windows in soft droplets that trickled slowly down the panes. I looked over at the stone fireplace and discovered it had become a smattering of coal and embers. My instincts took over, and I groggily stood and limped over to the small stack of firewood by the wall. I cradled a couple logs and carefully dropped them onto the hungry embers.

I took a piece with some dry bark and initially moved to scratch it off with a talon, but instead encountered a bandaged claw. I unsheathed the knife from my equipment and used it to pry the bark off and shred it into strips.

The knife had been a gift from my father when I was much younger: My first real weapon. It was a damascus steel blade, forged by layering iron and steel and continually folding to create a watered pattern alloy that was harder and more flexible than regular steel. The hilt was wrapped with leather ribbon and had been dyed a two-tone stone blue: the colors of my mane and tail.

I dropped the strips of bark upon the embers with a few pieces of tinder and blew upon them carefully. They glowed with each breath, and within a short amount of time, the kindling caught, and the fire started to happily devour its sylvan breakfast.

Peering through the raindrop-covered window, I found the funeral pyre was still out there, and still burning despite the rain. It did seem smaller than it had the day before, however. There was a part of me that had expected-- hoped-- that the events of the previous day were just a dream… but the pain in my forelegs and the numbness in my claws told me otherwise.

I turned away from the window, and realized that Rose and I had slept on the rug by the stone fireplace, instead of on the cots laid out for us. The unicorn was curled up on the floor, her muzzle buried into her forelegs with her mane covering her face.

Despite everything, I was lucky. If it wasn’t for her, I might not have been able to escape the slavers alive. She was smart: knowledgeable about things I hadn’t had the faintest idea about, disarming and rigging those slave collars… She was also brave, kinda crazy, and funny… Though, I couldn’t help but think that that last one was some sort of coping mechanism for her.

My eyes settled on her sleeping form, and I noticed her rhythmic breaths were punctuated by shivers. Grabbing the blankets from the cots, I draped one over her then laid down beside her, pulling my own blanket around me. The stone fireplace crackled happily, once again filling the room with its warmth, and I drifted back off to sleep.

* * * * *

We didn’t rise until early afternoon. The rain continued to gently fall as Autumn Vigil brought us both warm cups of tea, and a plate of greens that we hungrily devoured. I dug through my pack and retrieved some cans of Cram, offering one to our host, who simply waved her hoof. Rose was peering out the window as I offered her a can as well. She took it, then turned to our host.

“How long will the pyre burn for?” she asked.

Text appeared on her PipBuck in response: “Several days as I pray and usher the souls to the Herd.”

While I may not have shared the spiritual beliefs of our native kirin priestess, I could certainly appreciate them, and a part of me was glad that my dad’s spirit had a guide like her to help him into the beyond… I took a sip of the tea.

Then another sip.

Then a long gulp.

Holy hell, was this good tea!

I emptied the cup, wiped my beak, then looked over at the kirin sheepishly. “You… don’t have more of this, do you?”

The old kirin looked at me with her stoic expression, but I saw the hint of a smile curling the edges of her lips, and her eyes twinkled as she turned around and grabbed the pot. Rose, however, looked at me like I was crazy. “Is it really that good?” she asked.

“Gods, yes,” I replied as Autumn Vigil poured more of the blessed leaf broth into my cup.

Rose lifted her cup with telekinesis, took a sip, then shrugged. She looked at the kirin. “Leave it to a bird brain to have a spiritual experience over tea.”

The strange muted grin remained on Autumn Vigil’s face as Rose read some invisible text in front of her and started to laugh. I tried to read the screen of her PipBuck, but she jerked it away with a smile. “Nuh uh! This one’s just for us!” she said as she continued to laugh.

I didn’t care. I had tea to drink.

* * * * *

The rest of the day was quiet as the rain continued to pitter-patter on the roof. Autumn Vigil would step out every few hours and pray by the pyre, then come back inside and light a candle. Rose managed to sleep throughout the day like she was a professional at it, rising for the few occasions where Autumn would check her wound, apply some new tincture, then re-bandage her.

With Autumn Vigil’s permission, I dug through her library of books. There were texts full of kirin spiritual practices and prayers (which I briefly glossed through), several books of poetry, a series of horror novels written by an ‘R. L. Stable’, and an entire shelf dedicated to an adventure series about a character named “Daring Doo”.

I dug through a particularly dusty shelf that held several self-help books, with such exciting and engaging covers as “Discover A Better Mare! 50 Mindfulness Tips To Improve Your Daily Mindset”, “How To Win Friends and Influence Ponies: Tips From Twilight Sparkle”, and “The Pegasi Diet: Not Just For The Birds!”

I was about to move on when I discovered a book that seemed to be out of place: a novel about a mute pony named Snow Storm, who donned a cape and cowl while returning to the mean streets of Manehattan to take vengeance upon the four ponies who killed her older brother. I blew the dust off the top of the book, and began to read.

As I turned the page, I saw an illustrated picture of a small white earth pony mare with an electric blue and white mane. Her icy blue eyes looked sad as she sat at a desk and drafted a letter by candlelight.

I snuck a glance at Rose, who was once again curled up by the fire. The two mares could’ve been the same size, and Rose reminded me of a dark monochrome version of the pony from the book. She had the same sad look on occasion, and both were similarly badass in combat, though they fought very differently. ...And one was fictional.

Autumn Vigil gave me a nod as she climbed up to her loft bedroom, and I couldn’t help but wonder if she would identify with the mute character. I shrugged to myself, then continued to read by candlelight, quietly flipping pages long into the night.

* * * * *

The following morning I was awoken by thunder. The kind of thunder that grumbled its way lazily through the sky, warning of the storm to come. I trotted to the window and saw Autumn Vigil stretching in the rain, her eyes closed and head raised to the sky. The pyre still quietly burned behind her, seemingly unaffected by the weather.

“Spying on the kirin?” Rose asked, and I quite nearly jumped straight out the window.

“Damnit! Don’t sneak up on a griff like that!” I squawked. Rose giggled, then rested her chin on the window sill.

“What do you think she’s doing?” she asked.

“Stretching, it looks like.”

“Are you sure she’s not summoning some kind of god of thunder to strike down the squatters living in her home?” She gave me a sideways grin.

“Pretty sure,” I said, “I doubt she’d patch us up, make us tea, then have the gods strike us down. What would be the point in that?”

Rose shrugged. “Catharsis.”

I stoked the fire and put a kettle of water on for tea. Autumn Vigil had shown me how she prepared the drink, though the actual mixture of dried leaves was apparently a family secret that would most likely die with the kirin.

Rose wandered over to where I had been reading and nudged the remains of the candle, the wax nub falling off the pricket of the candlestick. “Did you get all the way through this thing?” she asked as she studied the cover of the book. “You were pretty into it.”

I turned and looked at her questioningly. “You saw me reading? I thought you were asleep.”

She yawned and flipped through the first few pages. “I was, mostly. At one point I woke up and saw you pouring over it by candlelight. I thought maybe it was some kind of… smithing guide or melee combat manual or something.” She looked up at me. “Didn’t think you’d be into fiction.”

I smiled. “We’ve all got our little surprises.”

Autumn Vigil entered, and shook herself off. We said our good mornings as I prepared the tea. The kirin watched as I measured out the leaf mixture and added it to the boiling water, gathered cups while I waited for it to steep, then strained the water from the kettle as I poured it into the pot. She nodded, then looked at me as I poured her a cup.

“She says you make an excellent student,” Rose said from behind me. I smiled. My father always told me that a suit of armor can be as flashy as Celestia’s regalia, but without precise cuts and well-set rivets, it will fall apart at the first blow. Details were important. Even for something as simple as making tea.

Suddenly, there was a great flash of lightning and an immense, radiating boom, and I nearly dropped the damn teapot.

“God of thunder,” Rose purred from behind me, “gonna strike us down!”

* * * * *

I was very, very glad to be inside.

The thunder and lightning increased as the day progressed. The blackened sky was furious with rain, and the clearing had been enveloped in green haze. Occasionally Rose’s PipBuck would click quietly as the sickly yellow-green lightning flashed through the sky.

A Radstorm was no joke, and we were lucky to have shelter. Travelling through one, especially in the mountains, was a one-way ticket to radiation sickness and a slow death.

I had tried to nap like Rose, but only succeeded in lying still as my mind raced with thoughts of my father and mother, so I occupied the day by reading and lightly servicing my barding and weapons. At one point Autumn Vigil gave me a blank book and a pen, and I sat with it between my talons for the longest time. After an eternity of staring at the thing, I began to write about my experiences: growing up with ghoul parents, things I’ve learned about smithing, and weird things my dad said. It felt oddly reassuring to write these things down in some kind of permanent form, and I took joy in writing and reminiscing.

After a while the thunder and lightning outside lessened, and I found myself in Autumn Vigil’s drawing room, looking at the various sketches and drawings around me. Many were quite good, especially the ones tacked to the walls. Many races were represented: ponies, griffons, unicorns, pegasi, and of course, kirin-- but I didn’t see any hippogriffs.

Some pictures looked like portraits, beautifully sketched with highly detailed faces. Others were simply locations, or rough approximations of creatures in everyday scenarios. Most were pre-war, but there were a few that looked like moments during the war, or locations in the Wasteland.

My eyes were drawn to a picture of a beautiful pegasus mare tending to a garden while surrounded by small forest animals. I couldn’t help but think of my mother and what she might’ve looked like before becoming a ghoul… Autumn Vigil poked her head in as I was studying the drawing.

“Who is this?” I asked as I pointed towards the picture. She looked at it, then looked back at me. A moment later, Rose trotted in with a yawn and sat next to me so I could read her PipBuck screen.

“One of the Ministry Mares before the war. Her name was Fluttershy.”

“She’s beautiful,” I said.

“By all accounts she was, both inside and out. She represented the Element of Kindness.”

I looked at the sketch once more, then motioned to the rest of the drawings. “Did you do all of these?” I asked.

“No… I have done many, though. It helps with the sight.”

“The sight?”

“I have visions of certain events before they happen. Sometimes just a scenario… Sometimes a detailed image of a creature involved. Drawing what I see helps me to remember.” She sifted through a pile of drawings and hesitantly pulled one out, setting it in front of me.

The drawing pictured a birds-eye view of a mountain road with several ponies standing around a wagon, all pointing weapons at each other. An earth pony was holding a ghoul hostage, and a hippogriff stood pointing a gun at the two of them.

My heart stopped. “That’s…” I began to shake, but Rose rested a hoof on my claw, stilling me. I closed my eyes and shook my head, turning the drawing over, then looked up at Autumn Vigil. “That’s me.”

She nodded slowly.

“What have you seen?”

She shook her head. “I cannot tell you that. Your journey is yours to discover, not mine to tell.”

“But, you know what happens in the future, right? Where I go from here?”

She hesitated for a moment before the words appeared on the screen. “I know you have a good soul.”

“That doesn’t mean anything!” I said, raising my voice. I had no idea who I was without my parents; no idea where I should go, or what I should do… I sighed as I continued reading her words.

“It does,” she conveyed. “You will carry on, and come up against great challenges. Your strength and resolve will be tested, and your limits will be found, but you will persevere. I have faith that, when the time comes, you will choose to follow the river home, and you will do what is right, for both the Wasteland and yourself.”

She punctuated her cryptic words by poking me in the sternum, and the action somehow prevented me from falling into the depressive hole that threatened my thoughts. Instead, I was just confused.

“What does all that mean?” I asked.

“It will become clear in time. Do not dwell on the future. Live now.”

I took a breath and raised my head. Looking into the eyes of the old kirin, I asked “So... how exactly do I ‘live now’?”

Her eyes softened and that weird muted smile returned to her lips. “You help me finish the ritual, and we put those souls to rest.” And with that, she trotted out of the room.

I was stunned into dumb silence. I had asked her what exactly I should do, but I didn’t expect to be assisting with some kind of kirin ritual! My thoughts and feelings had been so mangled up in the span of a couple minutes that I couldn’t help but simply get up and follow. As I stepped out of the drawing room, Autumn Vigil handed me a bundle of dried sage, and indicated for us to follow her outside.

While the rain still fell, the Radstorm had passed. Dark silhouettes of trees and mountains surrounded us, and the sun rested just below the cloud layer, painting the firmament with brilliant yellows, oranges, and reds. The pyre was still lit, despite the rain, and had burned low. There was no longer any sign of the bodies within the burning logs.

“She says to light the bundle of sage on the flames and to follow her lead,” Rose said from behind me. I glanced at her and the kirin, then did as she asked. Autumn Vigil pointed at the smoking plant, then waved her hoof over the pyre. I mirrored her movements with the sage, and as the smoke rose, it took on the glow of the sky. Something about the slow rising of the smoke, mixed with the gentle smell of the sage calmed and centered me.

She knelt by the pyre, then nodded in my direction. I knelt on the opposite side across from her, and Rose stood behind me, observing quietly. The fire crackled and the rain fell, as the trees around us swayed in the gentle breeze.

The kirin began to mouth words, uttering silent prayers, much as she had done when we first arrived. The sage sat to my side, its smoke gently rising, and I sat, droplets of rain rolling down my face and tickling my beak. As I sat, I was unsure of what to do. But then, suddenly, it came to me… I bowed my head, and began to speak to my father.

Dad?

If you’re out there, I hope you know… I’m sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to save you… or mom. I hope that the two of you are together again, and that you’re making a fool of yourself in some afterlife break room trying to impress her…

...What the hell am I saying? Why would the afterlife have a break room? That’s stupid…

I sighed. I’m terrible at this.

“No, you are not... Continue.”

Dad… I hope you know I tried... I tried so hard these past few years to become better, stronger… I tried to remember all the lessons you’ve taught me: to keep my head low in a fight, to pay mind to the small details in things, and to wet my forelegs before working with the forge…

I momentarily opened my eyes and looked at my bandaged limbs, soaked through from the rain.

Guess I forgot about that one… Anyway, what I wanted to say… What I really mean is… I love you... And I miss you, and mom... A lot. And I’m going to keep missing you for a long fucking time.

Tears ran down my eyes, mixing with the rain as I looked into the fire. But I’m going to keep going, just like you taught me. I know there’s a better place out there, somewhere... I can feel it in my heart.

I used to dream that past these mountains was a land filled with lush green plants and trees as tall as ancient dragons… I imagined an ancient city populated by every creature ever known: earth ponies, unicorns, kirin, griffins, pegasi, hippogriffs… All coming together in harmony to build a colony the size of a hundred Silverhoof’s, with great markets and squares and lanterns that burn throughout the night, bathing the city in a beautiful orange glow...

And that past the vendor stalls, beyond the streets packed with creatures, there’s a dock that overlooks the biggest body of water you have ever seen: a beautiful blue expanse that reaches all the way to the setting sun…

I used to think that dream was stupid; a fantasy of the Wasteland… But, what if it’s real? If there’s even a chance that a place like that is possible, I need to find it. Because you taught me to persist and survive, and mom taught me to follow my heart…

So… this isn’t goodbye, because you’ll be with me, always: Your lessons, your humor... and your wisdom.

...Say hi to mom for me, will ya?

And with that final thought, the kirin began to sing…

Aloud.

I opened my eyes and stared through the flames at Autumn Vigil, as her voice rang clear as the mountain air. Her melodic chants rose like trills from a great bird, and her rhythmic stomps became drums that compounded on one another, rising into a great chorus.

From all around me, an ensemble of percussion began to beat in time: simple and complex rhythms joined with various types of drums of differing timbres beating as one, while shakers of various types joined the rain’s gentle chorus. As Autumn Vigil’s voice rose with a clarion melody, other voices joined in with rhythmic chants, layering upon themselves until dozens of voices joined her in song.

I looked past the fire towards the edge of the clearing and saw a sight that stunned me to my core: we were surrounded by other kirin! Stallions, mares, children: all gathered around us in a circle, stomping their hooves, shouting, and beating on drums. Some played pipes and flute-like instruments, and many others added their voices to the great melodious choir.

Tears flowed freely from my eyes. Autumn wasn’t alone! I couldn’t help but add my voice to the growing choir as I cried with joy.

Several kirin children ran into the clearing and danced by the fire, playing with and taunting the flames that danced with them. They laughed and shouted as they moved to the beating drums and rhythmic chants, and Autumn Vigil’s harmonious voice soared through it all.

As I tried to mirror the words sung by Autumn, my eyes met those of a young kirin foal with a blazing red mane. She hopped happily over to me and removed an orange and turquoise necklace from her neck. She held it up to me and nodded.

I leaned my head down, bowing towards her, as she snapped it around my neck with a smile. I grasped it with a talon and studied it: it was made of alternating orange and turquoise stones, and at the very center was a bear claw. I smiled back at the foal, then looked across the fire at Autumn Vigil.

Autumn was smiling at me! Not the muted neutral smile she had given me on occasion over the past several days, but a full, genuine smile. I couldn’t tell if it was just the rain, but I could swear I saw tears running down her face. The red-maned foal ran back in with the other children and danced with them, and Autumn and I continued to sing.

Eventually, however, the voices began to hush, and the drums began to quiet. The fire died down, and the foals skipped back to their parents. The kirin surrounding us slowly turned and trotted out of the clearing into the darkness beyond, until the only voices left were mine and Autumn’s.

As our last note trailed out, the fire extinguished itself, and the rain stopped. We simply sat across from each other, both of our faces wet from rain and tears. The air was as still as death, and not a single word was said as the last tendrils of smoke rose into the twilight sky. Eventually I reached a talon up to grasp the necklace I had been given, but it wasn’t there.

“Wha-- where’d it go?”

“Where’d what go?” Rose asked from behind me.

I got up, and turned towards her. “The bear claw necklace that the little red-maned filly gave me!”

Rose looked completely and utterly confused. “I… I don’t know?”

I heard Autumn Vigil’s voice from behind me as she approached. “You cannot keep artifacts from the spirit realm.”

Rose began to speak, “She says that you can’t--”

“Keep artifacts from the spirit realm,” I finished for her. “I heard…”

Rose blinked hard, then looked at me with greater confusion. “How… How could you have…”

“I don’t know…” I said as I shook my head, then shivered. I wasn’t sure if I was shivering from the cold night air, or because of the experience I just had. “Why don’t we go inside?”

* * * * *

Rose and I sat by the stone fireplace like we had so frequently over the past few days, sipping on fresh cups of tea. Autumn Vigil joined us, and I recounted my experience: following Autumn’s lead, praying to my dad, the chanting and singing, the kirin who joined us, and the little filly who gave me her necklace.

Rose simply listened to the whole thing with a flabbergasted expression. From her point of view, Autumn Vigil and I sat before the pyre in silence until she heard me start chanting. From her perspective, it only lasted a few minutes, then stopped as the fire burnt out. For me, it was an hour-long celebration.

“Kinda neat,” she said, “but also kinda creepy.”

“No,” I replied wistfully, “it was… spiritual. I acknowledged the pain of my dad’s passing, made an affirmation to him to keep going, and the Herd helped me celebrate his life with joy and song.”

Rose shook her head and laughed. “You drink a kirin’s tea and now suddenly you’re singing and dancing with dead ponies.”

I couldn’t help but smile as Autumn turned her head towards me and asked without moving her mouth, “Did they seem dead to you?”

“No,” I said before Rose could instinctively start reading her words to me, “they seemed very much alive. I... thought they were, at the time.”

Autumn nodded. “They are my tribe: my ancestors, my brothers and sisters, my father and mother… and my daughter.”

“So that’s how you’ve been able to survive all these years without going crazy,” Rose said, then amended, “well, crazier than hanging out with spirits in general...”

The kirin nodded, and I considered her words. “Your daughter...” I thought of the little filly with the bright red mane. “She was the foal who gave me the necklace.”

“Yes,” Autumn Vigil said with only the slightest hint of sadness in her voice. “Blaze. Named after her grandmother.”

I looked into Autumn’s eyes and saw the eyes of the little filly looking back at me. “She’s a beautiful girl,” I said in a whisper.

At once those yellow eyes filled with tears, and she wiped them with a hoof. “Yes she is,” she said. “I just wish I could have seen her grow up...”

And with that, the three of us fell silent, listening to the soft crackle within the stone fireplace, as we imagined a world that could have been...

Children of the Wasteland indeed.

Footnote:

Quest Perk Added: The Kirin’s Song
You’ve heard (and sung) the kirin’s song. Spiritual and divine affinity has increased, and you are considered a friend of the kirin people.

Author's Note

This was a really fun chapter to write, and is still one of my favorites, despite being several chapters ahead in writing. There were a few things that I kind of wanted to expand on more, but they weren't really relevant to the story and the chapter had already become quite long... Nevertheless, I hope you guys enjoyed it as much as I did~

Thanks again to Artimae for helping to make Invicta better. This chapter had a little shout to him and his story "Cape and Cowl" that he co-wrote with Post Script. Check it out here~ It's definitely a good read!

And finally, thank you to everyone who gave the story an upvote and left a comment. I love you all!

~ Forest Rain

Chapter 4: Something’s Off in Ophir...

Chapter 4: Something’s Off in Ophir...

“That’s the old passage to Ravenholm... We don’t go there anymore.”
- Alyx Vance

Rose and I trotted side-by-side along the dusty road, much as we had a week ago as strangers. Now, however, we did so as friends.

A gentle wind blew at our backs as the sun worked hard to penetrate the clouds. The rains from the past few days had moved on, and while there were still the occasional puddle and downed tree limb from the storm, the skies were as clear as they got in the Wasteland. A gentle gray patchwork of clouds tried it’s best to block the beams of sunlight that snuck through.

As we walked, I thought about my experiences over the past several days. I had found that leaving Autumn Vigil’s home was difficult for me... Far more difficult than I had ever imagined leaving a place could be...

~ * ~ * ~

“Where will you go?” Autumn asked as I was packing my saddlebag. I held the tattered blanket that I had used to patch Rose up, and considered possible uses for it, before setting it aside.

“I wasn’t sure at first, but I think I’m going to head towards Silverhoof,” I said. “It’s supposedly where I grew up, and where my parents found me. They have a secret stash on the outskirts of town… if it’s still there, I might be able to discover more about them, or who I was, or just find some memento of my parents’ earlier life…”

The kirin appeared at my side, holding a blanket within her mouth: a very cozy-looking hoofcrafted blanket that burst with all the colors of autumn leaves. “For you,” she said as I gently took it from her, “since you sacrificed yours for your friend. May your kirin brothers and sisters watch over you as you sleep.”

I ran my talons over the soft yarn, and marveled at the complex geometric patterns that were woven into it… Holding it to my chest, I looked into the old kirin’s eyes. “Thank you.”

She smiled, then turned, glancing back at me. “There is more,” she said as she gestured for me to follow. We trotted over to the ladder that led up to her loft bedroom and she began to climb. I simply stood there for a moment until she called from the top, “Come.” I climbed up the ladder behind her.

The loft was a beautiful but tiny space, filled with memories. Her bed was ornate and intricately carved with patterns outlining various scenes of kirin lore, none of which I could understand or interpret, but nevertheless I could appreciate the artistry woven into them. The stand next to her bed was similarly decorated, and several types of candle holders sat upon it, as well as a prayer book.

She walked over to a dresser on the far wall that hosted several picture frames, a stack of drawings, and a beautiful antique box. Several kirin appeared in the photos, but the most prominent was a picture of Autumn Vigil’s daughter, Blaze. She looked exactly as she did during my vision, and was happily staring just above the level of the camera.

Standing behind the kirin, I watched silently as she ran a hoof along the edge of the photo frame before opening the antique box. She shifted the contents with a hoof, then pulled a piece from it and turned to face me. In her hooves she held the very same orange and turquoise bear claw necklace that her daughter had placed upon my neck during my vision the night before.

“It’s… real!” I gasped as I studied the necklace. It was similar in every detail.

“Yes,” Autumn said as she gazed fondly at the piece of jewelry, “Blaze made it just after her fifth birthday… two weeks before she died.”

I fell to my rump and looked from the necklace to the face of the kirin. In that moment she looked… old. Weary. But the wrinkles around her eyes disappeared as she smiled and returned my gaze. “It is yours,” she said.

Tears threatened the edge of my vision as thoughts of the little filly placing the necklace around my neck filled my mind, and I shook my head as I stared at the floor. “I can’t… I can’t take that from you. Your daughter--”

“Chose to give it to you,” she said as she approached. She tilted my head up with a hoof, then clasped the necklace around my neck, just as her daughter did. “And I have learned that it is unwise to deny the will of the spirits… especially when that spirit is my daughter.”

I looked at her through tear-filled eyes, and I could swear I saw a little filly with a blazing red mane standing just behind her. I wiped my face with a foreleg, but only Autumn stood before me.

I grasped the necklace with a talon and looked down at it as Autumn spoke, “Bear is the protector: a leader with great courage and strength. He is agile, strong, and quick-- much like you. By wearing his claw, you shall be protected and guided by his spirit.”

She clasped her hooves over my talon and the necklace. “And you shall carry the spirit of my people with you.” Her yellow eyes blazed as she spoke, “Be strong, but kind. Command authority, but listen. And rely on your friends to catch you as you fall, and stand with you against adversity.”

All I could do was nod as she released my claw and walked past me towards the ladder. She turned before climbing down. “And don’t drink all the tea at once.”

With a confused glance I looked down at my talon and discovered that I was holding a small sack of the divine leafy mixture. I did the only thing I could possibly do in that moment: cry like a blubbering foal.

~ * ~ * ~

As we walked, I felt the weight of the necklace around my neck, and I couldn’t help but smile.

“Are you getting all emotional over that tea again?” Rose asked from my side.

How the hell?

“What!? No…” I lied, then turned to her as I asked, “how the hell do you know that?”

She giggled. “You get all misty eyed and do this weird smile…” I tried my best to wipe the weird smile off my face… unsuccessfully. “Yeah, like that!” she chided, then started laughing. I responded in the most reasonable fashion I could: by punching her in the shoulder.

“Ow! What the hell!” she shouted through laughter. It was going to be a long day.

Silverhoof was a long ways away from Autumn Vigil’s cabin, and we would have to travel through several mountain towns and into a valley nestled deep within the Smokey Mountains to get there. The clearest path began by heading up towards Hoofstrap Junction, a small town on the road to Ophir.

Rose’s stable suit had taken a beating. One side of the torso was shredded and cut away, revealing the bandages she still wore underneath. I had offered to fit my armor to her, but she refused and said she had the benefit of S.A.T.S. and the ability to operate at a distance. She also pointed out that having armor on a melee fighter would be a smarter move, and I couldn’t disagree.

Thankfully, the road was relatively quiet, with only the occasional bloatsprite, radrat, and radsnake to offer their services as target practice. At one point we heard a howling in the distance and stopped dead, expecting another run-in with the coyotes, but after several tense minutes with no sign of any hostiles, we relaxed and continued walking along the dusty trail.

It was late afternoon when we finally came upon a split in the road with a sign that read: “Hoofstrap Junction: Your gateway to shit beer, ugly fillies, and an overpriced mattress.” A spray-painted arrow pointed in the direction of a road that wound down the canyon towards a large wooden arch.

“Sounds like home,” Rose said sarcastically.

‘Home’ had never been a word I assigned too much significance to, but as Rose said it, I couldn’t help but think of Autumn’s log cabin. I wondered if the old kirin was feeling a little extra lonely now that we were gone, and I made a mental note to return if we were ever in the area again.

As we walked down the winding path, two guard ponies by the arch straightened up and readied their weapons. An old stallion held a small caliber varmint rifle, and a young filly held a six-shooter that seemed far too big for her.

“Hyoold it right thar!” drawled the olive filly in an accent that was entirely too thick. “What’s yer bissnisss in these parts?”

“Just passing through,” I said, trying to remain as casual as possible. “Looking to trade. Materials, armor, healing potions…”

The young mare paced back and forth in front of us while twirling the revolver. “Is thyat sooo,” she said with a twang. She continued to pace back and forth in front of us for several moments without saying a word, and the silence grew awkward.

Rose and I exchanged a glance. What the hell is wrong with this filly? I looked towards the older stallion with the rifle, and he just looked back at me with an amused expression and shrugged. “We uhh...” I coughed.

“Could also use a drink,” Rose added with a shrug.

“A drink!” the guardfilly said, holstering her revolver. “Well we here in Hoofstrap Junction got the best damn moonshine y’all ever did taste, if I do say so myself! Y’ever try RadAway hootch!? Whew-ee, it’s a kicker! Almost as good as Uncle Touchy’s Shine!”

I stammered, “Uncle… Touchy’s…”

“Sounds perfect!” Rose said with a grin.

The guardfilly smiled in return. “Well shoot, y’all just trot right up the main road here and enter the two-story building with the green shutters on the right. And if y’all can’t handle it, there’s beds and buckets on the second floor-- 20 caps a night. Y’all take care now!”

With that, we trotted through the wooden arch. As we passed, I caught a glimpse of the filly’s cutiemark: a half-full mason jar with a white lightning bolt behind it. I guessed she had some kind of inherent bias when it came to the drink trade in this town.

“What the hell just happened?” I asked.

“I saw her cutiemark while she was pacing and thought maybe I could relate to her through drinks,” Rose said with a shrug. “Worked better than I expected.”

I smiled. That move was exactly the kind of thing my father would’ve done. He was always good at talking his way into and out of things.

The main road was lined with buildings on both sides, but as we trotted through the town, I noticed that most of the doors and windows were boarded up, and there wasn’t a soul to be seen. “Hey,” I said, “is it just me or is this place kinda--”

“Empty?” Rose said. “Yeah.”

“Maybe they’re all at the bar?” I suggested. We pushed through the doors of the two-story building with the green shutters and walked into the dingiest, saddest, and most vacant alehouse ever to exist in the history of the Wasteland.

The walls were covered in torn wallpaper, blackened like tar, while chairs and tables of all different materials, sizes, and states of disrepair littered the space haphazardly. We dodged errant furniture on the way to the bar at the back as my hooves and talons stuck to sticky spots on the floor.

Seeing as how there were no seats at the bar, we sat at a nearby table. When I rested my talons on the tabletop it tilted violently, almost knocking Rose in the chin. Looking down, I found the table leg was hovering above a missing floorboard. A mysterious black void sat beyond the hole in the floor and I was convinced some sort of nefarious creature was going to slither up through the opening and bite my face off.

“Eyy Boyo, what can I do ya ‘fer!?” a young filly’s voice shouted, and I jumped, slamming my head on the table. I swore and rubbed my head as Rose tried in vain to stifle her giggles.

“Ow… just a--” I looked up at the barkeep and nearly fell out of my seat. It was the olive-colored guard filly with the mason jar cutiemark, only now she was now wearing an apron and a plaid flat cap. “You...”

She rested her elbow on the table, leaning on a hoof as she spoke to Rose in an accent entirely different from the one she had before. “Your boy’s a wee bit strange, in’he? On a bit of a bender?”

I was terribly confused, but Rose didn’t miss a beat. “Naw, he’s sober. Just a bit of an idiot.” She smiled at me and I grumbled, rubbing my head. “Got any rye?” she asked.

“Aye,” the filly nodded, then turned towards me. “And fer you?”

“Just water,” I muttered, “unless you got a Sunrise Sarsaparilla.”

The filly grinned. “I do indeed! That’ll be six caps fer the both of ya.” Rose slid her the money and the filly disappeared into the back.

“Okay, something weird is going on here,” I said. “That, or I hit my head entirely too hard.”

Rose smirked. “As much as I would like to lead you on and make you believe that you’ve gone crazy, I’m… inclined to agree.”

The filly trotted back and set down a glass of rye and a Sunrise Sarsaparilla. As she did, I got an idea. “Hey, I don’t suppose this town has a trader?” I asked.

“Of course!” the young mare replied. “Ol’ Trader Smith. He’s in the faded red buildin’ cross the way.”

“I don’t suppose you could convince him to come over? I’ve got a lot of caps and stuff to trade, but my head hurts reeeal bad from smashing it on the table, and Rose’s legs are all wobbly from walking all day...” Rose gave me a flat look from across the table.

“I... I’ll see what I can do fer ya,” the filly said as she trotted out the front door of the bar and into the building across the road.

The two of us nursed our drinks for a moment before Rose spoke, “Do you think..?”

“Wait for it,” I replied with a grin.

The olive filly walked through the front door wearing a dirty and tattered suit jacket and a fake white beard that was so bad it couldn’t fool a foal at Hearth's Warming. “Well good day to you!” she said in an awful Trottingham accent. “That lovely young filly from the pub informed me there were strangers who wished to trade, but were unable to make it across the road.”

“Yes, absolutely!” I said. “Though, why hasn’t the bar filly returned with you?”

The filly in disguise stammered for a second. “Ah, yes, well, uhm. You see she... fell down.”

“Oh no!” Rose said melodramatically. “Is she alright!?”

“Oh-- yes! Quite alright,” she replied, “just uhm… resting, the poor dear.”

I reached over to the ‘old man’ and pulled the beard from her face. She stepped back in surprise. “Come on, we knew it was you the whole time,” I said. “Your cutiemark doesn’t change, and this beard is awful.”

Tears filled her eyes as Rose trotted up and punched me in the shoulder. “Way to go, Sherlock,” she admonished. I rubbed my shoulder.

“Hey,” Rose said, kneeling down in front of the teary-eyed filly. “We’re not mad. We just wanna know what’s going on. Where is everyone?”

“Disappeared…” she said, quietly. We trotted over to the table and the three of us sat.

“It started with Rye and Pepper… They went up to Ophir to make a delivery, but never came back… Then Uncle Mill went up to investigate, and he came back all shaken up, telling stories about some conspiracy up there. Organized the townsfolk into a militia, and they all went to go get Rye and Pepper back…”

“How long ago was that?” I asked.

“Almost a week,” the filly said. She wiped her eyes with a hoof, then looked up at me. “Something’s off in Ophir… but I don’t know what. And I’m stuck here with grandpa, trying to run the whole damn town by myself…”

“Well, if it’s any consolation, you made a damn good attempt at it,” I said. The filly gave a small smile in return. “We’ll see if we can help. What’s your name?”

“White Lightning,” she replied.

* * * * *

“Argh, why does it have to be so tight?” Rose asked with a whine as she squirmed and wiggled within the barding we got from Lightning.

“It was either a little tight, or way too loose,” I said as I quietly took a small amount of joy from watching her squirm. “And you don’t want loose. It’ll hinder you more than protect you. Plus, I should be able to let it out once I can get my talons on some supplies.”

Rose lowered her head and stared up her nose at me with a disgruntled look. “You’re enjoying this.”

“A little,” I admitted with a grin. Rose growled. “But at least you won’t get ripped to shreds if you get tackled by another wild animal.”

“I’ll show you tackled by a wild animal...” Rose muttered quietly.

The trek up to Ophir from Hoofstrap Junction wasn’t terribly long, and we still had some light left as we emerged on a trail just below the town.

Ophir was much larger than Tiny or Hoofstrap Junction. It was built on the ridge of a mountain and several two and three-story buildings loomed impressively at the edge, overlooking the ridge and valley below. The trail wound its way up to an arch within the stone wall that circled the town, wide enough to fit a large wagon.

As we trotted through the arch, I didn’t see any guards, but several ponies milled about on the lantern-lined street. I tried to strike up a conversation with an earth pony mare that was carrying a basket of greens, but she ignored me and picked up her step as she rushed away.

Suddenly, there was a flash of light as a tall, impressive unicorn stallion appeared before us. He wore a flawless navy suit that perfectly complimented his blue and silver mane and offset his impeccably maintained dark charcoal coat. He gazed upon us with a pair of pale blue eyes, set below an impressively sturdy horn, and he wore a practiced smile as he spoke.

“Hello my friends! Welcome to Ophir, City of Plenty! I am Veritas Azure, Mayor of Ophir, Bringer of Peace, and Latent Prince of the West.” He flashed a million cap smile as he raised a hoof towards himself. “But titles aren’t important! You must be famished from your journey. Our inn is just over here, up the steps from the square.” He gestured grandly towards the building. “It features comfortable beds and a five-star view, and if you’re hungry, there is a wonderful restaurant on the ground floor. I highly recommend the steak. And please, if you have any questions about our most wondrous town, don’t be afraid to ask! Pleasure meeting you both!”

With a smile and a wink, he was gone as fast as he came, vanishing in a flash of ice blue light.

Rose and I just stood there dumbfounded for a moment, until Rose turned to look at me. “Did I just hallucinate an absolutely stunning unicorn stallion?” she asked.

I returned her gaze. “Uhh… Well... I’m definitely stunned.”

“Oh good,” she said. “I thought I had finally lost it and slipped into some kind of blissful psychosis.” We walked up the steps that led to the grand three-story building that overlooked the ridge. “He was hot, though, right?”

“Rose...”

“Just a little?”

I sighed. “Just, remember why we’re here.”

“Right,” she said as she brushed the mane away from her face. “Find Lightning’s townsfolk, then chase after the ridiculously handsome prince.” I facehoofed.

The inn was surprisingly swanky for the Wasteland, both inside and out. Rich carpet led from the front entrance down into a large restaurant and pub called “The Grotto” that was surprisingly vacant. A stage with an upright piano sat on the far wall, with a wide dance floor in front of it.

We trotted over to a solid mahogany bar where a griffon bartender stood drying a glass with a towel. He wore a smart pinstripe vest and his silver feathers were perfectly groomed. He greeted us as we approached.

“Howdy folks! Lookin’ to eat, or just want drinks?”

We ordered a couple sodas and an order of hayfries, then I gestured to the room. “Is it usually this empty?” I asked.

“Naw… usually we got a few folk, but it’s been unusually quiet the past couple weeks. Must be a seasonal thing,” he replied with his smooth mountain accent. He popped the caps off our sodas, slipping them coolly into his vest before sliding the bottles with two glasses towards us.

We nursed our drinks as we made small talk with the friendly griff. I was overjoyed to hear that there was a blacksmith in town, and Rose was excited to learn there was a large unicorn population, including the Mayor Prince and his two royal brothers that he governed the town with.

As our hay fries arrived, I asked about the group of ponies that had come up from Hoofstrap Junction, but the bartender simply shrugged. “Don’t recall nothing like that…” He looked me up and down for a second. “If they came inta’ town, they didn’t stop here at the inn.”

I nodded as Rose and I chowed down. These fries were actually really good! The bartender’s gaze lingered on me for a moment as he cautiously spoke, “May I ask you a… personal question?”

“Sure,” I said with a mouthful of fries. “Shoot.”

“What… exactly are you? You look like a griff, but your crown is more mane than feather, an’ your rear legs have hooves… Are you some kind of pony-griffon hybrid?”

I smiled, “I’m a hippogriff.” I raised a back leg and looked at my hoof. “So… you’re basically right, I suppose.”

Having never met another hippogriff, and knowing nothing about my biological parents, I couldn’t do much more than speculate about what I was. I had always assumed that my biological parents were a griffon and a pony.

The bartender returned a smile. “Well… whatever you are, you’re mighty fine, if you don’t mind me saying. I’d love to take a flight with you an’ give you a private tour, if you’d like.” He blushed slightly, and I choked on my mouthful of hay fries.

I swallowed as my coat turned from stone gray to pink. “I-- well, uhh. Thank you!” I stammered. “You’re a… mighty... fine griffon yourself.”

I facehooved internally. Smooth, Storm Mist. Smooth.

Rose just broke out laughing and I excused myself to use the little colt’s room.

* * * * *

After the debacle at The Grotto, Rose decided to get us a room and freshen up on the off chance we ran into any more unicorn princes, while I went to scope out the smithy with the hope that I might be able to establish a relationship with the owner and possibly work out access to use the workshop.

I saw several residents on my way, but once again every pony I tried to talk to refused to speak with me and walked briskly away. Either this town hated outsiders, or something was up...

A familiar heat surrounded me as I stepped through the entrance of the smithy, and I relished the smell of metal and leather. An old unicorn with a planishing hammer for a cutiemark turned and looked at me with wide sunken eyes.

“Oh! Uhm… terribly sorry! I was just closing for the day,” he said as his magic closed the door of the forge.

“That’s okay,” I said with a smile as I looked around the workshop. “Maybe I could help you clean up?”

He looked me over with a pair of old jade eyes. “Well now, there’s something I don’t usually hear from a client. They usually can’t stand the heat for more than a couple minutes.”

I chuckled and slowly walked through the shop, appreciating the vast amount of tools that were set on work surfaces and hanging from hooks on the walls. “I grew up with this heat,” I said. “My father was a smith.” My eyes were drawn to a piece that was mounted high on one wall: a war hammer that shone with polished steel, a richly stained oak handle perfectly fitted into it and reinforced by steel langets.

The old unicorn smiled as he walked over. “You’re a smith’s son!” He raised his gaze to the warhammer on the wall. “And with good taste too. Most ponies just want armor and firearms. There’s not many who appreciate finely crafted tools…”

At once his expression turned from joy to worry as he whispered to me, “Do yourself a favor, son… Get out of Ophir, as soon as you can.”

I looked at the smith. “Why? I was told an entire militia from Hoofstrap Junction came up here and just… disappeared. What’s going on in this town?”

He averted his eyes from my gaze. “I… I can’t say. If the Mayor knew I was talking to you, I--”

“The Mayor?” I asked. “He’s part of whatever is going on here?”

“I… I’ve said too much. Please, just leave Ophir... and carry on our trade,” he whispered. He started to push me towards the door and spoke loudly, “I’m sorry I just can’t help you tonight-- we’re closed! Come back tomorrow and I’ll see what I can do!”

I was shoved out onto the lantern-lit stoop as the door to the smithy closed firmly behind me. Something in this town scared the smith half to death, and somehow the Mayor Prince was involved…

I looked at the buildings lining the street and got the distinct impression that behind every shuttered window and closed blind was a resident silently watching me. I shuddered and shook my head before deciding that it’d probably be best to meet up with Rose and plan our next move.

As I entered the inn, I was greeted by a young colt at the front desk. “Mister Storm Mist?” he asked.

I nodded. “Yes?”

“Here’s the key to your room,” he said as he passed me a small key on a lanyard. “Miss Rose asked me to make sure you got it. You’re in room three, upstairs and to the left.”

I arched an eyebrow. “Is she not here?”

“N.. No sir,” he responded with some mild hesitation.

I leveled a stare at the young colt. “Then where is she?”

He coughed and stammered. “Well, uhm... sir, I can’t say…”

“Can’t say... or won’t say?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.

“Well sir, “ he responded, “I cannot divulge private information about one of our guests, even if said guest is staying in the same room… Our mandate clearly states that--”

As he spoke I rapidly lost patience. I was sick of getting stonewalled by the ponies in this town, and I wasn’t about to take it from some snotty nosed runt in a vest. I slowly extended my blade-tipped wings and glowered down at the colt as I spoke in a low, slow tone. “Where… is… Crimson… Rose?”

He gulped, then whispered quickly, “She left a little while ago with Vino Rosé.”

“Who?”

“One of the Mayor’s brothers--”

Fuck.

“Where’d they go?”

“A.. As they were leaving, I heard Vino s-say something about Il Capezzolo del Cavallo. It’s a fancy restaurant in the upper end. Please, sir, don’t hurt me!”

I folded my wings in and smiled at the colt. “Thank you!” I tossed a cap his way, then walked out with the lanyard twirling on the tip of a wing. I was pretty sure I heard the poor kid faint behind me. Hippogriffs can be every bit as scary as unicorn mares when we want to be!

As I approached the restaurant, I was struck by how quiet everything was. The town was easily three times as large as Hoofstrap Junction, but every bit as silent. My hoofsteps echoed off the walls of the surrounding buildings as I walked towards the restaurant’s entrance. Just above, a grand neon sign glowed with pale aquamarine italics: “Il Capezzolo del Cavallo”

As I stepped through the front door, I was greeted by an entirely vacant restaurant. The tables were arranged in rows, all with matching chairs that were neatly placed around them. There wasn’t a single sign of activity, nor smell of food. If Rose and Vino had been here, they hadn’t eaten, and they weren’t here now.

I slowly made my way to the back of the dining area and stepped into the kitchen. Again, no sign of anypony here. The counters were clean, food was stocked on the shelf, and pots and pans hung from a rack affixed to the ceiling. This kitchen was immaculate… and it was giving me the creeps.

As I neared the end of a prep table, I discovered a plastic cooler. Shifting the lid, I fully expected to find a severed head or something similarly shocking, but it was filled only with some kind of salted meat. I sighed.

As I turned to look around the corner, my hind leg knocked a soup ladle off the edge of a counter, and it fell to the ground with a resounding clatter that split the tense air. I held my breath.

Damnit! This is the part where a hundred ferals crawl out from under every counter and rip me to pieces.

I heard a banging noise in the distance. Yup, here they come...

But nothing came. I looked around, then picked up the spoon. Out of some kind of strange curiosity, I knocked it against the tile floor. From somewhere in the distance, I heard the sound again: Bang, bang…

I knocked it against the tile again, three times.

Bang, bang, bang…

Oh. That’s a neat trick. “Hello?” I asked the floor.

I walked around to the back of the kitchen and found a door with a latch that had a padlock on it. I gently rapped on the door with the ladle and heard the banging noise again, but closer. It sounded like it was coming from beyond the door.

I threw down the spoon and grabbed my axe. With a quick blow at the proper angle, the entire latch assembly was removed from the door. I eased it open and found a dark wooden stairwell leading down into a cellar that was lit with a dim light. The smell of rotting flesh assaulted my nostrils and I coughed and turned away for a moment. With a sigh, I started down the creaky stairs, quietly swearing to myself with each step.

“Celestia… damned… creepy… ass… kitchen… with… creepy… fucking… stairwells…”

The cellar was made of rough stones patched together with mortar, and as I crept into the first small room, I found the source of the stench: the blood-soaked body of a pony was strewn across a stainless steel table, her chest cut open and several body parts missing, a set of steel knives resting on the table beside her. Behind the table, a section of hide was stretched across the wall, the poor pony’s cutiemark barely visible in the dim light: a jar of orange jam with a tilted spoon. On the floor, a bag of salt sat beside a pail that was overflowing with the mare’s insides.

What kind of sick creature would do this? I couldn’t help myself as I retched up the hay fries from earlier. They weren’t nearly as delicious coming up as they were going down.

A knocking noise from behind a door to my left made me jump, and I readied my axe as I composed myself. With a shout, I kicked open the door and took a step into the room, stopping dead as I stared at the figure across from me.

From the other side of the dark room, a ewe stared back at me with two heads, and two sets of teary eyes. She was chained to a set of pipes that rose from the floor and exited into the ceiling, and both her mouths were gagged. As she saw me, she let out a whimper from one of her heads, while the other reared backwards, knocking against the pipe twice as she looked at me with pleading eyes.

Bang… bang…

Oh… I dropped my axe and rushed forward, untying her gags. “What happened to you?” I asked.

“Cannibals,” she blustered. “They’ve been kidnappin’ anyone who finds out! They took Marmalade and River, and they’ve been killing everyone! There’s a whole damn society of them, and they-- they--”

“Shh,” I said. “Slow down… who did this?”

“The Mayor’s brothers!” she yelled, and a chill went down my spine. “Vino and Ino. They’re the heads of a group that’s been slaughtering ponies and eating them!”

As she spoke, I looked over the chain that was binding her to the pipes. It was a simple small-gauge twisted link chain; should be easy to break. The small sheep began to hyperventilate.

“Hey, hey--” I said, “I’m gonna get you out of here, okay? What’s your name?”

Her breathing calmed and she replied, “Dolly.”

“Alright, Dolly… I’m going to cut the chain, okay? I’m gonna need you to shift over as far as you can, and I’ll hit it with my axe. Got it?”

I received a two-headed nod, and she shifted to the side as I grabbed and raised my axe. “Alright ready? 1… 2… 3!”

I brought the blade down on the chain and with a shower of sparks, it broke apart. Dolly looked herself over to make sure she was still in one piece, then enveloped me in the fluffiest hug I had ever received in my life.

“Alright, alright… you’re welcome,” I choked out, buried in wool. “Now, what can you tell me about the Mayor and his brothers?”

Apparently, the three brothers had shown up out of the blue a few months ago, declared rule over the town and started making improvements. Most townsfolk simply went along with it, because it seemed like things were shaping up for Ophir. Trade was good, buildings were being repaired and upgraded… But then townsfolk started disappearing. One at a time at first, then more. Then two weeks ago a pair of traders came up from Hoofstrap and promptly disappeared as well.

“Sheriff Boot was on their tail for a while,” Dolly said, “but he must’ve got too close. He shared details with a few of us before he disappeared. Each of the brothers specialize in a different type of magic: telekinesis for Ino, manipulation magic for Vino, and Veritas is a master of illusion. Their society is a dozen ponies or more now... Chances are if you’ve run into anyone who seems scared out of their minds, they’re one of us. But anyone who isn’t, well... they may very well be one of them.”

I thought of the blacksmith trying to warn me away from Ophir, then of the suave griffon bartender...

Damn it! Had he been an agent for the Mayor? Was he scoping me out for an easy meal? I left Rose all alone in a hotel with a psychopath cannibal, and now she had been taken...

“Dolly, they took a friend of mine… Do you have any idea where they might’ve taken her?”

She shook her head. “No but--”

We were interrupted by the sound of hoofsteps on the floorboards above us. I raised a talon to my beak in a shushing motion as I took up a flanking position beside the door, then indicated to Dolly that she should stand where she was previously chained.

“Have you escaped, little lamb?” a smooth, melodic voice asked from upstairs. I heard heavy hoofsteps on the creaky stairs, and readied my axe. “Lamb chop,” the voice called from the other side of the door. Dolly’s eyes were wide in terror and I shivered. The door creaked open, and a dark green unicorn stallion entered. “There you are.”

As he stepped through the doorway, I crashed into him from the side, wrapping my forelegs around him in a headlock as I held my axe to his face. “Don’t move an inch,” I snarled.

The unicorn chuckled with his annoyingly melodious voice. “I wouldn’t dream of it! ...What do you want?”

“I want to know where you’re keeping your prisoners.”

“Ah, but it seems you’ve already found my prisoner.”

“Your other prisoners,” I growled, and the unicorn just laughed in my face. “What the hell is so damn funny?” I asked.

“Oh, just thought of something father would say…” He spoke with a sinister tone, and despite being held in a headlock, not a muscle in his body was tense. “Don’t bring an axe to a knife fight.”

All at once, his horn lit up and I felt an icy spear of pain explode in my right shoulder as a steel knife barely missed my head. I screamed out as it buried itself into a section of mortar a foot away from Dolly.

Shit!

I jumped back from the open doorway, and whirled my axe towards the stallion. Another steel knife flew in from the table in the other room and parried the blow. As the stallion stood, a low laugh escaped his lips, and he brushed his black mane away from his eyes. He stood tall and dignified, wearing a bloody patchwork apron adorned with various cutiemarks. The steel knife rotated slowly in front of him, and I guessed that I was looking at Ino, the brother that specialized in telekinesis.

“You know,” he said with his creepy melodic voice, “I haven’t tasted turkey in a long time.” He licked his lips as he looked me up and down and I started to shake with adrenaline and anger. “A very long time.”

I wish I could say that I said something witty, but I just screamed like an idiot and rushed him with my axe. Two more knives from the other room flew in front of the stallion, and parried every attack I threw. Despite unleashing a flurry of blows with my axe, the unicorn's telekinesis was too fast and accurate, and it felt like every move I made was like molasses to him.

The three knives circled menacingly in front of him as he spoke, “Alright, my turn.”

Suddenly, the three blades were all flying directly at my face. I jumped back and swiped at them with my axe, knocking one out of the way, but the other two had changed directions mid-air. One sliced across my foreleg, and the other ripped at the left side of my barding.

I swapped to a one-talon grip and unsheathed my combat knife, holding it in a reverse grip with the blade resting in front of my foreleg.

“Aah, adaptation!” the stallion cheered as the knives returned to their menacing slow circle in front of him. “Very good! Very good… but not good enough.”

He advanced, and knives flew at me from every conceivable angle. I was left completely on the defensive: as I would parry one blade, another would cut at my legs, or slice away at straps on my barding. Within short order, I was backed against a wall, flailing desperately as every exposed part of my hide dripped from bleeding wounds.

The stallion leaned his head in towards me and spoke with a surprisingly minty breath as I continued to parry and block his knives in vain. “And this, little turkey, is why unicorns are superior. A lesson for you to take into the afterlife... before I carve you up and serve you to my beloved guests. Farewell.”

All at once, his knife attacks ceased as he stared at me with wide eyes. For a moment I thought I was dead or hallucinating, until I saw Dolly’s faces, wide with terror. Her hooves were wrapped around the hilt of a knife that was buried deep in the unicorn’s neck, just below his skull.

I kicked the stallion back and swiped at him as hard as I could. Axe met horn and there was a brilliant flash and a sickening crunch as the blow severed the magical appendage from his head. He collapsed to the ground, wide-eyed and bleeding from his neck and horn.

My axe clanged to the floor, and I dropped to my knees, crawling over to the dying stallion. “Where,” I asked as I panted hard, “are the… other... prisoners?”

The green stallion just stared at me with wide eyes as he took several ragged gasps. His horn sparked as he bled out from the wound in his neck, and his breathing slowed.

“Where are the fucking prisoners!?” I screamed at him, tears blurring my vision.

I collapsed on the floor beside him as the life slowly drained from his pale blue eyes and he took his last ragged breath. Dolly quietly watched from the other side of the room and wiped tears from her eyes with a woolly leg.

For several minutes, I just laid on the floor bleeding quietly. Eventually I dragged my ass up, fished around in my bag for a healing potion, chugged it down, and felt my wounds begin to close. They hurt like hell and bled profusely, but were thankfully superficial: I somehow managed to get through the ordeal without any serious damage. My barding, however, was in a sad state, and would need to be repaired.

“Do you have any allies who haven’t been captured?” I asked. Dolly’s gaze remained fixed on the dead stallion. “Dolly!”

Her heads snapped up to look at me as she gave them a shake and blinked hard. “Sorry,” she replied, “yes… there’s still a few of us.”

“Good… we’re gonna need all the help we can get.”

Footnote: Level Up.

New Perk: Infuriating Defense
You fought a unicorn knife fighter and survived! Your ability to dodge or parry melee attacks has increased.

Author's Note

It was really tough to move on from Chapter 3, but I'm glad we were able to go back to Autumn's cabin briefly and wrap things up with her for now. I consider this chapter to be the first half of a two-part arc revolving around Ophir, so a lot of it is setup for the events in Chapter 5. Hopefully it's still enjoyable though!

Once again, thanks to Artimae for assisting with the edit, and to all of you for continuing to read and enjoy Invicta~ Thanks for being awesome! <3

~ Forest Rain

Chapter 5: A Rose By Any Other Name

Chapter 5: A Rose By Any Other Name...

“Longing makes the heart grow fonder, but I’ve always been a fan of hog-tying my lovers to make sure they don’t escape.”
- Beatrix Russell

For the second time this evening, I stood in the town smithy. I was surrounded by citizens of Ophir-- those who had the courage to stand up against the tyrannical brothers who had a stranglehold on this town, and those who were too scared of a future where nothing was done about it. Unfortunately, it seemed that the vast majority were in the latter category.

I was immensely relieved when I saw the suave griffon bartender. I had been worried that his calm, smooth demeanor was an indication that he was part of the conspiracy, but it seemed that he was a high-ranking member of this resistance, and his smooth mannerisms served as social armor, protecting him as he gathered intelligence.

As the townsfolk assembled, I quietly admonished myself for letting my guard down and leaving Rose at the inn alone. I had left her open for Vino Rosé to target her, and because I did, she was taken. I silently vowed to make up for that mistake once she was safe...

Fortunately, our resident griffon bartender (whose name I learned was Sterling) saw the event and followed them out. They had indeed started walking towards the restaurant, but before reaching the upper end, they turned and headed to an old industrial building on the north side of town.

“Your arrival was a lucky break for us,” Sterling said, “but unfortunate for you an’ your friend.”

“Rose is a smart mare… and scary good in combat. Why would she just follow him into such a place?”

“It’s his special talent. He excels at manipulative magic… ‘specially with mares. He could sweet talk pretty much any lady he likes into doing whatever he pleased.”

I thought about the implications and shuddered. Was he abusing Rose now? Forcing her to sleep with him? Worse?

Rage boiled inside me, but I bottled it, letting the pressure build so I could release it all on that lecherous unicorn’s face the moment I got the opportunity. He was going to pay.

“I tried to warn the boy,” said the old smith as he gestured towards me, “though, I guess it was too late even then…” He turned to me and put a hoof on my shoulder. “I’m sorry you got dragged into this…”

I returned the gesture with a claw, and smiled. “In my nature I guess… I don’t think I could just turn around and leave, knowing that folks are disappearing, even if Rose was safe.” I turned to the assembled crowd. “I’m with you. All of you.” I got several worried nods in return.

One pony from the crowd spoke up, “And just who the hell are you anyway? And why should we trust you?” Several citizens mumbled agreements and quiet questions.

“Well, I--”

I was interrupted by a female voice that rose easily above the crowd. “He’s the pony that saved me.” Dolly trotted up beside me and addressed the group. “I had been kidnapped and chained in a cellar. This griff cared enough to come find me. He cut my chains loose, fought Ino blade-to-blade… and won. He’s a hero.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but she gave me a look that made me pause. I couldn’t help but think about her plunging that knife into the unicorn... She delivered the final blow. Without her, I probably would’ve been chopped up and packed into a cooler by now! The crowd murmured among themselves until Sterling commanded their attention.

“Alright,” he said, “here’s what we know: Storm Mist’s friend was taken by Vino Rosé to this buildin’ in the old industrial district.” He pointed a talon at the map laid out on a workbench. “The Ophir Post. It’s an old newspaper printin’ plant-- three stories, plenty of space inside, an’ off the beaten path. There’s several armed ponies who patrol around the perimeter, occasionally entering and exiting. We think it’s likely that this is their primary holdin' facility... possibly their headquarters.”

A voice interrupted from within the crowd. “Do you think anypony’s still alive?”

Sterling hesitated a moment, then spoke, “I hope so.”

The crowd once again devolved into nervous chatter.

“Look folks,” Sterling continued, “all we’ve got is hope. An’ a little bit of intel. Nobody’s forcing you to help with this op, but if an’ when you see your loved ones or neighbors again, wouldn’t you rather tell ‘em that you helped to get ‘em back?”

The crowd quieted.

Sterling nodded, smoothing his feathers. “Alright then. Here’s the plan: There’s a roof access on the top of the buildin' that isn’t guarded. Storm Mist and I will fly up an’ gain entry. Our primary objective will be to stealthily assess whether or not our folks are being held there an’ if Vino or Veritas are onsite. Eagle Eye will be stationed as a lookout at the factory across the street on the western side. If this op is a go, we’ll give you the signal.”

A brown unicorn with golden eyes nodded from within the crowd.

“At that point the rest of you will act as ground forces an’ subdue the guards patrolling the building. Take keys if they got ‘em. If they don’t, Iron Jade, Meringue, an’ Clover all have lock picking abilities, so make sure one of you is near each entrance.” There were three nods from ponies in the crowd, one being the smith. “Communicate with each other, an’ breach as a team. Hopefully we can keep the fightin’ to a minimum. Questions?”

After a moment of nervous chatter, somepony asked, “What if we encounter Veritas or Vino?”

“Engage,” Sterling said without hesitation. “If you’re able to subdue, get a horn lock on as soon as possible, but I’ll take ‘dead an’ harmless’ over ‘alive an’ deadly’ at this point. If it comes to a fight, we want to keep the brothers separated. They’re far too dangerous together.”

After a moment with no more questions, the workshop suddenly became a flurry of activity. Weapons were passed out and armor was fitted. I helped several ponies with the straps of their barding before Iron Jade trotted over to me with a full set of lightweight armor floating in his magic. “For you,” he said.

I undid the few intact straps I had left, and my barding fell to the floor. I couldn’t help but look it over with a sad gaze. I had crafted it with my father, and now it was in complete and utter disrepair. As the old smith worked to fit the new barding to me, he must’ve caught the look, since he placed a hoof on my shoulder. “Don’t worry, son. Once this is over, we’ll fix it up good as new.”

I nodded and gave the smith a small smile, then sighed as I placed my ruined barding in a corner of the shop. It had been a long day... and it was going to be a longer night.

* * * * *

Sterling and I decided to fly from the smithy towards the town gate in order to gain some altitude, then change course to the north and come in high over the production plant with the hopes that we could move in unnoticed.

While flying was a natural thing for me, my wing blades proved to be a bit of an impediment. I had to work harder to keep up with the griffon, who was as elegant in the air as he was behind a bar. He had traded his smart vest for a pocketed flak jacket, and wore a beautiful master-craft leather shoulder holster with a pair of sizable, firmly secured pistols, one on either side.

“You know,” Sterling said, gliding easily on the wind, “when I said I’d love to give you a tour, this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.”

I laughed. “You were very convincing.”

“How so?” he asked.

“You wanted to assess whether or not I was a threat right? Scope me out?” I beat my wings a bit harder to keep up with the griffon.

“Oh, I was definitely scoping you out,” he said with a smile as he tilted his wings up slightly to slow his pace, taking a position directly beside me. “But not for any tactical reason.”

Damn, this griffon was smooth. “So, you actually think I’m--”

“Incredibly cute?” he interjected with his silky mountain voice. “Yeah… I mean, for a hippogriff.” He gave me a teasing smile as we banked towards the north.

...Very smooth.

To be honest, I had never really thought about relationships. I always longed to be around others because my parents, especially my father, were very isolationist, and wary of ponies… I wanted to explore and find new creatures and new cultures to learn from, but they wanted to protect me… So the thought of entering a relationship had never really crossed my mind. I don’t even know what I’d want from one!

The griffon must’ve noticed my introspective silence because he was looking at me with concern. “Hey now, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he said, “an’ if I did, I’m sorry. Really.”

“No, no,” I said quickly, “I just… Sometimes I forget how sheltered and weird my childhood was, compared to a lot of ponies… And I don’t really know how to act.”

Sterling gave an understanding nod. “Well, the only advice I can give is this: Do right by your folks, an’ do right by yourself. Not much more to it than that.” He idly scanned the streets below us. “I just try to be honest with myself an’ others.”

“Must be hard... I mean, for a spy.”

“Well,” he responded with an amused grin, “the polite term is ‘intelligence officer’. But yeah… used to be a merc for a big operation out east.”

“You seemed to be unusually good at this stuff… What made you come all the way out here?” I asked as we descended towards the roof.

“World is crazy east of the Gorge. You wouldn’t believe some of the things I’ve seen over there. I wanted to get away.”

We landed quietly on the roof and folded in our wings. Sterling undid the latches securing the two pistols on his shoulder holster and reached back to make sure his magazines were still easily within reach.

“And now you’re here,” I said as I checked my gear as well, “doing another op.”

“Yup...” he replied with some degree of resignation, “but I’d rather be doing this for these folk than workin’ for some bully who just wants power, an’ leads from an office.”

I smiled. Despite living in a world filled with monsters, taint, and distrust, there were good creatures out here helping each other, and keeping the Wasteland at bay.

Sterling moved to the roof entrance and tried the handle: locked. He took out a bobby pin and screwdriver from a pocket in his flak jacket and started to work on the tumbler. Within short order, I heard a soft click as the lock bent to the will of the griffon.

I readied my axe and Sterling pried open the rusty door: nopony in sight. Just a narrow metal staircase that led down into the building. We quietly made our way in, and down.

The third floor seemed to be an endless maze of halls and offices. We would creep along a hallway and quietly push in door after door to find long-abandoned rooms that had been trashed. Many offices had their desks upended with faded papers and decaying furniture strewn about. However, we found no ponies-- neither hostages nor hostiles-- and it seemed the floor was mostly empty.

As we rounded a corner and started down another hallway filled with doors, something made me stop. Sterling followed suit, and gave me a questioning look. “What is it?” he whispered.

“A feeling...”

It was a sensation that I couldn’t quite describe-- similar to the warmth you feel on your back when you find a ray of sun to stand in… or a wave that sort of reverberates around you. I turned around and looked behind us.

The corner wasn’t just a right angle turn: it was a three-way intersection, and we had somehow missed the hallway behind us that housed only one door. I quietly approached it, then tried the handle. It was locked.

“Huh, didn’t even see that there,” Sterling said as he retrieved his screwdriver and bobby pin.

“Me neither, at first.”

After a moment, Sterling popped the lock and we carefully opened the door. Inside we found an office much like the others, but it looked completely untouched. Newspaper clippings lined the walls, fresh as the day they were printed; several filing cabinets chock full of folders, old articles, and notes sat in a corner; and a bookshelf sat on one wall with various non-fiction works about economy, housing development, home repair, and various industries, along with several old-world trinkets that littered the shelves in between the clusters of books.

“Huh,” Sterling mumbled as he looked over the room. He then turned and watched the entrance as I moved to inspect a broad desk with a typewriter on it. A blank piece of paper was threaded into the machine, and a brown box sat next to it, the lid tossed to one side.

Inside the box I found a small statuette in perfect mint condition: a cyan stallion with an amber mane, beard, and tail that stood triumphantly upon a black pedestal. The stallion held a sturdy shovel that he leaned against his shoulder, and a tiny plaque affixed to the base read: “Stay Strong”.

As dumb as it sounds, I felt empowered holding the little thing, as if the statuette's message was written just for me. I figured nopony else was going to stumble their way into an easy-to-miss office that had been preserved for 200 years and so I quietly slipped the little pony into my saddle bag and trotted out with Sterling.

“Find what you were lookin’ for?” he asked.

“I think so,” I replied. I had no idea what made me stop and turn around, but I was glad I did.

It wasn’t long before we cleared the third floor and made our way down a flight of stairs to the second. There seemed to be a lot more space on this floor as several clusters of rooms were all spread apart. We trod quietly through a large area that was filled with desks and chairs, many that were toppled, and vast amounts of decaying paper coated everything like a fibrous snow.

As we approached the next cluster of rooms, we heard a muffled voice from behind a door that was labeled “Boardroom B”. A frosted window was set in the wall beside the door, and a light colored figure moved past it from the other side as we approached. Sterling and I sat just outside, straining to listen.

“Ah, my dear, why not try the tête de veau avec sauce ravigote? It is a pain to cook, and takes a skilled chef, but it is a delicacy that most ponies in the Wasteland would never have the opportunity to try!”

“Vino,” Sterling whispered.

Rose!

I smashed open the door, axe in claw. Inside there was a long table that was absolutely covered in plates of steaming food. Pies, roasts, rolls, soups, and salads of all sorts filled the table, while at the very end stood Rose, only she didn’t look like herself at all.

She wore an elegant red ball gown that wrapped tightly around her. The lace trim perfectly accented her figure, and rubies shone from within the long skirt of the dress. In truth, she looked beautiful in it, but something was wrong. She sat with a vacant stare, her mouth parted slightly, and her eyes were obscured by an unnatural pink haze. It was hard to tell if she was alive or dead, but I saw the smallest movement from her shallow breathing.

Standing to her side was a white unicorn with a lavender and pink mane who had the same pale blue eyes as his brothers. He wore a gaudy white outfit laced with spun gold, and his horn was glowing with sickly pink magic. As soon as he saw us, he levitated a steak knife to Rose’s throat and moved behind her.

“Stop right there!” he said with an obnoxious Fancee accent. I wasn’t able to distinguish whether it was authentic or not, but I doubted it. I also didn’t care. He took Rose. He needed to pay.

Sterling leveled his pistols at the stallion, one per claw, and spoke in an unnervingly calm manner. “Sir, you’ve got two Clydesdale 1911 Luna Edition pistols chambered in .50 Starline aimed at your head. I highly suggest you cooperate an’ let the filly go.”

Those pistols were nothing to be scoffed at. They were large and ornate, built from a surprisingly rustic material for the refined griff. They seemed to be made of some kind of stone, right down to the hammer.

“Ah, but monsieur,” Vino replied, “I cannot let someone go who is here of their own free will! Tell them, darling.”

Rose stood and addressed us with a flighty robotic tone. “I am here of my own free will.”

They began to back towards the door on the other side of the room in tandem, Rose’s steps perfectly mirroring those of the stallion as she stared vacantly ahead. I took a step to follow, but immediately stopped as he pushed the knife hard enough against Rose’s throat to draw blood.

“You fucking monster!” I swore as I began to shake with rage.

“Ta Gueule!” he retorted. “It seems you are a bit hysterical, non? Perhaps you and your marefriend should work this out between the two of you?”

I narrowed my eyes and tightened the grip on my axe.

He leaned in close to Rose’s ear, and with a sick smile whispered, “Kill him.”

With inequine speed, Rose bounded straight over the table like a bullet, pulling a knife that had been stuck into a roast out with her teeth before tackling me to the ground. My axe clattered to the floor, and I was barely able to hold her head far enough away to prevent her from gouging out an eyeball. During the commotion, Vino had ducked out the back.

“Go!” I shouted at Sterling. “Get Vino!” He gave me a worried glance before giving chase to the fleeing unicorn. While I was momentarily distracted, Rose swiped her head and caught me in the cheek with the knife, right below my eye. Fuck! I had to find a way to stop her without hurting her…

I wrapped my hind legs around one of hers and pulled with all my might, causing her to crash to the floor on her side. Her grip momentarily loosened on the knife, and I was able to pull it free from her grasp and throw it across the room. Unfortunately, now she was snapping at me like a feral, and it was all I could do to get my talons out of the bite zone before I was several digits short.

We wrestled on the floor for a moment before I was able to push her into the hallway. I frantically looked around for anything I could use to subdue her, assessing the paper-strewn hallway filled with doors until something caught my eye.

Hold on a tick! One of those doors looked to be a janitor closet, and a keychain with a ridiculous number of keys hung from the lock in the door. I had an idea, but it was a long shot...

I kicked Rose back, then jumped to my hooves and opened the door to the closet as fast as I could. Just as I looked back, Rose was mid-jump and coming straight for me. I grabbed her as she made contact and rolled onto my back, planting my rear hooves into her stomach and kicking her over me as I rolled.

She flew from my hooves and smashed upside-down into the back wall of the closet, destroying several shelves with supplies in the process, before landing head-first in a mop bucket. I slammed the door behind her and turned the key, panting from the struggle. There was a noisy clatter followed by hooves striking the door several times, but after a few moments, everything went still.

I let out a long sigh, and slipped the keychain into my saddlebag. As much as I wanted to save her, we had to take care of Vino first. I’d have no way to get her out of this place in this state... Plus I wanted to smash that stupid Fancee fuck’s face into pulp.

I shook my head, then ran in the direction that Vino and Sterling went, grabbing my axe on the way. Two beefy gunshots boomed from down the hall, and I made haste towards them. As I entered a large executive office, I nearly tripped over one of Sterling’s pistols, and found the griffon and unicorn were wrestling on the ground. Sterling was on top with claws wrapped around the unicorn’s throat, and Vino’s horn was glowing.

“You will… release… me…” Vino said, his hooves trying in vain to push away Sterling’s claws, as a pink haze worked its way into the griffon’s hazel eyes. His talons loosened somewhat, but Sterling doubled down his efforts as he spoke with a pained expression, “I… will… not!” His eyes briefly met mine, and the unicorn smiled.

“Then... don’t,” Vino choked, “instead… shoot… him!” Vino’s magic flared, and Sterling began to reach for his pistol.

I closed the distance and smashed the blunt side of my axe into Vino’s face, and he was knocked out cold, his horn going dark. Sterling breathed a sigh of relief as the spell was released and I stood there, shaking. Make him pay. I raised the axe again.

“Whoa! Hey-- stop!” Sterling said as he put his claws up and moved between me and Vino. “I know you want him to pay for what he did, an’ he will. But there’s no honor in killin’ a creature who’s knocked out!”

I don’t want honor. I want revenge. I didn’t even notice I had tears flowing from my eyes as I held the axe high with both claws. I slowly regained control and lowered it to my side. Sterling slipped a horn lock onto the unicorn, then clapped him in hoofcuffs.

“We gotta move fast now,” he said, “they’ll know we’re here.” I nodded, and we hurriedly stuffed the unicorn into a closet full of wires and junction boxes that I secured with the keys I had found.

Sterling picked up his dropped pistol and ran to a window, shattering it with an elbow as he pulled an apple-shaped object from his vest. He pulled the stem with his beak and dropped it through the opening. A whoosh sound echoed from below, and I saw thick smoke begin to rise.

“That’s a hell of a signal,” I said. Sterling grinned in response.

We hurried towards the stairwell, but as we rounded a corner that was occupied by a machine with several stacks of paper on it, gunfire rang out and bullets whizzed past us. We crouched down behind the machine and an overturned desk as several ponies with firearms in their teeth advanced from the top of the stairwell.

I groaned and muttered, “I hate guns.” Sterling just laughed as he leaned out from behind the cover and took several incredibly loud shots back at the ponies. I heard one of them fall to the floor and begin screaming.

“Oh, they’re not so bad,” said the griffon as he released an empty magazine and inserted a full one in one smooth motion. “Elegant, powerful… as much a reflection of who you are as how you style your feathers, or the clothes you choose to wear… an’ they work just as well up close as they do from afar!” He spoke about the weapon with a refined ease and reverence, even as the injured pony wailed from behind us.

“But they’re so damn loud,” I replied.

Sterling grinned, “That’s part of the fun!” He racked the slide, then turned and advanced towards the ponies, taking several more shots. I couldn’t help but follow as he systematically took down threat after threat.

To our left, I was suddenly aware of an earth pony that had flanked us, aiming her rifle at Sterling. I ran, crashing into the pony, but not before she got a shot off. I grappled with the firearm that was still tightly held within her teeth, then swung my axe towards her head. She raised a hoof to block the blow, but it cleanly chopped into her leg, stopped by bone. She cried out in pain and the rifle roared, firing into the ceiling. Bits of tile and dust fell down upon us like heavy snow.

I kept my grasp on the weapon and curled into her side, heaving on the barrel, and throwing the pony to the floor. I pulled my axe out of her hoof and readied a blow as she brought the rifle around to point at my face. Without hesitation, I brought the axe down with all my strength.

There was a metallic click from the gun just as my axe chopped cleanly into the pony's skull. Blood seeped from around the blade of the axe while the rifle, still clenched within the mare's teeth, pointed straight at me. She had either run out of ammo or the gun misfired, but regardless, I was still alive. After a moment, she slumped and the weapon hung loose within her jaws.

I slowly pulled my axe free from her head, and blood pooled around the mare. As I stared at her broken face, I thought about how killing ferals was easy. They were essentially already dead and had lost any trace of themselves or who they were. When I gave a feral mercy, I knew I was bringing them peace… but ponies were different: they stared at you in fear as they died.

I felt a claw on my shoulder, and turned to see Sterling. “You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah.” I shook my head and turned towards the griffon. Blood was trickling down one of his forelegs.

“You’re hurt!”

“Through-an’-through,” he said. “I’ll be fine. Come on.”

We exited the stairwell onto a landing that overlooked a vast factory floor. Machines with great rollers and mechanical appendages stretched into the room, corroded badly, and decayed paper product hung off the things like the rotted clothes of a corpse.

Between the machines, groups of ponies traded shots at one another, and several bodies lay on the floor with pooled blood around them. One cannibal had inexplicably abandoned his firearm in favor of chowing down on one of his fallen compatriots, and he gnashed and pulled muscle and sinew from the side of the corpse with a ravenous frenzy.

I turned to say something to Sterling, but he already had a pistol in claw. He steadied his aim by laying his firing leg over the wrist of his other leg, and he leaned into the railing in front of us. The pistol roared with impressive force, a lick of flame exploding from the barrel, and down on the factory floor below us a cannibal pony’s head exploded into mist.

For a moment, it seemed like all shooting stopped… then, all at once, every weapon was trained on us as bullets whizzed by, raining into the landing, wall, and railing. We ducked down and retreated back into the stairwell as various calibers of bullet ripped and ricocheted through the catwalk.

“Is there a plan?” I asked.

“I’m hopin’ that created enough of a distraction to give our guys the upper claw,” Sterling said as he reloaded. “We should be able to move in a moment.”

True to his word, the gunfire on our position decreased dramatically as our forces advanced on the cannibal ponies and started taking them out. We were just about to step back out to the platform when a loud voice suddenly filled the room.

“WHO KILLED MY BROTHER!?”

Directly before us, hovering over the factory floor, was Veritas Azure. His easy smile had been replaced by a clenched jaw, and his eyes narrowed into an enraged stare. His horn glowed with a fierce icy blue, and his body coursed with ripples of magic as his voice boomed with a volume that felt like he was speaking through a public address system.

“Which one of you dirty, spineless mountain goats forfeited your meaningless life by plunging a knife into poor Ino’s back!?”

All at once, shots rang out from the factory floor and impacted into the concrete ceiling directly above where Veritas was hovering. Bits of rubble fell from above him, but he didn’t so much as flinch, and appeared to be completely untouched by both the barrage of bullets, and the falling debris.

“I see…” he said, and there was a great rumble as the rotted paper hanging off the machines coalesced and morphed into massive ghostly vines that exploded out of the machines in every direction and wrapped around every creature who had been standing below. Several ponies were picked up and held tightly with their legs dangling high above the floor.

“It wasn’t us!” a pony shouted from the far side of the room. The vines curled around him even tighter as they moved his body into view of the hovering unicorn. “I-- Ino was on our side! None of us would hurt him!”

The hovering unicorn narrowed his eyes. “As if I care about your ridiculous cult. Where is Vino? Perhaps he has some answers for me…”

The captured pony stammered, “I… uh, I’m not sure... Perhaps he--”

“Then you’re of no use to me.”

The vines suddenly surged, slamming the pony into the ceiling with enough force that the building shook. As they released, all that was left was a bloodied spot on the concrete.

Veritas spoke with a dangerous tone, “I’ll just have to systematically kill each of you until somepony has some worthwhile information… starting with you.” The vines raised another captured creature, only this time it was a small two-headed sheep with a look of abject terror painted across both her faces.

“It was me!” I shouted before I was even aware of what I was doing. My body moved onto the platform and I stood facing the powerful unicorn. “I killed Ino.” The vines holding Dolly lowered her slowly, and Sterling moved to my side.

“You?” The unicorn laughed a heartless, empty laugh as he levitated himself closer. “Of course it would be the outsider. A cowardly hippogriff murderer…” He hovered a few feet from the railing, staring through me with his piercing azure eyes. “How is it that you exist, anyway? I thought your people were extinct.”

“I...” I stammered, unable to think clearly, “I don’t really know…”

The unicorn shrugged. “No matter. We’ll fix that easily enough.”

Ghostly vines exploded from both sides of the floating figure, rising from the machines below us. They shot towards me so fast, I had no time to react. I barely lifted my axe in defense when Sterling shoved me out the way, and I fell to my side on the metal floor of the platform.

The vines captured him and lifted him into the air, but just as soon as they did, I heard the familiar roar of his pistols. His shots seemed to penetrate the vines as if they were made of smoke, and long tendrils of corkscrew vapor painted the trajectory of his bullets. The vines dissipated enough for him to drop free, and he landed easily on the far side of the catwalk as I got to my hooves.

I heard Veritas speak again, but it was far less loud and reverberant, and it came from directly behind me. “Ugh, how annoying.”

I turned around just in time to see the charcoal unicorn slam his rear hooves into my chest. I was shoved backwards over the railing and began to fall. My wings opened out of instinct, which helped to slow me, but I still smashed into the hard concrete floor below, pain erupting from my side.

The air in front of me shimmered and the unicorn appeared, walking towards me with a confident stride. I staggered to my hooves and extended my wings. “Don’t bother fighting,” he said as he approached. “It’s futile: I always win.”

Somehow, I didn’t doubt him, but like hell if I was going to go out without a fight! I swung a talon at the unicorn, but he blocked and grabbed my forelegs with both hooves. As my claws wrapped around his forelegs, a flash of energy erupted between us.

The magical energy crackled and burned with a strange glow, like a blue and green mist that threatened to envelop both of us. My skin felt ice cold on the surface, but inside it felt like it was boiling! Both his limbs and mine began to blacken, as if raging ink was spreading within our veins.

I looked up just in time to see the unicorn’s surprised expression. He suddenly jerked his hooves away and jumped back, his face painted in disgust as he hissed, “Child of Invicta!”

...What?

Once again, I heard the sound of Sterling’s pistols, and the unicorn screamed out as a round penetrated through his left eye and exited his lower jaw. Blood cascaded from his face as he recoiled, and I saw the air begin to shimmer. I reached out a claw to grab him as fast as I could, but only managed to grasp at empty air as he vanished completely. The vines that had emerged from the machines dissipated into dust, and several ponies dropped to the ground.

Sterling winged his way down from the platform, gliding to a stop in front of me. “Damn, Storm, what a show!” he said with a smile. “I had no idea you were capable of fightin’ with magic!”

“I’m... not,” I replied as I shook my head. “I have no idea what just happened…” I stared at my forelegs for a long moment. Despite the encounter with the weird magical energy, my limbs seemed to be unharmed.

“Sir,” a pony from our group approached and addressed the griffon, “we’ve got the cannibal ponies contained, and we found the prisoners in a maintenance room in the basement. Iron Jade is working on the lock, and we should have them out soon.”

Sterling nodded, but I just stared off as hoofcuffs and horn locks were clasped on several ponies. Thoughts of the sickly energy that erupted between Veritas and me flashed through my mind, and I couldn’t help but wonder what the hell just happened.

...And who is Invicta?

* * * * *

Rose did not appreciate coming to in a janitor’s closet. As we had circled back to collect Vino Rosé, we were confronted by a very disgruntled mare wielding a very floppy mop with her magic. Sterling almost shot her before collapsing with laughter.

We were able to free a sizable number of prisoners as well, including the majority of the militia group from Hoofstrap. They tried to explain their encounter with Veritas and his brothers, but the things they described mixed with the experience I just had made my head hurt.

Sterling, with the help of several of Ophir’s deputies, imprisoned the cannibal ponies as well as Vino. Oddly enough, I could swear I saw the pony who Veritas had smashed against the ceiling with his ghostly vines. Did I just hallucinate that part?

I don’t know… I need a drink.

Thankfully, I wasn’t the only creature who felt that way. The word was passed around that everypony who was able should meet at The Grotto after taking care of medical concerns and returning equipment to Iron Jade’s smithy. And so it was that Rose and I were walking along the torch-lit streets of Ophir in the wee hours of the night.

“And what did he say before he got shot, again?” Rose asked.

“Child of Invicta... Beforehand, he acted like he didn’t know or care who I was… but as soon as he tried to grab me and that energy coursed between us, it was like he knew me…”

Rose stared at the ground and kicked a small stone as she walked. “So, who do you think Invicta is?”

I shook my head. “I have no idea… Veritas disappeared before I could get any answers from him...”

Down the street, a group of ponies laughed from in front of the inn, and I could hear the faint sounds of music. Rose suddenly slowed her step and stopped, staring hard at the ground. Her normally bright crimson eyes were little more than a dull red as torch light reflected off the tears that swelled within them.

“I’m such an idiot,” she said sullenly as a tear rolled down her cheek.

“What? Why?” I asked as I sat in front of her.

“I let that creep Vino control me… I let him lead me around like a stupid puppy dog following his every command!”

I shook my head. “You couldn’t help it,” I said quietly. “He’s a master of manipulative magic…”

“Even so,” she said, “when he first showed up at the inn, I fell for him. I wanted to follow him. I was so blinded by the fact that he was a handsome unicorn… a prince…” She sniffled and wiped her nose. “I was even willing to overlook his ridiculously stupid accent.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, and she laughed with me, despite the tears. “And the name! What was I thinking?” she asked. “Rose and Rosé?”

I smirked. “Yeah, I don’t think I could have dealt with that… There’s only space enough in my life for one pain in the ass named Rose.”

She choked out a laugh as she punched me weakly, then butted her head against my chest in weak surrender. I wrapped my forelegs around her and held her as she quietly cried. After a minute or two, she pulled away, and wiped her nose with a hoof. “Ugh, I’m a mess.”

“Aren’t we all?”

She looked up at me with a sad, hopeful look, her focus shifting from one eye to the other, before giving me a little smile.

“Alright,” she said as she turned and nodded towards the inn down the street. “Let’s get a drink.”

* * * * *

The Grotto was nearly unrecognizable from the quiet, vacant restaurant that we had stumbled into just a half day ago. Creatures packed the space, excitedly talking and cheering, their roar of happy chatter competing with upbeat music that was blasting from a jukebox. Some ponies had taken to the dance floor, which had been lit by several colorful lights that flashed and moved.

The sight of so many creatures all in one space who were happy to be free and alive brought tears to my eyes. If there was ever any doubt as to what we were all collectively fighting for in the Wasteland, it was this. Comradery… family… just being able to live without fear.

We were a couple drinks in before I heard a cheer near the entrance, and saw a familiar suave griffon in a smart pinstripe vest weaving his way through the crowd. He smiled as he saw Rose and me, and stopped by our table.

“Well howdy, stranger!” he said as he wrapped a wing around me in a hug.

I smiled and hugged back. “Nice of you to show up.”

“Yeah, I had a few odds an’ ends to tie up,” he said, then turned to Rose who was glaring daggers at him, “an’ I suppose I never formally introduced myself.”

“No, you were too busy laughing at the crazy mare with the mop,” Rose said between gritted teeth.

Sterling tried his best to stifle a laugh. “Well, I couldn’t help it! You were just so adorably intimidating.” Rose growled in response. “But I brought a peace offering.”

He rummaged around in his bags and pulled out a bottle of Griffon Creek Distiller’s Straight Rye Whiskey, and Rose’s expression softened immediately as she grasped the bottle in her magic. She popped the cap off, closing her eyes as she took in the aroma. She poured some into an empty glass, and brought it to her lips as she slowly took a pull of the rye.

“Oh,” she said, then took another sip. “Oh yes, this will do.” She looked at the bottle as if she had just been reunited with a long lost love. “So… you said something about formal introductions?”

The griffon flashed a luminous smile and bowed grandly. “Sterling Silver, at your service.” He gave me a wink.

“Sterling…” Rose said as she poured more of the liquid into her glass. “Perhaps we can be friends.”

Damn, that griffon was good.

“So,” he said, turning to me, “is there anythin’ I can get you? A drink? Private cuddle flight over the town?” He smiled wryly. “Promise not to ruin the moment by stormin’ an enemy compound again.”

I chuckled. “A beer would be great, Sterling.”

The griffon sighed, but the smile never left his face. “It’d be my pleasure.” He disappeared off in the direction of the bar, and I laughed to myself, then looked over at Rose, who was staring straight at me.

“So…” she said, swirling the glass around in her magic, “you and our impeccably dressed griffon bartender, huh?”

I blushed as I responded, “He’s… very persistent.”

“And charming,” Rose added.

“And charming.”

“And… cute?” I squawked, losing several feathers in the process, and Rose laughed. “Yup, you definitely think he’s cute.”

“I…”

I didn’t really know what I thought. Rose’s crimson gaze twinkled mischievously from over the floating glass of rye as Sterling returned with my beer and some kind of fancy mixed drink for himself. As he took a seat at the table, Rose leaned over and sidled up to him.

“So... when are you two gonna do it?”

Sterling did a spit take, and several of his feathers popped out of place. I had been so used to seeing him as suave and composed, or capable and commanding, but this was the first time I saw him flustered... And he was kind of cute.

The griffon recovered swiftly, however, and he smiled and smoothed his feathers back down as he spoke. “Well… that is something that’s entirely up to Storm Mist. I think he knows how I feel.” Both he and Rose turned their attention towards me and my blush deepened. I averted my eyes and took a long swig of beer.

He chuckled as he continued, “Though, to be honest, I don’t think I have much of a chance next to you.” He cast an amused glance at Rose, who suddenly froze.

“What?” she asked, the glass of rye as still as death within her magical grip.

“You shoulda’ seen him. He tracked down that restaurant, fought an’ defeated Ino, an’ rescued one of our citizens in the process… He came back from that fight all cut an’ bloodied, but still had the will to storm the Ophir Post buildin’ with us. As soon as he heard Vino’s voice, he kicked in that door with the vengeance of a thousand suns. Barely had time to unholster my pistols.”

Rose lowered the glass to the table and sat stunned as she looked at me with glassy eyes. Sterling just gave me an easy smile, before turning his gaze towards Rose.

“Vino manipulated you into attackin’ him, but Storm did everythin’ he could to make sure you’d be alright. When he found me, I was fightin’ a losing battle with Vino’s magic… He saved me,” he said, giving me a small nod, “but he almost took Vino’s head clean off... for you.”

I was just as stunned as Rose. I couldn’t believe the griffon was talking so highly of me, considering I felt like I barely contributed at all! Sterling was amazing, and it was because of him that we all got out of there alive. I didn’t really save anyone! But he was right about one thing: I absolutely would’ve taken off Vino’s head to make sure he couldn’t hurt Rose.

The crowd by the door let out a roar of cheers and hoof stomps as another group entered. Sterling looked towards them, then downed his fancy drink. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got some more folks I need to embarrass!” He placed a claw on my shoulder and gave me a smile before walking away.

“You... really did all that for me?” Rose asked, her eyes shimmering in the soft glow of the candles that burned silently on the table.

I lowered my head. “I… couldn’t stand the thought of him hurting you.” I stared into the flickering flame for a moment before continuing. “You said you felt like an idiot for letting him control you...” I looked into her eyes as tears began to form in mine. “And I feel like a failure for leaving you alone, and letting him take you.”

“Storm Mist…” Rose whispered with a compassionate understanding.

She tilted her head and thought a moment before speaking again, “Remember when I said I’d tell you about my past if you bought me a drink?” I nodded, and she raised her glass. “I’d say this counts.” She took a sip, then topped up the glass with more Griffon Creek. I listened quietly as I nursed my beer.

“I grew up in a research stable, tasked with monitoring the outside world to assess habitability. We were supposed to help Stable-Tec make an informed decision about when it was safe to start opening stables again… but our Overmare didn’t seem to agree with the assessment from our scientists, and we were stuck perpetually observing the Wasteland without participating.”

She paused for a moment, her gaze wandering. “I was a teacher… and my sister was part of the research team. I saw what was happening out here: raiders killing folks in derelict towns, ponies dying of starvation and infection… but I also occasionally saw those who would stand and fight against the Wasteland, and I was inspired.

“I wanted to do something,” she said, her crimson eyes blazing with passion, “not just sit idly by in my cozy stable as I watched this world destroy itself... So I made a plan to escape. When my sister found out, she was furious. Tried to talk me out of it, but I was dead set on coming out here, and I pleaded with her passionately... Somehow, I managed to convince her of the merits of leaving the stable, and she agreed to help me escape, on the condition that she came with me. And so the Rose sisters became known as the Defectors of Stable 131, and Scourge of the Wasteland!” She grinned.

“The Rose sisters?” I asked.

“Yeah...” Her gaze settled on me for a long moment. “My name isn’t actually Crimson Rose.”

I shook my head and asked, “Then… what is it?”

“Quartz Rose,” she replied. “Crimson Rose is… was… my sister.” She took a long sip of rye, “Crim was super smart. Good at everything… Pick any lock, hack any terminal… She always knew what to do... Always knew what was right. I once asked her why she insisted on coming with me, and she said ‘Because nopony should have to face the Wasteland alone...’ She was my hero... and she became my inspiration... When she died I decided to take her name and vow to spend the rest of my life trying to live up to it.”

I remembered those words from when she broke down at Autumn Vigil’s cabin, as well as the sad expression she wore. Now I had some idea as to what that expression really meant.

“Well, Quartz or Crimson, you’re still ‘Rose’ to me,” I said, placing a talon on her hoof. “And I think your sister would be proud.”

Rose smiled. “I think you two would’ve got along,” she said, “though she probably would’ve gone through with taking Vino’s head off.”

I laughed, then peered at the crowd as I finished off my beer. Sterling was excitedly talking with several ponies from across the room when suddenly the music from the jukebox lowered, and a colt’s voice rang out from the stage: “Laaaaadies and gentlecolts! It is my absolute pleasure to introduce our home town darling: the leader of the flock; a ewe with the voice of two; our wonderful wooly wonder-- Dolly!”

The Grotto erupted with a cheer the magnitude of which I had never heard in my life. The room was pure energy as every creature leapt to their feet, and began to stomp and cheer, crowding around the stage.

Rose and I exchanged a look, then got up and moved to the back of the crowd as we strained to see. The little two-headed ewe exuded confidence with every step as she took to the stage and stood behind a rather vintage-looking microphone.

“Who the heck is that?” Rose asked.

“She’s the one I rescued from that cellar,” I said breathlessly.

Dolly smiled out at the crowd. “Hi, I’m Dolly,” she said with a wide grin, and the crowd responded with cheers and whistles.

Rose bumped my flank with hers. “You rescued a celebrity?” she asked with a grin.

“I guess,” I said with astonishment.

The sound of the old upright piano suddenly filled the room with the first honkytonk notes of an upbeat tune, and the crowd cheered again as Dolly began to sing with a voice as sweet as butter:

“Tumble from my bed stumblin’ into the Wasteland
Couldn’t be further from grass in the Heartland
Oh, sweet Luna what a time to be alive!”

The crowd cheered and stomped in time as Rose leaned in. “She’s good.”

I smiled broadly. “Yeah, she is!”

Dolly continued singing, her auxiliary head lending a harmony:

“Bullets from raiders make the blood start pumpin’
Gotta move fast, better get used to runnin’
Cuz life in the Wasteland’s like this from morn’ to night!”

I grinned like an idiot as the music kicked up, and I was unable to keep my hoof from stomping in time.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to start dancing again,” Rose said with a sly grin.

I met her gaze with my own mischievous grin. “Actually, I think I am… And you’re coming with me!”

Her look of terror was lost upon me as I grabbed her hoof with a talon and dragged her into the crowd. We weaved our way to the front of the stage and started dancing with the other ponies.

“Tryin’ to survive-- what a place to make a livin’
Barely gettin’ by-- it’s all takin’ and no givin’
I just don’t know why-- you always lose it when you get it,
It’s enough to drive you crazy if you let it!”

All the craziness of the Wasteland was forgotten as we danced like madponies. Despite the lyrics, the upbeat nature of the song had everypony up and on the dance floor. I laughed and stretched out my wings, and Rose ducked under one as she circled around me, moving to the beat of the music. Her ruby eyes shone through the reflections of the colored lights as she beamed at me.

We were surrounded by ponies: ponies who had lost family, ponies who had lost friends, and ponies who had lost limbs. But as I looked at the faces surrounding me, not one had a frown. I saw joy and hope… For a short time, we had truly locked the Wasteland outside the doors of the inn, and we were happy.

As the piano slammed home the last chord, Dolly bowed, and Rose and I joined in on the cheering from the crowd. After a moment, the pianist started in with a slow ballad, and Dolly sang the first few long notes.

The crowd around us started to clear the dance floor to make room for couples to slow dance, and I started to walk back to our table before I felt a tug on my tail.

“Just where do you think you’re going?” Rose asked, her horn aglow.

I turned around to face the devious mare. “I… don’t really do slow dances."

Rose snorted, then smiled, “You do now.” She slowly approached until she was very close. “Just follow my lead,” she said with a whisper.

She nuzzled into my neck, and I lowered my head until my chin touched the top of her head. We began to slowly step to the music, rocking back and forth gently as Dolly’s tender voice flowed over us. I felt the reassuring heat of Rose’s body against mine, and was pleasantly surprised when I detected floral tones within the scent of her mane.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Sterling. He stood with a group of ponies by a table, holding a glass filled with an amber liquid and a green leafy garnish. He smiled broadly as he watched us, and lifted his glass towards me before taking a sip.

As Dolly’s beautiful two-voiced harmonies swelled, Rose wrapped her hooves around me, pressing her cheek into my neck. A beautiful warmth spread throughout my body, and I couldn’t help but smile. I raised a foreleg and wrapped it around her, my claw gently gliding along the back of her neck and stroking her mane. It was a delicate balance as we rocked slowly on the dance floor, but our limbs moved instinctively in harmony.

Rose sighed into me, her warm breath sending tingles racing down my spine. I shivered, and heard her giggle in response. I wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol, the exhaustion, or just my imagination, but I could swear her hooves gripped me tighter.

For a moment I thought about how I had almost lost her. Despite the fact that she was amazingly skilled and powerful with a confidence that was unmatched, she was still just one pony. One pony I knew I didn’t want to lose… and I silently vowed that I’d never let anything like that ever happen to her again. I would keep her safe... and I knew she would do the same for me.

I gripped her tighter as we swayed to the beautiful lingering notes of an ancient melody, and a part of me wished that the music would never end...

Footnote: Level Up!

Trait Discovered: Child of Invicta
…?

New Perk: A True, True Friend
You’ve developed a strong relationship with your companion. Damage resistance and morale increases for both of you when fighting alongside one another.

Statuette Discovered: Rockhoof
Permanently gain +1 STR.

Author's Note

This was a beast of a chapter, but that ending though! I was so happy to finally expand a bit on Rose's past and get Dolly onstage. The lyrics are set to the tune of Dolly Parton's "Nine-to-Five", for those who may have missed the references~

Thanks once again to Artimae for helping to proof this chapter, Kkat for creating FoE and giving us all a crazy sandbox with which to play in, and you all for giving Invicta a chance! Thank you so much~

~ Forest Rain

Chapter 6: The Heart of Ophir

Chapter 6: The Heart of Ophir

“There is nothing I wouldn’t do for those who are really my friends. I have no notion of loving people by halves; it is not my nature.”
- Jane Austen

At the stroke of noon, Vino Rosé was publicly executed by the citizens of Ophir, hanged by the neck in front of a crowd of his victims and their families. Say what you will about Wasteland Justice: it may be harsh and rather archaic, but if nothing else, it’s quick.

According to several folks who were close to the gallows at the time, Vino begged for his life as they placed the rope over his head, and lost his Fancee accent in the process. So it was fake. Go figure.

Rose and I weren’t there. We had been sleeping off the alcohol from the night prior when there was a knock at our door and Sterling’s voice asked if we were going to attend. Rose groggily shooed him away as I groaned and held a pillow over my head. I had absolutely no interest in witnessing an execution at the moment, and honestly, I was just happy that the ordeal was over and Rose was safe.

Plus I had an awful headache. Why did I drink so much again? I muttered and drifted off back to sleep.

* * * * *

Some time later, I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and rolled out of the bed, dropping pillows on the floor and banging a rear hoof against the nightstand. For once, Rose had gotten up before me. She was sitting at a desk by the window with the bolt-action rifle disassembled before her.

“And so he returns to the land of the living!” Rose said while scrubbing the bolt assembly with a rag.

“I knew there was a reason I don’t drink that much.” I grumbled and searched my pack for my canteen.

“Maybe so,” Rose replied with a grin, “but you’re way more fun when you do!”

I opened the canteen and held it above my mouth, but was rewarded only with a stray drop. Snorting in frustration, I glared at Rose. “Are you saying I’m not normally fun?”

“Yup! You’re normally all serious, broody, and boring!”

What!? I molted slightly at the accusation. Was I really that drab? I tried to think of a proper response... something fun and witty and definitely not serious or boring. “Am not!” I said.

Nailed it. I facehooved internally for the millionth time. Faceclawed? No, that still doesn’t sound right...

“Prove it!” Rose said as she dropped the rag on the desk and turned towards me with an expectant look. “Do something fun, right now.”

I stood with my empty canteen and stared blankly at the charcoal mare. “I...” I looked around the room frantically, but my eyes were drawn to the sink and shower, and my voice betrayed a hint of resignation as I spoke. “I’m... going to fill my canteen and take a shower.”

Rose rolled her eyes and sighed. “You are truly a master of mirth. Look at you go.”

My shoulders drooped, and I filled my canteen in silence. The water was clear and scentless, a clear sign that the town was lucky enough to have a water purification talisman. After a moment, I felt Rose gently nudge my side, and I turned to see her wry smile. “I still like you though, even if you’re not a paragon of playfulness.”

I shut off the tap and gave a small grin. “A champion of cheer?”

“The essence of entertainment.”

“The boss of buffoonery?”

“Woah now,” Rose said with a sly grin, “we all know who the boss is!”

I arched an eyebrow. “Who? The great and powerful unicorn?” I flicked her horn with a talon, and she scrunched her face up at me.

“No, silly.” She hopped back and struck a valiant yet sultry pose, giving me a half-lidded gaze over her shoulder. “The girl!”

My father taught me many things over the years, but something he once said came bubbling immediately to the surface: “Boy, there’s two theories on how to approach arguing with a mare… and neither work! So don’t. Just apologize, or agree, or do whatever you need to do to get the hell out of there! And then buy her dinner.”

“...How ‘bout dinner?” I asked.

Rose’s sultry facade broke as she gave a determined smile. “Hell yeah!”

Thanks, Dad.

* * * * *

We had just gotten up from our delicious meat-free dinner in The Grotto when I spotted a familiar well-dressed griffon entering the restaurant. “Well howdy, stranger!” I called to him, mirroring his greeting from the previous night. He smiled as he approached.

“Now, why is it I never see the two of you outside of this restaurant?” he asked. “Y’know there’s an entire town out there t’ explore, right?”

“Yeah,” Rose muttered, “full of manipulative unicorns that want to feed you ponies… Or feed you to other ponies.”

Sterling frowned in response. “Leave it to a trio of psychotic stallions an’ their followers to paint a whole town as crazy in the eyes of a guest,” he muttered. “Y’know, a lot of kind folk from this town helped in the effort to rescue you an’ the others.”

Rose frowned and stared at the floor. I understood where she was coming from, but I also knew how Sterling felt. My father and I had been run out of a couple towns because of folks who hated ghouls, and simply because they didn’t understand or care about the differences between regular ghouls and ferals.

“We get that,” I said, trying to defuse the line of conversation, “and I’m glad everyone’s safe now.” I turned to Rose. “We could sightsee a bit when we head over to Iron Jade’s.”

Rose lifted her head and looked in my direction. “Who’s Iron Jade?”

Sterling laughed. “Well only the best damn blacksmith this side o’ Roan Peak!” He gestured for us to follow as he set himself up behind the bar. We took a seat, and he instinctively tabled a beer and a glass of rye. “Ancient bugger, but damn good at what he does!”

I gave a listless stare at my bottle as memories of my morning headache resurfaced. I turned to Rose. “He’s a nice pony,” I said, “tried to warn me of the Mayor. I figured we could finally upgrade your armor, and maybe work your stablesuit into it somehow.”

Rose smiled, her glass levitating in front of her. “I’d like that.”

Sterling turned away and began organizing racks of glasses. “So, I guess that means you aren’t stickin’ around for long, huh?” he said with a somber tone, then sighed. “Where you headin’?”

“Silverhoof,” I said. “We’ll probably be around for another day or so, though. Gotta fix and upgrade armor and stock up for the journey.”

As I watched the griffon work I couldn’t help but feel he was intentionally avoiding my gaze. Did I say something wrong? I shook my head. No… I think he’s sad because he doesn’t want to see us go...

I leaned over the bar as he set down a rack full of glasses with a clank. “Sterling...”

“Mm?”

“You could come with us you know.”

Sterling turned with a surprised expression. I thought I saw just the smallest glint of hope within his eyes, but he quickly composed himself. “Really?” he asked, then looked towards Rose, who took a long pull of her whiskey and stared at the ceiling.

“Really,” I said. “You’re a good griff, and you’re amazing in a fight.”

Sterling blushed. “Well now,” he said with a smile as he leaned on a talon, “tell me more about how I’m amazing...”

I thought about the previous night. “Well, you’re a strong flyer... capable and competent, a good leader, an awesome marksman…”

“And... handsome?” he asked as Rose’s glass clanked down on the bar, completely devoid of liquid. Sterling met her ruby gaze. “Another?” he asked sweetly.

“Please,” she replied through grit teeth.

What crawled up her butt?

Sterling topped off her glass, then turned back to me with a soft sigh. “Y’know, I’d really love to-- join you, that is-- but there’s still a lot goin’ on here. The town’s considerin’ options on new leadership, I’m helpin’ to train up the deputies that were left after Boot was taken, an’ we’re lookin’ to find a new sheriff.”

“Are you going to apply?” I asked, finally taking a sip of my beer.

The griffon looked away with a wistful gaze. “I’ve… thought about it,” he said.

“Well,” I said with a smile, “I think you’d make a great sheriff.”

Sterling smiled broadly. “Thanks, but what about you? Why are you headin’ all the way to Silverhoof?” I considered the question for a moment, and Rose turned to look at me as well.

“Well… answers, mostly. I was put into stasis in Silverhoof when I was very young, but I don’t remember anything about that time, or what life was like back then. I don’t know much about how my adoptive parents found me, but I know they have a stash on the outskirts of the city. I’m hoping to find… something.”

“That’s a lot of ties you’ve got to the old world…” Sterling said as he tossed the drying cloth under the bar. He then turned to Rose, who was fiddling aimlessly with her glass. “And what about you, Miss Rose? What exactly are you traveling for?”

Rose looked surprised at the question, but quickly gave a smirk. “I’m following him!” she said flippantly as she punched my shoulder. “Gotta make sure he doesn’t get himself killed, y’know!”

“Is that all?” Sterling asked with a sly grin.

Rose narrowed her eyes at the griffon and spoke slowly. “Yes...” The two continued to stare at each other for a moment as if both were waiting for the other to blink.

I cleared my throat. “Well, we should probably head over to Iron Jade’s before he closes. How much do we owe you?”

Sterling gave me an easy smile. “It’s on the house.”

* * * * *

Once again, Rose and I found ourselves walking through Ophir at night. The town had gone through a remarkable transformation in just a day: ponies were trotting happily through the lamp-lined streets, shutters and windows were open, and music could be heard from the few restaurants and bars we passed. My greetings to folks on the street were met in kind, and nopony hurried away or avoided talking with us.

We dropped off Rose’s stablesuit and barding at Iron Jade’s, and briefly talked with the old stallion about the plans to upgrade her armor, as well as the possibility of me using his workshop. Thankfully, he was more than happy to share his space and spend some time working with me, and he had several ideas on how to create some kind of hybrid armor for Rose, as well as how we might be able to improve my wing blades.

As Iron Jade grabbed a few measurements from Rose, I removed the wing blades. I had been wearing them for quite a while, and while part of me missed the familiar weight, my wings felt ridiculously light and nimble as I stretched them out now. I walked to the corner where I had dumped my gear the night before, and checked to make sure it was all still together. Iron Jade gave me a look, then trotted over. “That old armor really means something to you, doesn’t it?”

“Made it with my father,” I said with a hint of wistfulness. “One of the only things I have left to remember him by.”

“I see…” Iron Jade gave a sagely nod as he looked at the heap of barding. “Well, I may not be your father, but I’d be happy to work on it with you. We might be able to make a few improvements here and there as well, if you’re okay with that.”

I gave him a small smile. “I think that’d be great.”

“First thing in the morning I’ll inspect your wing blades and get a few things started on your friend’s armor. Would you be able to come in around midday tomorrow?” he asked. “I promise I won’t do anything on your barding until you show up,” he added, and I agreed. With a wave, Rose and I trotted out of the shop and into the cool evening air. With our most pressing errand done, we had the freedom to explore the town a bit.

“You know, being a night owl is great for a lot of things,” Rose said idly as we peered at the darkened windows of the shops lining the street. She trotted up to a store that had several sizable gems and various pieces of jewelry on display within the window, as well as a closed sign on the door. “But shopping isn’t exactly one of them.”

I chuckled as I peered at the window display. Little motes of light illuminated various earrings, necklaces, jewels, and horn adornments that sparkled within the window. “What exactly does one do with this stuff anyway?”

Rose gave me an incredulous look. “‘Do with this stuff?’ You mean jewelry?”

I shrugged. “Yeah.”

“You wear it, dummy!” she scoffed, then pointed a hoof accusingly at my bear claw necklace. “You’re wearing jewelry right now!”

I grasped the necklace with a talon as I responded, “Yeah, but… this is special.”

My necklace was handmade by Blaze. It served as a reminder of Autumn Vigil’s cabin and our time there, and is a symbol of strength, leadership, and spirituality... It was truly something that could never be replaced.

Rose’s features softened as she sat in front of me with a small grin. “All jewelry is special to the wearer.”

She turned towards the window, and I saw her features reflected in the glass. A beautiful layered silver necklace with a ruby heart pendant shone from within the display, and with the lighting it looked as if Rose’s reflection was wearing the piece.

“Call me out for being a silly unicorn,” she said, “but what you may see as frivolous could be the one thing that makes a mare feel normal in this world… It may be a relic from the past, and it may not have much practical use, but it’s a simple thing that can bring a type of joy you don’t normally find in the Wasteland.”

Rose smiled as she looked wistfully through the window, and the translucent mare who smiled back at me was every bit as beautiful as the necklace she seemingly wore. She turned her gaze from the window and looked at me. “That’s why I’m so insistent on keeping a piece of my stablesuit. It reminds me of home… and Crim.”

I smiled and nodded. “I think I understand.”

We started walking down the street again, but I couldn’t help but glance back at that shop window. I just kept thinking of the mare I saw in the reflection...

* * * * *

As we got back to our room at the inn, I found a note taped to our door:

Hey Storm Mist,

Just wanted to say, I’m sorry if I upset Rose earlier. That was definitely not my intention… it’s just, sometimes I can’t help myself. Especially with a griff as yummy graceful as you.

Anyway, you had mentioned you were going to Silverhoof... Do you know about the Emerald City shortcut? It may save you a couple days worth of travel. Perhaps we could meet tomorrow and talk about it? Perhaps during that private cuddleflight? Ha, ha… just kidding…

Anyway, if I don’t see you again…

Well, to be honest, I’ll be sad. But I know you’re in good hooves. Tell Rose she has lovely eyes.

~ Sterling Silver

As I sat in front of the door reading the letter, my mind and heart warred with conflicting thoughts and emotions. I liked Sterling, and I would definitely miss him. He was suave and competent and cool... But did I like him that way? He was kind of cute, especially when his smooth facade cracked and he got all flustered. But why would he have upset Rose? Was it because of his comment about the townsfolk helping rescue her and the other prisoners? Why would that upset her? I shook my head in confusion.

Rose looked at the letter as well, then gave a long sigh. “You should go and talk with him,” she said, “if for no other reason than to find out what this Emerald City shortcut is.” She unlocked the door and stepped inside.

“Will you be okay if I step downstairs and see if he’s still here?” I asked as I took the note off the door and rolled it up.

Rose snorted in amusement. “I promise I’ll stay in the hotel room and not chase after any more crazy unicorn stallions.” She gave a devilish grin. “But if you disappear for more than an hour or two, it’ll be my turn to tear this town apart in search of you.”

“I’m counting on it!” I said with a grin. I was glad that Rose was on my side. For as deadly as she could be, she was really quite sweet and caring, and I knew she would have my back. I closed the door and headed downstairs.

* * * * *

I stepped into The Grotto, and found it had been closed. The lights were off, the tables were wiped, and the chairs were all pushed in. I let out a little sigh and turned around to leave when there was a sudden crash from the kitchen.

What the hell was that? I didn’t have my axe or most of my equipment with me, but I always carried my knife. Unsheathing the weapon, I crept through the dark restaurant.

I crossed a pair of swinging doors and into a narrow corridor that led into the kitchen, the smell of various food and fryer oil hitting my nares. By the end of a row of ovens, I saw Sterling. His back was turned and there were several pots and pans lying on the floor in front of him.

“Sterling?” I asked cautiously.

“Oh!” he said with a start, wiping his face with a foreleg. He began to pick up the pots and pans as he spoke. “Didn’t expect to see you so soon… figured you’d be out all night.”

I sheathed the knife and approached him. “I got your note.”

“Ah... right, yes,” Sterling sputtered as he dumped the pots and pans into a sink full of wash water, keeping his back to me. Something about his demeanor was off: his normally confident voice was shaky and quiet, and he seemed distracted as he stared at the dishes in the sink.

“Sterling… Are you okay?” I asked cautiously, placing a talon on the griffon’s shoulder.

“Yeah, I’m uhh... I’m just, uhm...“ He continued to stare into the water for a long minute before letting out a sigh and turning to me. “Do you wanna get out of here?”

I blinked as I saw the griffon’s wet, matted face. It looked like he had been crying. “Sure,” I said hesitantly and slightly confused. “I’ll follow you.”

We left The Grotto and took to the sky. I wasn’t sure what had bothered him so much, but the least I could do was keep him company in case he wanted to talk about it. Sometimes just being with someone was enough...

We flew in silence for a while, circling the town from the air. I could see the inn overlooking the wall of the town, and the road that led from the gate down towards the canyons and Hoofstrap Junction. I thought about White Lightning and wondered if the militia group had made their way back home yet. I bet she’d be overjoyed at seeing her folks again. Below us, the lantern-lit streets of Ophir carved grid patterns into the mountain. Nopony was out at this hour, and we were surrounded only by cool air and the peaceful sound of gentle mountain winds, punctuated by the rhythmic beating of our wings.

Eventually Sterling spoke. “Guess I finally got that flight I wanted, huh?”

I gave a little laugh as I responded, “I guess so... Y’know, it’s nice out here.”

Sterling smiled, his broad wings gliding effortlessly over the gentle current. “Why do you think I wanted to share it?” He looked me over for a moment. “Ah, so that’s why you’re keepin’ up so much better tonight.”

“Huh?”

He flew close and nudged the leading edge of my wing with the tip of his own. “You’re naked.”

I chuckled. “You mean my wing blades? Yeah, Iron Jade had some ideas on how to improve the design, so I left them with him.”

“Well good!” Sterling said before breaking into a devilish grin. “Let’s see if you can keep up!”

He suddenly dove at an incredible pace, dipping far below me. With a grin of my own, I angled my wings and dove straight down after him. I started to gain just as he looked back, and he banked sharply to the left and began a spiral descent. I mirrored the move, trying my best to stay on his tail. We worked circles over the square before he straightened out and flew dangerously low over the town wall, descending into the canyons beyond. As I crossed, I coughed from the dust that had been stirred up by the griffon’s flyover.

We continued down until we were flying stealthily between two large outcroppings of rock. Tiny spatterings of trees and sagebrush whizzed by as we accelerated through the narrow ravine. Suddenly, I became acutely aware of a deadend cliff face that Sterling was rapidly approaching.

“Sterling!” I shouted, but I could barely hear my own voice as the wind whipped by. The griffin just continued to barrel straight ahead. I beat my wings, trying to get close enough that he could hear my shouts. “H-- hey, Sterling!”

Just as the face of the cliff nearly engulfed my vision, Sterling landed sideways on the rock, all four legs cushioning his impact with both talons and paws. Time seemed to stop as he looked back at me with an expression of pure joy and determination before springing back off and soaring directly under me.

It was at that point that I became suddenly aware of my own imminent impact with hard rock. I flailed my limbs and braced for a hard landing, trying my best to hit the wall in a similar way to the griffon. My slower speed must have helped spare my poor limbs, since I only felt a slight pain as I cushioned my momentum, trying to follow the example of the griffon. I pushed off and extended my wings, catching the current.

It worked! And way better than I thought it was going to!

My heart raced and I couldn’t keep from smiling like an idiot as I cheered into the night, my voice echoing off the canyon walls. We angled up and beat our wings to gain some altitude, flying towards the town.

Sterling slowed a little to let me catch up. “How’d that feel?” he asked with a grin.

“I didn’t die!” I blurted out.

“Damn right you didn’t die!” he exclaimed with a laugh. “You did pretty good, actually.”

Sterling’s silver feathers shimmered in the wind, and his broad smile had no hint of the sad uncertainty that had painted his face earlier. As we flew side by side, he looked… happy, and I was suddenly very glad I had caught him before he left the inn.

We continued to wing our way up past the town before landing on a rocky outcrop near the cloud layer. The rock formation couldn’t have been more than maybe forty feet in diameter, with a perfect view of the town below, framed by a seemingly infinite mountain range. Lightning arced quietly and continuously through the clouds in the distance, and I stared off towards it.

“Neat, huh?” Sterling said from my side. “Some creatures say that the lightnin’ is actually a reactor on a giant Enclave ship that’s parked just above the cloud layer. Others say it’s part of a defense network to prevent surface dwellers from gettin’ up there.”

“What do you think?” I asked.

Sterling snorted, staring wistfully into the clouds. “I think it might as well be fireflies that got stuck in the heavens, for all the good it does any of us. Sure is pretty, though.” I silently agreed.

A moment passed as the both of us just sat on the rock staring out at the night sky and watching the distant lightning. After a while, Sterling broke the silence. “I suppose you were wondering what I was upset about earlier...”

I glanced at the griffon, but he continued to stare hard at the clouds. “I was,” I replied, “but I figured you’d tell me if and when you wanted to… And even if you didn’t, I figured just spending time with a friend might help.”

Sterling gave a small smile and a sideways glance. “So… we’re friends then?”

I wrapped a wing around him and pulled him next to me. “Of course we are!”

The griffin turned pink beneath his argent feathers, positively purring from the gesture. For a moment he started to get that adorable flustered look, but didn’t say a word. We just stared out at the world in silence for a while until I heard him sniffle quietly, and I turned to see he had tears in his eyes.

“Wh… why are you crying?” I asked in surprise.

Sterling lowered his gaze and stared at his talons. He spoke in a quiet whisper, “Because you’re wonderful…”

“What?” I asked with quiet concern.

“You’re kind... an’ caring… an’ fiercely loyal to your friends. If this entire town had stood between you an’ Rose after she was taken, you woulda fought your way through every single pony to get to her, or died tryin’, wouldn’t you?”

I swallowed. “Probably?”

Sterling looked at me with his glassy hazel gaze. “Do you have any idea how rare that is in the Wasteland?”

I slowly shook my head. “Truthfully? No…”

I really didn’t. I had grown up with loving parents who had taught me that we were stronger together, and that we should always be there for one another. It was just… in my blood, so to speak.

Sterling blinked, tears rolling down his cheeks as he looked out towards the horizon. “There’s a ton of creatures out here who would sell their own mothers into slavery just to make a few caps. It’s not often you find someone who’ll truly fight for you.”

He wiped his eyes and turned to face me. “I’ve worked with a lot of mercs that fought to make a livin’... some for the caps, some just for the fun an’ thrill… But you... you fight for your friends, without any thought of reward or compensation.”

I stared at the griffon as tears began to form in my own eyes. “Is that… bad?”

“No!” he said with a choked laugh. “It’s good. It’s really, really good.”

A moment passed before I spoke again. “What did you fight for?”

“My team, mostly. I joined for the pay, but I stayed for them… Rind, Nimbus, Shell, and Cinder...” He stared at the rock we were standing on, then scratched idly at it with a talon. “They were good guys. Kinda weird an’ funny sometimes, but good. They... didn’t deserve to go how they did.”

The more I heard stories from creatures in the Wasteland, the more I became acutely aware of one pervasive truth: Everyone has lost someone. I wrapped Sterling in a hug and held him for a few minutes before he spoke again with a quiet voice, “I’m sorry I don’t have my usual luster tonight.”

“It’s fine,” I said with a smile. “In fact, it’s kind of reassuring to know that you’re not always so cool and smooth all the time.” I shrugged. “Gives me hope for myself.”

Sterling returned the smile. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think you need any polish. You shine perfectly well just as you are.”

I laughed. “Rose told me today that I’m serious, broody, and boring.”

Sterling smirked. “She’s just flirtin’ with you.”

“What? Rose doesn’t flirt with me,” I said incredulously.

Sterling levelled his gaze at me. “Seriously?”

“Yeah. She’d sooner punch me in the shoulder than flirt with me.”

Sterling stared hard at me for a long moment, then looked down at the town as he mumbled to himself. “Oh, that poor girl.”

“You’re actually the first, I think.”

“Doubt that,” Sterling mumbled under his breath.

“I’ve always wanted to meet and be around other creatures, but my parents were very protective, and I’ve never really thought too hard about romantic relationships, so... it’s all really weird to me still.”

Sterling just stared at me as if I had simultaneously grown another head and abducted his firstborn. “You… are a strange little griff, y’know that?”

I sighed in response and stared down at the flickering lights of the town below us.

Suddenly the griffon kissed my cheek, and I jumped in surprise as several feathers fell from my wings. My stone gray coat turned pink as Sterling just laughed and smiled warmly at me before wrapping me in his wing and pulling me close. He was strong, but moved with a gentle elegance that sweeped me into his embrace with ease, and I was suddenly very aware of why the griffon had purred with joy when I pulled him close earlier: I felt safe... protected... and cared for.

I rested my head within the nape of his neck, closed my eyes, and glowed within the serene warmth of his feathers as we sat peacefully for some time. The lightning continued to flash and the lanterns of Ophir burned their quiet vigil beneath us, but from way up here, nestled within Sterling’s feathers, it felt like the Wasteland was a million miles away.

I let out a contented sigh before Sterling quietly whispered, “I’m gonna miss you, Stormy.”

The use of the nickname surprised me, having never heard it from anyone but my parents, but somehow it... fit. And I rather liked the way it sounded with Sterling’s wonderfully smooth accent.

“I’m gonna miss you too,” I murmured as I nuzzled my chin into his feathers.

* * * * *

As we approached the inn, I spotted Rose lying on a bench just outside the entrance with an impatient look. As we landed, she got up and stretched.

“Do I need to buy you a watch?” she asked with a yawn.

I gave her a confused look. “What’s a watch?” She just grumbled and shook her head.

“I got this,” Sterling whispered as he walked past me and up to Rose. She tensed slightly as he approached, but relaxed as he leaned in and whispered something in her ear. Her eyes bulged as she stared straight at me. Then she blushed. And then she broke into a little smile as she gave me a strange look.

“Nevermind,” she said with a whinny. “Come on.”

What the hell did Sterling tell her?

I started towards the inn when Sterling spoke again. “Oh! I totally forgot to tell you about the Emerald City shortcut!”

“Seriously!?” Rose asked incredulously. “You guys spent two and a half hours doing Luna-knows-what but you never even asked about the letter!?”

Goddesses. Had it really been that long? “It… slipped my mind,” I said sheepishly.

“I bet it did.”

“Entirely my fault,” Sterling admitted, “but I can tell you all about it tomorrow, an’ give you what you need to get through it.”

“Deal,” I said with a grin. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Sterling flashed me a little smile before flying off and I followed Rose back up to our room.

* * * * *

“Best damn blacksmith this side o’ Roan Peak!”

Sterling wasn’t kidding. Iron Jade was damn good.

Rose stood adorned in her new armored stable barding: a wonderfully well-crafted hybrid consisting of her original suit, stable security barding, and several unique customizations. Iron Jade had defty trimmed, aligned, and reinforced the barding with his magic at a speed that was far beyond what my father or I would ever be capable of.

Unicorns aren’t just scary good at combat, apparently. They’re scary good at everything!

“How’s it feel?” I asked.

“Pretty good,” Rose replied, shifting her weight. “Heavier than I’m used to.”

“Well, considering you got used to trotting around with just your regular stable suit, I’m not surprised. Should be much more comfortable than the barding we got at Hoofstrap.”

Rose gave a dry laugh. “Don’t remind me.”

Iron Jade stepped back and assessed his work. “Hmm, that should be it! If you notice anything wrong with the fit before you leave town, just pop in and I’ll get it fixed right up for you.” He turned to me. “Now, you left me your wing weapon!” I nodded excitedly.

The old unicorn trotted over to a workbench and unravelled a cloth, revealing a pair of wing blades that I could only describe as a perfect pairing of sheer beauty and function. The majority of the parts had been replaced by finely-crafted duplicates made from a polished steel-like material. Several joints had upgraded bearings, and all contacting surfaces had been lined in black suede. Parts from my original prototype were also sitting within the bundle, looking dull and crude by comparison.

“That’s not titanium is it?” I asked, running a talon along the length of the blade.

“Nope! Though that would be a good choice too,” Iron Jade replied. “I have a special talent for creating alloys, so I tend to use them in place of scavenging for rare metals. This is an aluminum-steel alloy that I’ve stabilized with nickel. Every bit as strong and lightweight as titanium, but made from far more accessible materials.”

I picked up one of the wing blades and was amazed to find that the entire assembly weighed about as much as just one joint on my prototype. “This is incredible!” I said, and Rose trotted over to examine the smith’s handiwork with me.

Iron Jade gave me a grin and motioned towards the blades. “Would you like some help getting them on and adjusted?”

“Sure,” I responded, stepping back. I spread my wings as the smith expertly aligned the blades and snapped them into position, carefully eyeing every piece for fit and function. After they were in place, I stretched and rotated my wings before folding them in. Compared to the weight of my prototype, it felt like I was barely wearing anything at all.

“They don’t look terribly different when they’re on you,” Rose said as she cocked her head. She then raised an eyebrow and gave me a grin. “But you look like a foal that just woke up on Hearthswarming Morning.”

I realized that I was smiling like an idiot again. “Well… it certainly feels that way!”

The old smith chuckled as he rolled up the cloth. “Storm Mist’s prototype was fairly well designed and seemed to fit him well enough. I’m not nearly experienced enough with wings to attempt to redesign something I’ve only seen once, so I merely focused on fabricating the parts with a lighter material, upgrading a few of the mechanical joints, and lining it for comfort.”

“I’ll take function over flashy,” I said, then pointed at Rose’s barding. “You’re the one that got all the fancy stuff!” She stuck her tongue out at me in response and I laughed.

“Well now,” Iron Jade said as he trotted over to the corner of the shop. “Shall we get started on your barding?”

“Absolutely!”

I was beyond excited to take this opportunity to learn from the smith. He operated much differently from my father, and managed to do things easily with magic that earth ponies and hippogriffs had to sweat out with brutal determination and patience. However, he kindly waited and watched as I did things without the aid of a horn, and he offered a lot of advice along the way.

It didn’t take long, however, for Rose to get bored of watching us work. “Hey,” she said with a yawn, “I’m going to go take a walk around the market while things are actually open.”

I gave her a concerned look. “Are you going to be okay?”

“Yes, mom,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I won’t be far. Plus I’m super extra armored now!” She tapped one of the plates with a hoof.

I smirked. “Alright… try not to spend all our caps.”

She was halfway out the door as she called back, “No promises!”

* * * * *

A few hours later, I set foot outside Iron Jade’s door in completely repaired and upgraded armor, feeling not only like I had been freshly outfitted, but also like I had walked away with several years worth of armor crafting experience packed into my brain. Not only that, but when I asked Iron Jade how much everything was going to be, he said it was all taken care of. So, with a pocketful of caps and a smile upon my face, I trotted towards the market with a pronounced spring in my step.

There were quite a few other ponies milling about on the streets, bartering with shopkeepers and browsing the wares. Some young foals were playing hide-and-go-seek in the alleyway behind a cart full of preserved food. I smiled and touched my bear claw, thinking of Blaze.

After wandering around the square and popping my head into a few shops, I didn’t see any sign of Rose. Eventually, I found myself in front of the jewelry store that we had stopped in front of the night before, and I couldn’t help but take a look inside.

The interior was filled with gems, jewelry, and luxury items. There was even an entire section devoted to soaps of various sorts, all home-made. Truly, this had to be the last bastion of a civilized unicorn society. Who knows what kind of chaos and disorder would arise if they ever ran out of soap!? I was about to leave when the silver necklace with the ruby pendant caught my eye, and I remembered Rose’s words.

“What you may see as frivolous could be the one thing that makes a mare feel normal in this world… It may be a relic from the past, and it may not have much practical use, but it’s a simple thing that can bring a type of joy you don’t normally find in the Wasteland.”

As I replayed her words in my mind, I remembered the gray mare in the glass looking back at me, speaking so passionately as the necklace shone through her reflection… and how beautiful she looked doing it.

I could spare a few caps, right?

* * * * *

Since I was unable to find Rose at the market, I headed back to the inn, figuring it’d be the next most likely place to find her. My logic was rewarded as I popped my head into The Grotto and found her sitting at the bar with Sterling. Upon seeing me, Sterling gave a broad smile, and Rose turned around in her seat.

“Hey!” she exclaimed. “Nice armor!”

I smiled in response as I took a seat next to her. “Thanks! Working with Iron Jade was awesome.”

“Sterling here has been filling me in on this Emerald City shortcut,” she said, taking a sip from her glass. “Apparently it’s a town in the mountain.”

I arched an eyebrow. “What’s new about that? We’re in a town in the mountains.”

She shook her head. “No, not in the mountains. In the mountain. Like, built within a cavern.”

“Old minin’ settlement within Roan that was repurposed by Society ponies,” Sterling said as he held up a beer with an inquisitive look.

“Naw, thanks,” I said. “What are Society ponies?”

“They’re folks who believe they’re descended from nobility,” Sterling responded. “The biggest group was out east led by King Awesome, but some decided to migrate west and formed groups with nobles from ol’ Las Pegasus an’ even the Crystal Empire.”

“I see… So, what’s this shortcut then?” I asked.

Sterling grabbed a map that had been set aside on the bar and pointed towards the range west of Ophir. “Normally to get to Silverhoof, you’d have to skirt around this peak, through Palisade an’ Moraine, then down into this valley before even gettin’ close.” I nodded, and he continued. “Well, Emerald City is here, inside the mountain, an’ has a tunnel system that extends out to here.” He pointed to the far side of the peak. “You can basically cross straight through towards the eastern side of Silverhoof, savin’ you a couple days journey.”

“So what’s the catch?” Rose asked.

Sterling grinned. “Well, because it’s a Society settlement, the entrances are magically sealed to prevent any riff raff from wanderin’ in. There’s a special key used to unlock the doors.”

“Ooh!” Rose exclaimed excitedly. “Let me guess, the key is hidden within the darkest reaches of Tartarus and we have to fight through legions of hellhounds and undead prisoners of Equestria to reach it or something, right?”

Sterling laughed. “Oh! Haha-- no! Not at all!” He reached into the pocket of his vest and pulled out a glowing emerald jewel attached to a length of ribbon. “It’s right here,” he said with a smirk.

Rose gave a dejected look and rested her head languidly on the bar. “Aww, that’s boring. I’m getting stir crazy in this town.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” Sterling said as he handed me the jewel. “Of course, once you enter, you’ll have to look the part. Society ponies tend to never be caught dead without fine clothes or jewelry, an’ you wouldn’t wanna be mistaken as a serf. I probably have something that’ll fit you, Stormy, but as for Miss Rose...”

“Oh! I think I have just the thing,” I exclaimed as I started digging through my pack.

“Well you learn something new every day!” Rose said, hopping off her chair with a devilish smirk. “I never knew you liked wearing dresses!” Sterling stifled a laugh. Rose poked me with a hoof as she continued teasing. “You know, I’ve got some eyeshadow in my pack. All we’d need is some lipstick and I could--”

I carefully pulled the silver necklace from a little box I had in my bag, and she stopped mid-sentence, silently falling to her rump as she stared with wide eyes.

“Well now,” Sterling said with an impressed tone, “that’s the fastest I’ve ever seen someone shut up a unicorn.” Rose didn’t even acknowledge that he said anything as she continued to stare at the delicate piece of jewelry within my talons, her eyes shimmering.

“Will this do?” I asked.

Rose blinked, a tear rolling down her cheek, and she nodded happily.

A moment passed.

“Stormy!” Sterling said in a harsh whisper.

“Hm?”

“Put the damn necklace on the girl.”

“Oh, right!” I said. Sterling facetaloned.

I stepped forward and carefully clasped the necklace around Rose’s neck while she watched me with glassy eyes and a bright smile. As I lowered my talons, she threw her hooves around my neck and held me in a tight hug. I returned it with a little laugh.

Sterling rummaged around the shelf behind him and produced a fine serving platter with a mirrored finish. He gave it a quick polish with a rag, then held it up in front of him. “Would you like to see?” he asked. Rose released me from the hug and stepped back, studying her reflection in the tray.

As I saw her happy expression in the reflection, I spoke. “I went looking for you in the market before coming back here, and I found myself in that store that we stopped at last night. I remembered what you said and... how you looked standing in front of that window.” I gave her a sheepish smile and shrugged. “I thought maybe it’d look good on you.”

Rose looked back at me over her shoulder, and she was a picture of elegance: her mane framed happy sparkling eyes that mirrored the beauty of the polished ruby heart that shone brilliantly upon her neck.

“It’s perfect,” she said with a reverent tone.

Sterling let out a gentle sigh as he placed the platter back on the shelf. “It’s a beautiful piece. Looks like Hearthstone’s work.”

“Hearthstone?” I asked in surprise. “I didn’t realize Ophir had a jeweler.”

Sterling shook his head sadly as we once again took our seats. “We used to. He was one of the first to be taken,” he said, gesturing towards me. “May I see the box that came with it?”

I nodded and passed it over to the griffon. He opened it up, took out the felt base, and removed a folded piece of paper that was hidden within. Looking at it, he nodded. “Just like I thought… it’s definitely Hearthstone’s work, an’ from the looks of it, it was one of the last pieces he ever completed. Even has a name.”

“What is it?” Rose asked.

“The Heart of Ophir,” Sterling said as he folded the paper back up and reassembled the box. He handed it back with a smile, but I couldn’t help but see the hint of sadness within his eyes. “You have impeccable taste, Stormy. I’m impressed.”

“Thanks,” I said, slightly embarrassed.

He turned his gaze to Rose. “You should make sure to hold on to that. It might be incredibly valuable one day.”

Rose gave the griffon a small smile, then looked at me. “It already is.”

Footnote: Level Up!

New Perk: Armorer (Rank 2)
You’ve honed your armor crafting abilities and discovered new and efficient ways to work with materials. New armor modifications are available.

Author's Note

Definitely a recovery chapter, but this one was exceptionally fun to write. I'm really happy that Sterling finally got his opportunity to spend some time with Storm Mist. Thanks as always to Kkat for inspiring this mess and Artimae for helping me out with the writing process~

And if you're into shipping, what team are you on? #TeamRoseStorm or #TeamSilverMist? ;p

Chapter 7: One Short Day...

Chapter 7: One Short Day...

“Only rumors, but still, enough to give pause to anyone with paws. Something bad is happening in Oz.”
- Dr. Dillamond

I had never in my life seen anyone happier to be squishing radroaches than Rose at this moment. She gleefully jumped from one to the next, mashing their bodies into the dirt while singing to herself:

“Oh, I’m Crimson Rose, I’m a fine young lady
Way, hay, we roll and go!
Well, I drink good rye from the griffon’s cabinet
Way, hay, we roll and go!
And we rolled all night
And we rolled all day
Spendin’ our caps on Crimson Rose!”

She tried to get me to join in on the “Way, hay” parts, but I was far too busy laughing at her. This was probably the happiest I had ever seen her, and it was honestly kind of weirding me out. She didn’t even drink anything this morning! At least, I don’t think she did.I tried in vain to remember where we had packed the Griffon Creek as Rose continued to sing:

“Well, I know this grumpy hippogriff boy
Way, hay, we roll and go!
He don’t sing along, but he likes my song
Way, hay, we roll and go!
And we rolled all night
And we rolled all day
And he spent his caps on Crimson Rose!”

“I’m starting to regret that right about now,” I said, trying to hide my smile.

Rose pointed at me with a hoof covered in radroach guts. “Nuh uh! I see a smile hidden beneath all that grumpiness!”

“I’m not grumpy!”

“Said every grump ever.”

She trotted up beside me with a giggle and I sighed as we continued walking along the road. “Say, do you remember where we packed the Griffon Creek?” I asked.

“You mean… this Griffon Creek?” A nearly-empty bottle suddenly lowered itself in front of my face. I tried to snatch it with my claws but she levitated it out of my reach.

“Hey--”

“We roll and go!” she completed in song. “See? Singing along isn’t that hard.”

I gave a long sigh. It was going to be another incredibly long day. But I was happy that she was enjoying herself.

“That necklace really brings you that much joy, huh?” I asked. The Heart of Ophir had been stored in her pack to keep it safe, but that didn’t seem to dampen her spirits.

“Partly,” she replied, “but I’m also really excited to pretend like I’m some kind of beautiful noble unicorn!”

I grinned. “Well, that might be hard to pull off with guts all over your hooves.”

Rose stuck her tongue out at me. “Well, you know, I could always just wipe them off... on you!”

With an evil grin, she tackled me to the ground and tried to stick her hooves in my face. I desperately batted her legs away through bouts of laughter as flecks of guts, dirt, and grass flew in every direction.

Suddenly an ominous roar echoed throughout the surrounding brush, and we both stopped dead. “The fuck was that?” Rose asked, her eyes wide.

There was another ghastly roar, followed by the sound of heavy galloping. Within an instant, a giant glowing beast emerged from the treeline. Lowering its massive shovel-shaped antlers, it bolted straight at us.

“Shit!” I shouted as I pushed Rose as hard as I could, throwing her clear of the beast’s path as I tried to stand. Before I could right myself, the beast plowed into my side and tossed me clear into the treeline on the opposite side of the road. I landed hard within a thicket, but my barding thankfully absorbed most of the impact.

Jumping up, I grabbed the axe from my back and ran towards the beast. My swing connected with the beast's leg, cutting a large gouge, but the wound began to close and regenerate immediately. The massive creature lowered its head and charged at me once again, but this time its antlers met the handle of my axe, rather than my side. It heaved against me with a massive amount of strength, easily pushing me back several feet as my hooves cut skid marks into the gravel road.

Several shots from Rose’s revolver rang out in rapid succession. The bullets seemed to connect with the backside of the animal, but the beast barely acknowledged their presence. With a toss of its head, the beast ripped my axe from my claws and sent it tumbling along the ground. I jumped back, extended my wings, and took to the air just as the creature charged me again.

There was a loud crack as Rose’s bolt-action rifle fired, the bullet ripping into the animal’s flank. She had taken up a position just behind a large rock, and was levitating both the rifle and the revolver beside her.

Having lost its primary target, the enraged creature whirled around and lowered its head towards Rose, who worked the bolt with her magic and fired a shot that exploded through the beast’s eye, spraying blood and glowing green taint on the ground beneath the creature. With it temporarily distracted, I was able to swoop in and grab my axe.

I chopped at its neck near the base of its skull, drawing more sickly tainted blood as the beast roared. Rose blasted another shot straight into its skull, and I swung again, burying the blade into the creature’s spine. The beast let out a sick, gurgly roar and reared up, its head canted at an unnatural angle. I barely managed to pull my axe from its neck and jump back as the creature brought its weight down where I had been standing.

Another shot from Rose’s rifle grabbed the beast’s attention, and it turned and barrelled towards her. As it ran, the creature’s broken neck could no longer support the weight of its head, and it lolled to the side, bobbing limply and dragging its antlers through the dirt as it ran.

Rose dropped the rifle and held the pistol steady until the beast was just several feet from her. Within just a second or two, all six shots fired point blank into the beast’s skull and it smashed into the rock, flipped over and landed square on top of Rose.

“Shit, Rose!”

I winged my way over to the massive beast. Despite having the majority of its face blasted off, it struggled weakly to right itself. I smashed my axe into its exposed skull repeatedly until I had turned its brain into purée and the wounds stopped regenerating.

“Rose! Are you alright?” I shouted as I heaved on the corpse, trying desperately to lift some of the weight off the crushed mare. As I strained against the weight, I could swear I felt the presence of the little cyan stallion pulling with me. Remain Strong! I doubled down on my efforts to lift, flapping my wings and pulling as hard as I could. “Rose!”

After a moment, a charcoal hoof emerged from beneath the mass of the creature and slowly Rose crawled her way out from underneath the thing, coughing and covered in tainted blood. Her PipBuck was clicking like mad.

“Dear Celestia, I thought you were dead!” I exclaimed as I grabbed my canteen and tried to wash all the blood off of her.

She gave a long exhale as she stared at the sheer mass of the creature. “I might have been if it wasn’t for this rock and my new armor.”

“So, you finally understand the need for quality barding?”

“Did I say that?” Rose said wryly. “I think I meant to say it was just the rock. Rock friend saved my life.” She nodded sagely. I sighed, but she nudged me with her nose. “Yes, I understand the need for the fancy armor,” she said reassuringly. “And I’m glad you’re okay too.” She checked her pack, then let out a scream.

“What!?” I asked in horror, “What is it!?”

“The Griffon Creek!” she exclaimed, levitating a sad, shattered bottle. She clutched it to her chest. “This is the worst possible thing.”

“Wasn’t it almost empty anyway?”

Rose fell onto her back with a hoof across her brow. “Every wasted drop is a tear upon my soul!” Somewhere in the distance, the tiniest violin played the Wasteland’s saddest song.

I looked at her pack, and pulled out a full bottle. “But… you have a whole other bottle.”

She wailed. “That’s not the point!”

Rose. She had her ups, and she had her downs. I shook my head and made a mental note to never get between a girl and her whiskey.

* * * * *

After our run-in with the glowing beast, the rest of the day seemed woefully uneventful. At one point Rose scared me half to death as she switched on the radio feature of her PipBuck and loud static suddenly cut through the air.

She twisted the knob and the noise broke into the voice of some religious zealot screaming about the inevitable return of Celestia. As he began to describe the vast torrents of white-hot fire that will cleanse the Wasteland, Rose continued to scan through the frequencies, eventually landing upon one that was broadcasting an old jaunty tune about a mare who unwittingly shot a sheriff. We travelled to the sound of old world music for nearly an hour before the frequency was lost.

Sans music, Rose and I began talking to pass the time and I told her the story of how I had found the little statuette in a vacant and untouched office within the Ophir Post building. I had completely forgotten I even had the thing until I felt its presence while lifting the beast off of Rose earlier.

“This is amazing,” she said, turning the little statuette around in her magic. “It’s in pristine condition, as if it had just been manufactured yesterday, and the detail is incredible!”

“Do you know who it is?” I asked.

Rose smiled as she gave me a sideways glance. “Of course I do! It’s Rockhoof, one of the Pillars of Equestria. He’s an ancient hero who saved his entire village from imminent destruction.”

“How’d he do that?”

“Well,” she continued, “a volcano was erupting and he used his incredible strength to dig a moat out to sea, redirecting the flow of lava away from the village.”

We continued to talk about heroes for some time-- both ancient and not-so-ancient. I learned that there were five other Pillars, ponies who were all incredible in their own way who came together to fight a great evil. Hearing about the existence of the other Pillars sparked a hope that there were other such statuettes, and a desire to find them. As strange as it seemed, it felt like the little cyan stallion in my saddlebag echoed that sentiment.

The day wore on as we continued to travel further and further into a narrow valley that was nestled between two large mountains, the surrounding trees and brush becoming more plentiful and lush until, by the end of the day, we were enveloped within the forest.

We set up camp within the dwindling twilight, and had a fire going by nightfall. Rose skewered some radrat meat while I put some water on for tea. After days in the near-lavish comfort of Ophir’s inn, our meal of roast radrat and canned veggies was comparatively plain, but a dash of spice I had gotten from the market made the meat more than palatable-- it was downright tasty!

As I watched Rose chow down on a skewer of seasoned radrat meat by the glow of the fire, I was reminded of the first night we had spent together. She was still every bit as strange, but the idea of her being some kind of immortal unicorn killing machine seemed ludicrous now. She had her strengths, and she had her weaknesses, and there was so much more to her than all that. I loved her humor and silliness, and her strange mannerisms had become oddly reassuring.

Her eyes met mine as she caught me staring. “What?” she asked, wiping her mouth with a hoof. “Is there something on my face?”

I chuckled. “Naw, I was just thinking of the first night we spent together.”

She gave a small smile, then nodded. “You did the right thing by not killing that slave leader.”

That moment replayed within my mind: holding the pistol to the slave leader’s head, him chiding me on, the looks of the freed slaves around us, and the shame I felt when I realized how selfish I was being. I shook my head and tried to forget it.

“No, I wasn’t thinking of that,” I said as I took a sip of tea. By the goddesses, I’ll never understand why Rose prefers whiskey over this glorious leaf broth.

Rose tilted her head. “Oh… then what were you thinking about?”

“You, actually.”

“Me?” she asked in surprise.

I smirked. “Yeah. When I first met you, I thought you were a strange deadly unicorn superhero. You trotted around with barely any armor on, and you took control of an entire band of slavers within seconds.”

Rose smiled and puffed out her chest. “I’m flattered!” After a moment, she relaxed. “But, what do you think now?”

“I think you’re wearing far better armor,” I said, giving Rose a playful grin that was met by a roll of her eyes. “I still think you’re awesome, but not immortal… and you’re definitely still strange, but strange-good.”

Rose gave me a flat look with an amused smirk. “I guess I’ll take that. You’re… less boring than I expected.”

“Still serious and broody, though?”

“Sometimes,” she said with a wink, “but you’re also compassionate and fiercely loyal… strong, agile, good with people, good with mechanical stuff… and you have a cute butt.”

I snorted. “Is that why you let me take lead so much?”

Rose grinned. “Well, that and I’m hoping that the next time something comes running out of the bushes to trample, bite, or skewer us that it sees you first.”

“I could just start flying more,” I replied with a wry grin.

Rose snorted with dry amusement, finished off her radrat skewer, and washed it down with some Griffon Creek. I took another sip of my tea, then stoked the fire. “You said you were a teacher before you left your stable, right?” I asked, receiving a nod in response. “What did you teach?”

She gave a little laugh and looked wistfully into the flames. “I was a primary teacher, so a little bit of everything, really. Reading and writing, how to button up a shirt, basic PipBuck usage, Equestrian history, console usage… It was my job to discover what kind of skills each little colt and filly had, and try to place them in the appropriate line of study.”

I tried to imagine her in a smarmy beige turtleneck pointing at the letters of the alphabet on a chalkboard, but my imagination failed me as I studied the face of the confident, capable mare before me. I gave a little laugh as I spoke, “It’s hard for me to see you as a nerdy teacher surrounded by kids.”

“Pfft!” Rose exclaimed. “Please… Crim had the nerd gene. That’s why she became a researcher. I was just a glorified babysitter.”

I idly poked at the fire with a stick. “Do you miss it?”

“All the time,” Rose said with a sigh. “Not the job, just the kids. While leaving that place was absolutely the right thing for me to do, I don’t envy what they went through. Hopefully the Overmare hasn’t painted me as a complete monster... but I wouldn’t be surprised.”

I nodded and we both just stared at the fire for a while before Rose spoke again. “Hey Storm?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.”

I gave her a questioning look, but she just flashed me a smile before laying down and curling up. I sat and stared into the fire as I started first watch, wondering what she was thanking me for, but eventually I decided to file it under ‘Random Rose-isms’. I sipped at my tea and slowly worked my whetstone over the blade of my axe to the quiet sounds of the crackling fire and the gentle wind rustling through the trees.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I opened my eyes to a blurry, cold world. A persistent low rumble reverberated about and within me, punctuated by bubbling, churning sounds. I struggled to move, but my limbs refused to function, and I could do nothing but look directly ahead through a curved glass window that revealed blurry forms moving about, all tainted with a strange pink hue.

From beyond the immediate watery sounds, I heard what sounded like voices: unintelligible murmurs at first, but they soon became louder and more clear.

“--seemed to respond better with the revised solution.”

“Ah right, something about twenty grams per liter rather than the standard nine?”

“Correct,” responded the first voice. “Though, it does have a rather unsettling side effect.”

The two blurry figures grew larger within my field of view, until suddenly a hoof wiped away the condensation that had formed upon the glass, revealing two stallions who looked directly at me with faces of disgust. The pegasus on my left looked like he was about to be sick.

“That’s horrid!” he exclaimed as he shielded his face with a wing.

“I know!” replied the unicorn on my right. “Complete vascular, lymphatic, and ocular development without having even started intramuscular development yet!” He spoke with a genuine enthusiasm and excitement while the pegasus beside him parted the feathers in his wing slightly to steal another look.

“I don’t like how it’s staring at us,” he said, turning away. “Do you think it’s aware yet?”

“Highly doubtful.” The unicorn chuckled. “She probably won’t develop sentience until the later stages of development, if the others are any indication.”

The two turned away and walked over to a table that was cluttered with scientific equipment, and the unicorn shuffled through several papers before levitating a pen and writing several notes on a page. The pegasus glanced up at the door atop a set of metal stairs. “Well, I just thought I’d check in. The skywagon should be here in about five minutes if you wanted to come back with us. We’re all planning to have a drink in honor of that Big Macintosh fellow.”

“Who?” the unicorn asked, turning the page and continuing to scribble.

“The hero who jumped in front of a bullet intended for Princess Celestia? Don’t you read the news?”

“No, not really,” the unicorn replied with a sigh. “I have my hooves full here, and all the news seems to be unbearably bleak these days.”

“You’re not wrong.”

“I just have a few notes to finish up. I’ll be there in a few minutes,” the unicorn said as the condensation began to reform on the glass, once again obscuring the figures from sight.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I awoke from the dream with a start, my axe and whetstone beside me. Damn it… I must have fallen asleep during my watch. The fire had burned down to just one small charred piece of firewood that crackled dully and, thankfully, the night was still and peaceful.

I threw another log on the hungry embers, and it wasn’t long until the fire once again crackled to life, casting its serene glow upon the campsite. The fresh air and glow of the fire was comforting, especially after that strange dream.

To my side, a tree branch snapped loudly, and I whirled towards it with a start, instinctively dropping my stance and reaching for my axe. Near the edge of the firelight, a grizzly bear backed up slightly at my action, and lowered its head submissively.

Rose was still asleep, and I quietly stepped over her, putting myself between her and the bear. It took another step back as I approached, but held my gaze. It wasn’t acting aggressive, but it did seem interested in me. Did it smell the food we had cooked earlier?

“Are you… looking for something to eat?” I asked the bear, unsure of what else to do, and it seemed to shake its head in response. “I’m… gonna take that as a ‘no’.”

To my surprise, the bear nodded at me.

“You understand me?” The bear nodded again. Huh.

I put my axe away, the bear visibly relaxing, and I took several cautious steps forward. “I’m Storm Mist.” The bear nodded and let out a small grunt before approaching slightly.

“I wish you could tell me what you want,” I mumbled to myself with a sigh, and the bear cocked its head and exhaled, as if sharing my frustration. “Are you--”

Suddenly the peace of the night was broken by Rose’s panicked shout: “Wuaah! Bear!”

I turned towards her and held my talons up, but the rifle was already in her magical grip as she worked the bolt. “Rose, stop!” I shouted as she nearly pointed the damn thing right at me. I glanced back just in time to see the tail end of the bear disappear into the darkness, and I let out a long sigh. As I walked back over to the fire, I knocked the rifle to the side with a talon.

“What the hell was that?” Rose asked. “Are you making friends with the local wildlife in the middle of the night?”

“Something like that,” I said, laying back down and covering myself with the tribal blanket Autumn had given me. “That wasn’t your average bear.”

Rose gave an exasperated sigh as she put the rifle down and sat, looking suspiciously around the perimeter of the campsite. “When is anything average out here? Regular bears freak me out, I don’t want to try and imagine weird mutated bears.”

“No, it wasn’t like that. It was a regular bear, but… smart. It looked at me intelligently and could answer questions.”

Rose shivered and pulled her blanket around her. “Why does that just freak me out more?”

I gave an amused snort. “Because you’re Rose.” I yawned. “You’re on second watch.”

“As if I could sleep now anyway!” Rose replied.

My thoughts raced as I closed my eyes. What did the bear want? Why was it just standing near the edge of camp? It wasn’t hungry, so did it want something else we had? Was it just lonely? The thoughts continued to roll circles in my mind until the questions became monotonous and I drifted back to sleep.

* * * * *

The next morning I let Rose sleep in as I foraged around the campsite. One benefit of travelling further and further into this forested region was having more edible plants nearby. I managed to gather some long grass and clovers that I knew both Rose and I could eat. I found a bush that had some berries on it, but without the proper knowledge to truly identify the plant, I decided to leave it well enough alone as I quietly chided myself for never paying much attention to my mother’s lectures on edible plants.

I walked back to the fire and dropped the bowl. I had put on a pot of water before leaving and now that it was at a boil, I took it off the flames and added some tea leaves to steep. As I waited, I noticed that Rose was twitching and groaning in her sleep. I poked her with a claw, and she opened her eyes groggily.

“Good morning,” I said with a grin. “You were tossing and turning. Weird dreams?”

Rose groaned and wiped her eyes with a hoof. “I was a ship captain and my crew mutinied. They tied me up and stuck me in front of a barrel of rye.”

I laughed. “That must have been hard for you.”

“Sheer agony,” she responded. “We had just gotten to an island where they were going to maroon me when you woke me up.” She eyed the greens I had collected.

“Go ahead,” I said, motioning to the bowl. Rose gave a little smile before groggily stuffing her face. “I had weird dreams too. Was stuck inside of some kind of tank full of liquid, watching these two scientists talk about some experiment they were running…”

Rose arched an eyebrow. “Interesting, coming from you. Did they say anything interesting?”

“Just a bunch of sciency stuff, and the pegasus said something about having a drink to honor some hero that died saving Princess Celestia. His name was, uhh, ‘Big’… ‘Big’-something.”

Rose stopped munching and looked at me. “Big Macintosh?”

“Yeah. Wait, he’s real?”

Rose swallowed and offered me the bowl, which I took. “Yeah, he was a war hero. Took a bullet that was meant for Princess Celestia at Shattered Hoof Ridge.”

“Huh, never knew.” I munched on some greens. “They didn’t say much else before I woke up and discovered the bear.”

“The bear was real!?” Rose groaned. “I had hoped I dreamt that.”

I grinned. “Yup. Definitely real. What do you got against bears, anyway?”

“Aside from them being big and scary with sharp teeth and sharper claws? They could slice you in two with one swipe!” Rose gave a shudder.

“I mean… I have sharp claws too.” I waved a talon in front of her, and she batted it away dismissively.

“Not like a bear! They’re freaky. That’s all there is to it.” I offered her the bowl of greens and she took it while staring at my neck. “Think maybe it came for revenge?”

“Huh?” She pointed a hoof at my necklace and I grasped it with a talon, touching the bear claw pendant, before giving a little laugh. “No, I don’t think so… It wasn’t aggressive at all. Even seemed frustrated it couldn’t effectively communicate with me.”

“Freaky,” Rose said through a mouthful of food. I rolled my eyes.

* * * * *

It was late afternoon as we neared the entrance to Emerald City. Sterling had drawn a crude map with several landmarks to help pinpoint the exact place we needed to be. Since all the spots were represented from the air, I got into the habit of taking flight, comparing our surroundings to the map, then landing and walking along a heading with Rose for a while before repeating the process.

As I landed again, I called to Rose as I approached. “Hey! I think we’re really close now. Should be just up that ridge.”

“Oh good!” she said in a casual tone that betrayed her tense demeanor. As I trotted next to her, she leaned in and whispered in my ear, “I think we’re being followed.”

My blood ran cold. “By what?”

“Don’t know yet. Just be ready.”

I nodded and looked around. I didn’t see anything in the surrounding bushes, and I didn’t notice anything weird from the air. I was half-convinced that Rose was hallucinating from lack of sleep when I heard a twig snap from somewhere far behind us. Not taking any chances, I made sure my axe was easily within reach, and Rose levitated her revolver.

We continued up towards the ridge until we reached a lightly-trodden path that dead-ended in a rocky cliff face. No doors or entrances were visible, but there was an intercom-type device embedded within the rock at head height. “This has to be it,” I said.

Sterling had mentioned that such a device would indicate the entrance to the city, but attempting to contact whomever was on the other side could lead to a possible death sentence for anyone near the entrance. Instead, there was a key hole within the rocky wall that would fit the emerald jewel he had given us-- we just had to find it.

Easier said than done. I searched the rocks for a small hole.

“Can you hurry up?” Rose said quietly as she shifted uncomfortably. “My mane’s crawling.”

I muttered to myself before turning to Rose. “Take a look at the wall, see if you can find a key hole that would fit this thing.” I turned around and scanned the forest around us as Rose lowered the revolver and took the emerald key in her magic.

It only took her a minute to find what she was looking for. “Aha! Leave it to a snooty unicorn society to put the key hole at the uppermost point.”

I glanced up and saw that the rock formation came to an arched point above us, and right at the peak of the arch was a small hole that perfectly fit the key. For once, Rose saw something I didn’t! Maybe she’s not totally blind!

As she inserted the key, there was a deep rumble of stone shifting on stone, and the distant whine of mechanical parts screaming against a heavy load. The rocky stone wall in front of us backed slowly into the cliff face, revealing an arched doorway. It stopped momentarily, then started to shift to the side.

Suddenly, there was a shout and ponies sprung from every direction, closing in. They wore cobbled together armor: some with spiked vambraces, some with tattered leather barding, some had gas masks or wire cages strapped to their heads. All of them had a sort of ghillie cloak that camouflaged well with the surrounding wilderness, allowing them to stay effectively undetectable so long as they didn’t move, and many of them carried rifles. Raiders.

“Finally, somepony actually opened the damn place!” a rough-voiced mare yelled. “Kill ‘em and get in there!”

The door hadn’t yet opened wide enough for Rose and I to get through, and so with a quick glance, we bolted opposite directions as the gunfire began to rain down on us. As I ran, I felt several shots impact my armor and a burning pain seared into my flank.

I ploughed into the first stallion I saw, half-tackling him and putting him between me and the ponies with firearms. He had a long serrated knife in his mouth and he swung frantically, but I easily sidestepped the attack and drove my axe into his shoulder. He screamed in pain, but retained his hold on the long blade.

He glared at me with pin-prick pupils as he arched his neck and tried to bring the knife down on my foreleg, but I swung to the side and parried the blow with the handle of my axe before removing it from his shoulder. I heard several shots from Rose’s revolver as I brought my weapon down again, aiming square at the stallion’s head, but he ducked away from the blow. He wasn’t fast enough to avoid my axe shearing off his left ear, however.

Enraged and bloody, he charged at me while swinging the blade chaotically. I backpedalled, but parried and dodged every blow. A shotgun blast boomed from behind the stallion, and I felt several small pellets dig into my right shoulder. The stallion stumbled slightly and winced in pain. He turned his head and yelled through his grip on his weapon. “Rook here, ffuckwiht! Stop ffuckin shootin’--”

I didn’t give him time to finish admonishing the other raider as I buried my axe into his neck. Blood spurted from around my blade as he dropped the knife, and I pushed him backwards until his rear legs failed. I ripped my axe out of his wound, jumped into the air, and took flight as he tumbled to the ground.

The raider with the shotgun was transfixed on the spurting wound in the soon-to-be-dead stallion as I glided towards him. I angled my glide path straight into the colt, my wing blade slicing straight through his neck before I came to a stop behind him. I looked back in surprise and saw his head cleanly roll off his shoulders as his body collapsed in a heap. A raider mare who had witnessed the whole thing simply stared dumbfounded at the headless corpse before looking up at me.

“Yeah, surprised the shit out of me too,” I said in astonishment. She hastily aimed her rifle at me and I once again took to the air, narrowly avoiding several shots. From behind me, I heard the telltale crack of Rose’s rifle.

As I circled the area, I tried to spot the threat that was closest to Rose through the tree canopy. Two raiders had circled around her position and were moving in to flank her: an earth pony mare with a pistol in her mouth, and a unicorn wielding a large bat wrapped in barbed wire. I angled my wings and swooped down through the branches towards them, hoping for a repeat performance with my wing blades.

I managed to catch the earth pony by surprise, but the unicorn saw me coming and ducked to the side. My left wing blade buried itself into the earth pony’s chest as my inertia spun me around her until my hooves and talons met the dirt. The unicorn that had dodged out of the way took the opportunity to smash his bat into my right wing. I screamed in agony as the bat dislocated bone and the barbed wire ripped at my skin and feathers.

I tried to fold my wings in, but only my right wing cooperated, as my left was still firmly attached to the struggling earth pony mare, who shot her pistol wildly, causing my left ear to ring horribly. The barbed wire bat swung down at me again and I ducked as best I could, twisting both my body and the earth pony mare attached to my wing. I heard a sickly crunching sound as the bat impacted her skull.

Her body crumpled to the ground, dragging me along with it. As I struggled to free myself, I saw the barbed wire bat rise up in front of my head. I closed my eyes and raised my talons in a futile attempt to block the magically-held weapon. Mercifully, I heard another crack from Rose’s rifle and the bat fell to the ground, along with the body of the unicorn stallion several feet away.

“Come on!” she shouted, grasping the body of the mare securely within her magic. I pulled hard and felt something snap from within the chest of the dead mare as I worked my wing free, folding it in and galloping over to Rose. “The door should be open by now,” she said. “We can make a run for it.”

A menacing roar ripped through the air causing everyone to pause and look around. With surprising speed, an angry grizzly burst from the surrounding trees and ploughed through several raiders who all had their rifles trained on us, knocking them aside and trampling them with its weight. An earth pony tried to raise his rifle to aim at the bear, but it reared up and swiped the gun from his skull, taking several teeth with it.

I gaped in awe. “Holy shit.”

“Told you bears are freaky!” Rose said, grabbing me. “Let’s go! Now!”

We ran for the rocky entrance, and as we passed the threshold, Rose telekinetically ripped the emerald key out of the hole and hit the button on the intercom. Several loud beeps rang out and there was the sound of motors spinning up. Turrets?

Several raiders tried to follow us into the entrance, but were cut short by a veritable swarm of bullets that tore them to pieces. Just before the door had completely closed, I saw the tail-end of the bear disappearing into the trees.

Looking around, I saw that we were standing within an old mining tunnel. The walls were chiselled rock with sporadic wooden support structures placed haphazardly along the path, while a chain of lightbulbs was strung from plank to plank, casting a dim glow on the dusty floor.

I let out a long sigh of relief, and Rose started giggling with nervous joy. “You know,” she said, “if you wanted to dance with the raider girl, you probably should’ve wrapped your wings around her, instead of burying them in her. Save that for the second date, at least.”

I glared at her and dug through my pack for a healing potion, my wings and flank burning fiercely from both strain and wounds. “That’s… really dark, Rose. And not funny.”

“It’s kinda funny,” she mumbled to herself. “Are you okay?”

“I got shot in the ass, my right wing is fucked up from that bat, and my left eardrum was probably blown out,” I said as I rubbed the side of my head. “I have no idea how earth ponies shoot without losing their hearing.” I downed the healing potion. “You?”

“My armor took a few hits, but I was able to take cover and return fire. Kept them off of me long enough for you to swoop in and uhm… provide some entertainment.”

She giggled slightly and I muttered, but then she touched my foreleg with a hoof. “Thank you, by the way,” she said quietly. I gave her a small smile as the healing potion worked to mend my wounds and hearing began to return to my left ear.

As I leaned against the wall, Rose jumped up, shed her armor, and began digging through her bag. I watched her with confused interest as she pulled a canteen, a scrub brush, and a bottle of hairspray from her pack.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Well, I can’t very well be a posh unicorn looking like hell and reeking of gunpowder, can I?” she asked with a refined accent that was both irresistibly charming and… so strange to hear from the tomboy mare.

I smiled. “I guess not.”

“And neither can you. Take it off,” she ordered with a regal authority that made me feel funny inside.

“...Yes ma’am.”

* * * * *

“Well, how do I look?” Rose asked demurely.

She stood with impeccable grace and poise, the sheen of her sable coat contrasted by the deep crimson of the pleated dress that flowed across it like a rouge waterfall. Her short raven mane had been transformed into a sophisticated layered bob that perfectly complimented her face, and her ruby eyes shone with a brilliant clarity, accented by the alluring shadow of expertly applied makeup. All of that, however, paled in comparison to her brilliant smile that outshone even the artisan beauty of The Heart of Ophir around her neck.

I was speechless. “You look…” Beautiful? Stunning? Amazing? I cleared my throat, “You look… different.”

Rose frowned.

Idiot! Idiot! Idiot!

“I mean,” I said quickly, “different good! Really good. You look… really good.” I turned away, trying desperately to hide my embarrassment as I admonished myself for being a blubbering idiot.

Rose just punched me playfully. “You look different too, dork.” She had meticulously scrubbed me free of blood and dirt and combed through my mane and tail, and I now wore a fine white shirt and a black suit jacket that Sterling had loaned me. Everything about it felt strange and wrong, but Rose looked me over and gave a satisfied snort. “One could say you even look handsome.”

I fidgeted uncomfortably and Rose just laughed, packing everything back into her pack. “Shall we?” she asked.

Sterling had mentioned that the mines were a great sprawling network of tunnels and caverns, and in order to get to the other side of the mountain, we’d have to pass through the great central cavern that was Emerald City. Colored ribbons hung at regular intervals, indicating which tunnel you were in and where you were heading. Right now, we had to follow the yellow ribbons to make our way towards the city.

‘Sprawling’ was an understatement when it came to these tunnels. They were a labyrinth of mass perplexity; an ever-expanding web of tunnels, channels, shafts, and burrows. We walked for what felt like hours under the oppressive stone of the great mountain above us, and I began to wonder if there were enough colors within the color spectrum to truly represent the amount of tunnels in this massive place.

Nevertheless, we continued to follow the yellow ribbon tunnels until we heard the dim roar of a crowd in the distance. It continued to get louder and louder as we turned into a wide tunnel paved in marble with a grand arch at the end. As we trotted through the arch, my breath was taken away by an amazingly beautiful sight.

The cavern was grand, perhaps not quite as big as Sterling made it sound, but nevertheless, very large. Immense emerald-colored stalactites hung from the ceiling like lofty chandeliers, all of them lit by motes of light that twinkled like stars, casting a great green radiant glow over the entirety of the cavern. Reflected light on the walls created a water-like effect that moved and shimmered like ripples in a pond.

The city itself was built in levels, the lowest being the market that we stood in. Opulent marble stairs led up to the next level that sprawled towards the cavern walls, with more marble stairs in the distance that led up to the next level that curved around almost the entirety of the cavern like a grand circular catwalk. More levels continued to wind up and around the perimeter of the cave, getting smaller and smaller, until the very top level that was simply a luxurious structure that resembled a palace set into the stone of the cavern.

Rose and I must have looked like idiots with our mouths hanging open as we stared up into the mysteriously beautiful city because within short order a unicorn butler dressed in a smart green coat trotted up to us. “First time, ma’am?” he asked.

We both tried our best to snap out of our bewilderment. Rose gave the butler a warm smile. “Why, yes actually. Is it that obvious?”

He smiled in return. “First timers always have the same look, ma’am. Before we proceed, may I see your key?”

“Of course,” Rose responded, and she levitated out the glowing emerald jewel.

“Right. Thank you, ma’am. Just had to make sure the key was genuine.”

Rose glanced at me. “One never can be too careful.”

“Indeed, ma’am. You’re currently in the Grand Bazaar. Up those steps over there, you’ll find our exquisite selection of restaurants and spas, as well as La Maison du Serpent and Castle Sage. You’ll find that class is determined by height within the Emerald City, and if you find yourself someplace you ought not to be, your key will... gently encourage you to desist. Should you have any questions during your stay, you may speak with a porter in a green blazer. We’re here to help.” The porter clicked his heels and bowed before Rose.

“Thank you so much,” Rose replied and the porter returned to his post by the arch. We walked into the bazaar, and Rose practically bounced with every step. “This is so exciting!”

While I was happy to see Rose so enthusiastic and happy, I also saw something she didn’t. The vast majority of ponies here were unicorns, and those that weren’t were effectively invisible, myself included. The porter that spoke to Rose didn’t so much as glance at me throughout the entire encounter, and every vendor and patron I looked at either avoided my gaze, or looked straight through me.

Rose stopped in front of a stall that had several very beautiful pieces of jewelry on display, eyeing the selection with glee. A thin old stallion in a well-maintained suit approached. “Are you looking for something in particular, ma’am?”

Rose met the gaze of the stallion. “I was just appreciating the beautiful necklaces you have on display.”

The stallion’s eyes appraised Rose, and settled on the Heart of Ophir. “Well ma’am, you are more than welcome to try on any piece I have, but I’m afraid I don’t have anything that could quite compare to the unique beauty of the one that already resides around your neck.” He flashed Rose a scintillating smile.

She blushed and gave a small smile in return, her eyes glancing towards me. I looked away and tried to hide my own smile.

An older mare with a very large and very fancy hat stood on the far side of the display, and she looked up at Rose, fiddling with the broad pearl necklace around her neck. “Well, I’d be inclined to agree with Mr. Marquise! That piece is quite the number. Who crafted it for you?”

“It’s a Hearthstone piece,” Rose said hesitantly.

“Hearthstone? Never heard the name. Probably too rich for me!” the old dam chuckled. “What about your griffin?”

“Oh?” Rose glanced at me and I gave her a nervous look. “He’s not a griffon. He’s a hippogriff.”

“Well, aren’t you just surrounded by exclusivity!” The old mare chuckled. “He is rather cute, and I’ve gotten rather lonely since my husband died… Would you take two thousand?”

Rose’s composure waned. “Two… two thousand?”

The old mare rolled her eyes. “Fine… Four thousand caps. Final offer.”

Rose shook her head and gave the old mare a stern look. “Storm Mist isn’t for sale.” There was something about the indignant tone in Rose’s voice that made my heart sing with joy, and I smiled.

The old mare scoffed. “Well fine then. Maintain your exclusivity, girl. But one day, if you’re particularly unlucky, you’ll be just as old and lonesome as me.” She trotted off with a huff.

The jeweler gave Rose an apologetic glance. “I’m sorry about that. Mrs. Thorn can be a handful sometimes, but she’s a valued patron. Perhaps… I could interest you in some earrings to decorate your hippogriff manservant?”

Rose did her best to hide the look of disgust on her face. “N... no, thank you.”

We turned away from the jeweler and walked back into the fray of ponies milling about, before Rose looked up at me with a sad, apologetic look.

“So,” I whispered in her ear with a grin, “I’m worth more than four thousand caps to you?”

Rose’s apologetic look devolved into a smug smile. “I would have let you go for three thousand, but not to that old dam.” She winked.

“I think I could look quite dashing with earrings.”

Rose snorted. “You would look ridiculous.”

“No more ridiculous than I already feel.” I rolled my eyes.

Rose snickered. “One short day in Emerald City won’t kill you. We may never see this place again, so we might as well enjoy it while we’re here.” She gave me a mollifying smile. “I’ll try to keep the creepy old broads off you.”

Despite the blatant racism we witnessed, the city itself was beautiful, and I couldn’t deny Rose the opportunity to play noble. We were just about to continue browsing the bazaar when a mare’s voice called from within the crowd.

“Quartz? Quartz Rose?”

We both froze dead in our tracks as Rose gave me a furtive glance. “Well shit.”

Footnote: Level Up!

New Perk: Aerial Fighter
Your skills in the air have doubled! You’ve become a stronger flier and are able to maneuver better, allowing you to fight and dodge more effectively while in flight.

Author's Note

Holy crap, seven chapters already!? I fondly remember the days when I was four chapters ahead. x.X Anyway, back on the road with this one and into the heart of the Society in the Western Wasteland! Things are going to start to get more challenging for Stormy and Rose...

Chapter 8: The Rose Revolution

Chapter 8: The Rose Revolution

“It's the people who don't recognize the racism within themselves that can be the most damaging because they don't see it.”

- Sterling K. Brown

“Quartz! It is you!” a lavender mare in a brown tweed suit exclaimed from atop the marble staircase as she waved and started marking her way down into the throng of ponies within the bazaar.

“Friend of yours?” I asked.

“A ghost from my past,” Rose murmured, staring at the approaching figure. “How the hell could she be here?”

The unicorn approached, adjusting her cateye glasses and inspecting Rose. I noticed the lavender mare had a PipBuck on her foreleg as well. “Well, this is a surprise! I had never thought that I’d see one of the Rose sisters again!”

“That… makes two of us,” Rose said hesitantly. “Why aren’t you at 131?”

“Well now, that’s quite the story! Oh, and you haven’t even introduced us… is this your husband?”

Rose and I both stared at the unicorn then glanced at each other before we both burst out in laughter.

“Did… did I commit a faux pas?” the mare asked abashedly. “I’m still not entirely used to the societal structure here…”

I smiled and gave a small laugh. “Well, you’re the first pony to actually acknowledge that I even exist. So I’ll take what I can get.”

“This is Storm Mist,” Rose continued, “my… friend and companion.” She gestured at the mare. “Storm, this is Abacus Flint--”

“Though I prefer Abby,” the mare interjected. “So much less formal. Heh. Would you like to catch up over coffee?”

“Sure,” Rose replied, and we followed the mare up the marble steps. She led us to a patio outside a swanky coffee joint, and we all took a seat around a small round table. One of the baristas stepped out from the behind the counter and approached us.

“Your usual, Ms. Flint?”

“Yes, please.”

“And for the misses?”

“Oh, uhm...” Rose looked lost for a moment. “I think I’ll have whatever she’s having.”

“Very good,” he said. I opened my mouth momentarily to order something, but the barista walked quickly away. Rose seemed to notice, and she put a hoof on my foreleg.

“I’m sorry about that… I can order something for you when he gets back?”

“No… that’s fine,” I said with a sigh. Rose gave me a sympathetic look, and I gave her a listless smile in return. “How do you two know each other?” I asked, attempting to change the subject.

“Well, Abby was a senior scientist in my stable. Worked with probabilities and stuff. She was part of the team that petitioned the Overmare to start opening up Stables again.”

Abacus nodded. “Mathematician by trade. Not nearly as exciting a profession as technical researcher, like Quartz’s sister.” She turned to Rose. “How is Crim, anyway?”

Rose seemed to bristle at the mention of her sister’s name. “She’s... dead.” I placed a talon on her hoof and squeezed lightly. She let out a long sigh and relaxed somewhat.

“Oh… oh dear, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean--”

“It’s okay,” Rose interrupted. “You couldn’t have known.”

The barista trotted back over to the table and placed a cup down in front of Abby and Rose, then gave me a disapproving glance before trotting off.

What the hell was his problem? After a moment, I realized he must have been judging me for having the audacity to place my claw on Rose’s hoof, and I rolled my eyes in contempt.

“How is it you came to leave 131?” Rose asked, taking a sip of her coffee.

“Well, that’s quite a story… and it all starts with you.” Abby smiled.

“Me?” Rose asked.

“You and your sister, yes. Do you remember the emergency research meeting that was called right before the two of you escaped?”

“Of course.”

“Well, someone had tipped off the Overmare to your plans, and she immediately called the meeting, hoping she’d be able to-- at the very least-- talk some sense into Crim.”

“And, failing that?”

“Imprison her. And probably interrogate her to find out who else may have been involved. But just as she called the meeting, the override alarms started going off. She tried to close the door with her terminal, but was locked out.” Abby laughed. “She was furious! An Overmare locked out of her own terminal!”

Rose smiled. “Bout’ time that bitch got a taste of her own damn medicine.”

Abby grinned as if gossiping with a long lost friend. “I swear she was spitting fire! Screamed at all of us, even though none of us had any idea what was going on. She made frantic cries to security, but apparently somepony had erased both ‘Crimson Rose’ and “Quartz Rose’ from the PipBuck tag pool and security was unable to locate you two.”

Rose let out a laugh as she spoke with heartfelt admiration, “Yeah, that was Crim. She was a genius. Managed to route all the Overmare controls to the terminal by the entrance. We lucked out when we found that Buck was on duty that night.”

“You and him had a thing, right?” Abby asked.

“He had a thing for me, and I… kinda, sorta used it to our advantage. I felt really bad when I had to knock him out...”

Abby smirked. “He was fine, became one of your biggest supporters, actually.”

“Really?” Rose asked in surprise. “Never expected that.”

Rose glanced down at her coffee, then gave me an inquisitive look as she nudged the cup towards me. I brought the cup to my beak and tasted the weird, wickedly sweet bitter drink. I made a face and Rose giggled as I pushed the cup back over to her.

“Yeah,” Abacus continued, “he helped flip Security once the revolution began.”

“Revolution?” Rose asked.

“Yeah. The Rose Revolution. When the two of you escaped, it sent ripples of unrest throughout the stable, and sparked a revolt. Suddenly data wasn’t just trends and forecasts, and pictures and video on our screens weren’t just research material… It all became a real, tangible place where we could all make a real, tangible difference, instead of just toiling away uselessly inside that stable until we all died and were replaced by our kids.”

I glanced at Rose, who looked completely flabbergasted as Abby continued. “Naturally, some ponies were completely happy and content with their positions within the stable, but we had broad support. It seemed like more than half the stable stepped up to help with the revolt. When Buck finally got security behind us, we knew it was time.”

Rose stared at the mare from across the table. “What did you do?”

“We all marched into the Overmare’s office and took over. Well, sort of. The Overmare locked us out and security worked with the technical research team to find a way to override the lock. When we finally got in, she had drunk nearly an entire bottle of Wild Pegasus and begged and cried for us to not kill her. At the time, I thought it was strange. None of us had ever intended to harm her-- just to lock her up and take over. When we gained access to her terminal, we found out that she had standing orders from Stable-Tec to never actually open the doors, no matter what research we brought to her attention. Can you believe that?”

Rose scrunched up her face and stared at her coffee. “Then… what were we actually doing there?”

Abby shrugged. “No idea. She submitted our findings weekly to a private Stable-Tec server. Based on the IP, I would guess it was out east somewhere. Maybe Stable-Tec HQ? Anyway, we opened the door to 131 permanently, giving every resident the opportunity to stay, or to go.”

Rose leaned back in her chair, considering everything she had heard. I smiled as I spoke, “Well, I’m not terribly surprised that Rose and her sister inadvertently started a revolution. Rose is a hoofful on her own, I couldn’t begin to imagine what two of her could do.” She gave me a sly grin in response.

“Wait… you call her ‘Rose’?” Abacus asked.

“...Yes?”

She squealed. “That’s soo cuute!” Rose blushed and I just looked confused. “Well anyway, I must get going. The Mayor wanted me to look over some expense tables today before submitting them to the crown, and I probably shouldn’t keep him waiting. Would you like to meet up later tonight?”

“Uhh, sure,” Rose said, “I suppose, if we’re still--”

“Excellent!” Abby exclaimed, fiddling with her PipBuck. “I saved your tag, so I’ll find you when I’m off.” She called to the barista, “Put both on my account, please!”

“Of course, Ms. Flint,” the barista responded.

“Oh, it was so good catching up!” She flashed us both a smile. “I’ll see you later!” As she trotted off, Rose and I sat in stunned silence for a moment.

I couldn’t help but smirk. “The Rose Revolution!”

Rose pushed my face away with a hoof. “Oh, shut up.”

* * * * *

“We’ve barely been here an hour and I’m already exhausted,” Rose huffed as we stood in the middle of the square overlooking the Grand Bazaar. “Dare to venture a guess as to how much a room might be?”

I gave her a pained grin. “Probably… a lot? But it doesn’t hurt to wander around or ask, I guess.”

We discovered that La Maison du Serpent and Castle Sage were both very large, very fancy hotels, and we decided to try our luck with Castle Sage, for no other reason than the name seemed friendlier.

The entrance opened into a large foyer, lined with plush red carpet that cut a path through the polished granite floors to a grand mahogany reception desk, before curving effortlessly over to a bank of elevators. Large planters sat in the corners with artificial cherry blossom trees full of pink petals planted within them, and the ceiling featured a mural that made the inside of the hotel lobby look like a courtyard that rose up towards a pristine blue sky.

Behind the reception desk, I was delighted to see a light pink pegasus mare with a golden mane. As we approached, she spoke with a feathery accent, “Good afternoon, Mademoiselle! How may I assist you?”

Rose took a deep breath. “I would like to… request your room rates, if I may.”

“Of course!” the mare responded. “May I see your key so I can give you an accurate appraisal?” Rose passed the key over, and the mare behind the desk inserted it into a device before returning it. “Ah, well, since you already have a room, you could book a second at a discounted rate of 600 caps per night. When would you like to book it for?”

Rose blinked. “I… already have a room?”

The pink mare gave a smile that was some combination of piteous and amused. “I see. Well, it is not quite a room exactly, it is a residence.” The mare paused to gauge Rose’s reaction, who-- to her credit-- didn’t look any more surprised than she did a moment ago. The pink mare revealed the slightest hint of a pout as she continued. “1807. Take the elevator up to floor ten, walk across the sky bridge and take the elevator there up to eighteen. It’ll be on the right, and your key will let you in. We also have a complimentary dinner service, if you would like.”

Rose cleared her throat. “That would be wonderful. For two, please.” She gave me a sympathetic look.

The mare smiled. “Of course… May I ask your name?”

“Crimson Rose.”

“Ah! C'est un beau nom pour une belle fille! Well, it is my pleasure to have made your acquaintance, Miss Rose.” The pegasus mare curtsied and gave me a subtle smile and nod. Rose blushed.

As soon as the elevator doors closed, I turned to Rose. “So, Vino’s accent--”

“Terrible!” Rose laughed.

“Right?” I said. “Her accent was way cuter.”

“Extraordinarily cute.”

“So… should I get a different room?” I asked with a wry smile.

“Pfft, she’s cute, but I’m not into mares like that,” Rose said, then hesitated. “Wait, unless you mean... you want--”

“No, no!” I waved my talons. “I was just... making a joke.”

Rose looked at me with a crooked smile for a moment before giving me a teasing shove. “Well I guess you aren’t always serious, broody, and boring.”

I shrugged and rolled my eyes. “I can learn.” Rose smirked.

As we arrived on the tenth floor, the elevator chimed and the doors opened to a grand balcony that overlooked the lower levels of the hotel and the city below. In the center of the balcony was a large gazebo with quartz stone pillars, large enough to house a small band or string ensemble. Rose couldn’t help herself as she bounded up the steps of the gazebo and swung around one of the pillars with a laugh before dropping back to all fours.

“This is amazing!” she said. “How many weddings do you think they’ve had here?”

“I... have no idea,” I replied honestly.

“Wouldn’t it be just the perfect place, though!?” she replied wistfully. “Exchanging vows within the sparkling lights, far above the city below?”

“Far above?” I looked down at the buildings below, then up at the sparkling stalactite chandelier. “We’re not even halfway up.”

“Semantics, my dear Storm Mist,” she said as she ran a hoof along the quartz pillar. “Can’t you let a girl dream?”

I gave her a placating smile, then trotted over to the balcony and looked over the edge, admiring the aerial view of the busy Grand Bazaar and the urban park below. Suddenly, I heard a stallion’s voice from behind me.

“Hey griffon! Don’t even think about it! No flying within city limits.”

I turned away from the railing and saw a heavy-set brown earth pony in a green blazer, likely a porter. “Oh, I’m sorry,” I said, “I wasn’t planning on flying anywhere.”

“Likely story. You griffons are all the same: think you’re exempt from the rules. Shouldn’t you be on your way to serf housing? Who’d you steal that jacket from, anyway?”

“What?” I asked incredulously. “I didn’t steal it from anyone!”

“Oh, so you’re a liar too!” the stallion sneered. “You better get out of here before I drag you straight to Mayor Pastorious himself and charge you with insubordination, stealing, and lying!”

“I--”

“Excuse me!” Rose exclaimed with a nearly regal level of outrage as she approached. “Just who do you think you are?”

“Idle Hooves, ma’am, Emerald City Security. Just taking care of this griffon before he becomes a problem for you.”

Rose narrowed her eyes as she stared up at the chunky stallion. “Now see here, you feckless ignoble butterball, your abhorrent lack of perceptual awareness is matched only by your despotic propensity for unwarranted bullishness! Storm Mist here is not a griffon-- a fact that should be exceedingly obvious to even the dullest of wits should one venture to simply open their eyes. If your mental capacity wasn’t equivalent to that of a brahmin, you would realize that he is something far nobler, far more unique and unequalled: a hippogriff. And, race notwithstanding, he is something even more important: my friend.”

The stallion looked positively terrified as the mare that was half his size berated him. “Now you, however, are a poster child for the exceedingly average: a brazen, contemptuous imp of a stallion with delusions of adequacy who is egregiously wasting my air. So let me make this exceedingly clear for you.” She backed the larger stallion into a corner as she spoke. “You Shall Never. Speak. To Storm Mist. Like That. Again. Understood?”

The stallion nodded frantically, and Rose disgustedly waved her hoof at him. “Begone.” He hurriedly backed away, bowed quickly, and ran off.

I didn’t understand half of what Rose had just said, and I had never seen her so aggressive and intimidating without a weapon, but I understood the message, and I was ridiculously thankful that she was on my side. I beamed at her as she turned and walked slowly back towards me. “Rose, that was incredible!”

But Rose didn’t smile back. She just looked at me with sad, tired eyes. “Can we go up to the residence now? I’m tired of this place...”

* * * * *

We walked through the door into a beautifully decorated suite: Hardwood floors stretched into a wide family room with delicate cream-colored couches and panoramic windows with a spectacular view of the city. Sophisticated crown moulding framed a recessed pocket in the ceiling that emitted a gentle daylight glow; the soft, flattering light offsetting the shimmering green reflections from the stalactite chandeliers outside.

Rose, however, took no joy from the sight as she simply walked into the room and collapsed on one of the couches, wrapping her hooves around a pillow and closing her eyes. Rose’s happy demeanor had vanished when I was targeted by the fat porter; her spirit completely deflated, leaving only a quiet, dejected Rose. It was agonizing to watch the life and excitement drain out of her, and I contemplated what exactly I could do to help...

Ditching my saddle bags, I trotted over and laid on the floor in front of the couch and looked at her with concern. “Are you going to be okay?” I asked quietly.

She opened her eyes and looked at me sadly. “Yeah,” she mumbled, “but right now I just want to sleep.”

I nodded and grabbed an immensely soft down blanket that was sitting on the back of a chair and draped it over her. I was about to walk away when I heard her speak again. “Storm?”

“Yeah?”

She hesitated for a moment, then wrapped herself tightly into the blanket. “You’re a hero.”

I gave a quiet snort and a little smile in response. “And you’re silly. I’ll wake you up when dinner gets here.”

Leaving Rose in the family room, I took off the fancy clothes I was wearing and explored the rest of the suite. For being called a “residence” it wasn’t actually all that big. Down the hall, I found an office with a large oak bookshelf and a desk that was perfect for reading. Across from the office there was a very nice bathroom lined in a dark gray tile, and at the end of the hall was a master bedroom with a very large circular bed, as well as a smaller guest room adjacent. The entire place was pleasantly light and airy though. I decided to dig through the books within the office in an effort to pass the time…

The passage of time was a strange thing in this city. There was no night, and no day. Just the persistent emerald luminance that shone down upon the busy square below; never waning, and never resting. As it was, I had no idea how much time had passed when I heard a knock at the door.

A young unicorn colt in a green jacket stood behind a cart full of food. “Good evening, dinner for Ms. Rose and guest?”

“Sure, leave it on the counter and I’ll wake her up.”

“Very good,” responded the Colt, levitating several dishes to the counter and giving a curt bow. “Good night.”

I placed a claw on Rose’s shoulder and gave her a little nudge. “Wakey wakey, time for bakey...”

Rose groaned and pulled the blanket over her head. “What does that even mean?”

“No idea,” I admitted. “Something my dad used to say.”

“Your dad was weird.”

“Yup!” I said with a grin. “But not as weird as you!”

Rose peeked her head out from the blanket with a flat look. “Hey!”

“C’mon, you’ll feel better once you get some food in you.”

I started to open the trays that the porter had delivered and discovered a colorful array of mouthwatering dishes: celery soup with fresh bread, tossed garden salad, pasta with a broccoli sauce, and a fancy cheesecake dessert topped with strawberries. The Society may be full of elitist scumbags, but damn if the food wasn’t absolutely amazing.

We filled a couple plates before sitting down in the family room. I dug in, but she hesitated and stared at the dish. After a moment, she asked, “Why doesn’t it bother you?”

I swallowed a mouthful of food and met Rose’s gaze. “What? The racism?” I asked. She nodded. “It does… but I’ve seen it before. I grew up with ghoul parents, remember? You’d be surprised how much of the Wasteland hates ghouls…”

Rose scrunched her nose up in thought. “So… how do you deal with it?”

I sighed. “Well… when it came to general contempt, my father would just ignore it as best he could. Sometimes we’d get chased out of town at gunpoint… and sometimes we’d be shot at.”

“That’s horrible!” Rose exclaimed. “I couldn’t stand to see someone attack you just because you’re different… I wanted to punch that pudgy asshole’s lights out just for speaking to you like that!”

I smiled. I knew that feeling: that violent indignation when someone you care about is being threatened. “I get it. I often felt that way with my dad. He would quietly take it while I’d be seething with rage. But you handled it amazingly! Where’d you learn to speak like that?”

Rose had levitated a piece of bread and was just about to dip it into her celery soup when she paused. “It’s... stupid.” She let out a long sigh, dropped the bread back down to the plate, and paused again, as if contemplating whether or not to talk about it. I waited patiently until she decided to speak.

“When I was a little filly, I was obsessed with history. But I wasn’t interested in all the exciting stuff that happened during the war, instead I was enamored with pre-war Equestria. It sounded like a fairy tale: lush, beautiful landscapes filled with friendly towns and vast, busy cities where ponies of every race lived in harmony. But the greatest city of all was Equestria’s capitol, Canterlot. I found picture after picture of exquisite mares dressed in stunning dresses...”

She hesitated and blushed slightly. “I... saw myself in those pictures. I escaped into the fantasy, trying to learn all I could. I used to rearrange the utensils on the dinner table into their proper places. Drove my mother nuts. Crim used to call me ‘Princess Quartz’, and I would address her as my first knight. She was my hero even then... “

Rose sighed as she stood up and walked up to the window. “I grew out of it eventually, but this place… It stirred up all those long-buried feelings. A part of me thought I could finally be the mare I saw in those pictures so long ago...” She gave the vista beyond our window a longing look for a brief moment before lowering her eyes. “But if something in this Wasteland seems too good to be true, it probably is. I wanted to live like a princess for a day… but not like this.”

I stood as well, my heart twisted in knots as I listened with undivided attention. If there was ever any doubt as to whether Rose and I were truly friends, it had been replaced with utter certainty. On one claw I was happy that she trusted me enough to be so open and honest, but on the other I hated seeing her so conflicted.

“I wanted to walk into this place as a princess with you as my--“ she hesitated for a moment, then turned away from the window to face me. “As my… equal. I wanted to share this with you, not inflict it upon you... I see how these ponies avoid you, I saw the look the barista gave you… and that giant pudgy asshole--”

“Rose,” I interrupted, stepping towards her, “the thing that hurt the most wasn’t the looks I got, or even the racism itself... The thing that hurts the most is watching the light of enthusiasm you had get snuffed out because of it.”

Her sad eyes followed me as I sat beside her at the window. “You put so much effort into this: the cleaning, the dress, the makeup, making me look presentable...” She gave me a half-hearted laugh in response to that last one. “And when I saw you for the first time after all that, I was speechless. Because you were... you are beautiful.”

Rose stared at me for a long moment, her glassy gaze studying each of my eyes in turn. She took a deep breath. “Storm Mist, I--”

A sudden knock at the door caused both of us to look towards the entrance. I exchanged a glance with Rose and she lowered her gaze and let out a sigh.

“I got it,” I said, moving to the entrance.

I opened the door to Abacus Flint, who gave me a friendly smile. “Hey! Told you guys I’d catch up with you!” She glanced past me at Rose. “Is... now a bad time?”

“Naw, come in,” I replied, walking back into the family room. “We just got food, if you’re hungry.”

Abby followed, grabbing a bowl of soup for herself, and we gathered around the table. We sat as Abby sampled her soup and I dug back into mine. Rose stared at her plate and idly nudged a piece of bread with a hoof before finally hazarding a bite. As delicious as the food was, the awkward silence between us grew, and I felt the urge to start some kind of dialogue before the quiet sounds of chewing became oppressive.

“So, uhh,” I began lamely, “Abby-- how’d you go from being a stable pony to working for the Society?”

Abby met my gaze. “Well... I’m no good at fighting, I don’t have a medical background, and I’m awful at selling or bartering… I am quite good with numbers, however, and I specialize in predictive analysis, so the Society was a good fit. Given my skills, I was offered an advanced position and a safe place to live, with the benefit of not having to sign the standard contract that most serfs do.”

“Serfs? What are serfs?”

“Servants, basically,” Abby said, glancing away. “They get a small stipend and a place to stay in exchange for contracting their service to the Society... in perpetuity.”

“In what now?” I asked.

“Until they die,” Rose said through a mouthful of food. “Basically they’re slaves.”

“They are not slaves. They are serfs,” Abby corrected. Rose just rolled her eyes and looked away.

“But they sign a contract to serve the Society until they die?” I asked, considering the implications. “Why would someone choose to do that?”

“Not everyone in the Wasteland is capable of defending themselves or protecting those they care about,” Abby replied. “For some, it’s the best thing they can do to ensure their survival. While I’m thankful that I didn’t have to do that, I absolutely would have done so if I needed to. I’d rather be here than out there.”

While I could understand her reasoning, I just couldn’t wrap my mind around essentially signing your life away. Was relative safety really worth permanently sacrificing your personal freedom? And where exactly did they all stay? I didn’t recall seeing any on our way in.

“How many serfs are there?” I asked.

“Hundreds,” Abby replied, then shortly corrected herself, “well, hundreds here in Emerald City. The Society at large employs thousands.”

“Huh. We came in from the tunnel on the Ophir side of the mountain, but didn’t see much of anything until we were pretty much inside the city.”

Abby nodded. “Yeah, that’s intentional. The yellow, green, and silver ribbon tunnels all lead to main entrances that are monitored and defended. In the event that a hostile force is able to get through the outside defenses, the hope is that the tunnels will be confusing enough to slow down their advance until security forces can take care of them. Serf housing is located in the green ribbon tunnel, and they have their own tunnels that lead to every part of the city so they can move around without being seen.”

“Out of sight, out of mind,” Rose muttered in an annoyed tone. She got up, levitating her empty plate beside her as she walked to the counter and grabbed seconds. Abby sighed in response.

“Something like that,” Abby replied quietly. She looked up at her old friend. “Quartz... what is bothering you so much?”

Rose turned around to face Abby with angry eyes. She opened her mouth as if to speak, but stopped abruptly. Her eyes rested on me for a moment before she closed them tightly, pursed her lips and looked away. She stared at the ground as she spoke. “Y’know, a month ago, this place probably wouldn’t have bothered me. I probably would have just ignored it as efficiently as you seem to be able to.” She raised her head and made eye contact with Abby, who shifted uncomfortably.

“Are you talking about the serfs? I’m just acknowledging that there’s a difference between--”

“Shut up, Abacus,” Rose snapped, “it’s my turn to talk now. And it’s more than that.”

Abby stopped and watched Rose intently, her face painted with shock and mild indignation. Rose simply lowered her head and stared at the ground again, her words quiet and measured.

“We were both slaves in 131. Slaves to Stable-Tec. We would have spent our whole lives in that prison, working day after day. Generation after generation of slaves, working our whole lives... for what? They didn’t care about the research that was being done; they were going to keep those doors closed indefinitely! So what? What purpose did we have? What meaning for our existence was there?”

Rose raised her head once more and stared daggers into the other stable pony. “I saw the trap, Abacus. I watched its jaws slowly close around all of us, and I wanted out. I chose freedom... but freedom isn’t free. Especially in the Wasteland. Every day it takes a piece of you: sometimes it’s just a bullet hole, sometimes it’s a leg or a wing… and sometimes it’s the person you love most.”

Tears began to form at the edges of Rose’s eyes, but she did her best to fight them off as she continued with just the slightest waver in her voice. “But for every physical thing that the Wasteland takes from you, there’s a mental cost as well. Crim was a hero. She always did the right thing. After she died, I tried to live up to that. To be a hero like her. I even took her name to always remind me to do better. But I failed. I spent so much time out there that even the concept of slavery, the thing which I loathed and fought to escape, became mundane. It wasn’t until I met Storm Mist in the back of a slavers wagon that I started to realize what the Wasteland had taken from me.”

Rose’s gaze softened as she made eye contact with me and stepped forward. “You helped me escape my bonds, and in return I helped you out of yours. I was about to jump out the back of that wagon when you asked me something...”

“The other slaves...” I said, remembering the first time I met Rose. She nodded, then lowered her gaze.

“I’m ashamed to admit it… but I didn’t even realize there were other slaves with us. All I saw at first was the hippogriff that could help me get that horn lock off and escape. When you asked about the others, I realized what the Wasteland took from me... I realized that I was no longer the hero. I had forgotten what that word really meant.”

Rose gave me a compassionate look before turning back to Abby. “So why does this place bother me so much? Because it reminds me of who I was before I met Storm Mist. Because Crim would be disgusted by it. Because it’s sheer ignorant complacency and racist elitism on a grand scale...”

She paused for a moment, appraising the mare in front of her. “And because I see what the Wasteland has taken from you, and I’m sorry that you can’t.”

Both Abby and I sat stunned as Rose simply turned away and walked down the hall to the bedroom, her plate of food silently levitating beside her. After a moment, Abby turned to me. “I… think I should go.” I nodded and we exchanged goodnights before she headed out the door.

* * * * *

As I lay on the sofa in the family room, I couldn’t help but mull over what Rose had said. I understood now why she had referred to me as a “hero”, despite my reluctance to accept it. I now knew that the sad look I had seen on her face wasn’t just sympathy for that poor stallion who had to bury his brother, or sadness over remembering her lost sister: it was her realizing that she had lost a part of herself.

She had spent so much time alone out there, whereas I always had someone. I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to face the Wasteland alone, or what it might do to me if I was… Would I retain the morals I have now, or would it break me?

The sound of a door opening followed by soft hoofsteps snapped me out of my introspective reverie, and Rose poked her head around the corner. “She’s gone?”

“Yeah,” I replied. “She’s been gone for a while now.”

As I looked at Rose, I realized that she was no longer wearing the dress or makeup that she had donned before we got here. Her mane was no longer put up and there wasn’t a trace of sophistication to be found upon her. She had even removed the Heart of Ophir.

“You’re that done with this place, huh?” I asked, motioning towards her and sitting up.

“Yeah… I decided I liked being myself more.” She gave a long sigh. “Can I... admit something to you?”

“Of course.”

“I’m… terrified of being alone.”

Her words dropped like an anvil on my thoughts: a simple phrase that perfectly summed up what I had been thinking about myself, but not something I expected out of Rose. After a moment, I got up, walked over to the mare, and wrapped my forelegs around her in a hug. She leaned into me as I quietly spoke.

“That makes two of us.”

Footnote: ...

Author's Note

It's amazingly hard to get back on the writing wagon after you've fallen off, I tell you what. I'm so sorry this took SOO long to get out. x.X I'm going to do my best to make sure that the next one doesn't take as long and stick to every three weeks MAX. Once I get back into the swing of things, I should be able to do every two weeks again.

All that aside, I hope you guys are still enjoying the story. I have it planned out in a five act format, and the next chapter should mark the end of act one. I've really loved reading all your comments so far, and hope you enjoy what's coming next! ^^

~ Forest Rain

Chapter 10: Silverhoof

Chapter 10: Silverhoof

“Never let a serious crisis go to waste. ... It's an opportunity to do things you thought you could not do before.”

- Rahm Emanuel

Our kiss was cut short by the imminent threat of death.

Red energy weapon fire screamed through the diner, ripping through the plywood that boarded up the windows. Several bolts sizzled through the dried-out vinyl-covered furniture, setting a bench and a couple chairs on fire. As we took cover behind the bar, I saw that the wall and ceiling behind us were covered in scorch marks. A tile from the drop ceiling fell, spreading dust and debris everywhere.

Before I could even reach for a weapon, Rose had levitated both her rifle and pistol out of her bag and whipped around to return fire on our unseen attackers. I quickly slammed the ammo can shut, worked the latch, and threw it in my saddle bag. We were in a cramped area, too small for my axe, and we were pinned down by energy weapon fire. I drew my knife because I couldn’t think of what else to do.

“Fuck!” Rose cursed as she ducked down behind the bar to reload. “Where the fuck did they come from!? They came out of nowhere!” She slid six more rounds into the pistol, then jumped back up to return fire.

“It was Silverhoof raiders that took your mother from us. That town’s not safe anymore…”

The words of my father came to mind, and I thought about the frantic wagon ride, the ponies clad in black, their black helmets and gas masks… only one of them had an energy weapon that night, and that’s all it took to incinerate my mother. Rose and I were easily facing a half dozen, and just like all those years ago, I was basically useless.

Part of the bartop broke off, falling to the ground in a smoldering heap. An errant bolt whizzed through the diner and struck Rose directly in the shoulder, melting through the edge of a reinforced plate and burning through her stable suit. She yelled, then dropped back down behind the bar.

“Shit!”

My mind was reeling to catch up. We entered through the front, but was there another exit? A kitchen door maybe? A window that wasn’t boarded up? Damn it. We had gotten ourselves pinned because I was too excited and didn’t check my exits or make sure we had an escape plan. Stupid!

Without warning, the laser fire stopped. The fire had spread to more furniture and started creeping its way up the wall as smoke gathered above us and seeped out through the multitude of broken windows. From beyond the fire and smoke, we heard a stallion’s voice call out.

“Anypony left alive in there?”

The voice sounded amplified, as if it was played back through a speaker.

“You are in possession of government property. We want it back.”

Government property? What government? The Ministry of Wartime Technology stopped being a thing when the balefire bombs fell. He couldn’t possibly mean my parent’s stash, could he? But what else? I looked at Rose, who was digging through her pack. “What are you doing?”

She grabbed the pack of drugs that we had taken from the raider camp yesterday, popping a Mint-al and one of the orange Buck pills into her mouth. She also grabbed one of the Dash inhalers. “Do you trust me?”

“Of course, but–”

“When I attack, you run. Go out the back, stay low. I’ll be right behind you.”

I shook my head. “Rose, I won’t–”

The front door was kicked open so hard the hinges ripped off the wall and it fell sideways into a burning pile of furniture. The force kicked up a cloud of burning embers that floated lazily in the air as a nightmarish shadow emerged in the front entry.

He was a black-clad armored pegasus who donned a full-coverage helmet with an integrated gas mask that made his head look almost insectoid in nature. A battle saddle was strapped to his back, two laser rifles strapped to either side. His tail also seemed to be mechanical in nature, made of metal links that twitched like a cat’s tail, topped with a deadly bladed “stinger” of sorts.

“I can hear two of you talking in here,” he said with an even, disinterested tone. “Return the government property to us and we might let you live.”

Rose put the inhaler to her lips and I readied my knife. I wasn’t going to leave her. We were either going to fight and win together, or get turned into ash together. My mother died because I couldn’t fight. I wasn’t going to let the same thing happen to Rose.

She pressed the button on the inhaler and took a deep breath…

Suddenly, she bolted upright and charged sideways, guns blazing at the soldier standing in the doorway. She moved as fast as a feral ghoul’s charge, bolting around the bar and working the trigger mechanisms on her weapons at incredible speed. She hit the soldier several times, but he returned fire almost as quickly. He stumbled sideways but kept firing, slowly catching up to Rose as she weaved around the edge of the room.

I took the opportunity to charge him from the side with claws and knife. I grabbed the side of one of his laser rifles, burning my foreleg slightly, and stabbed at his neck. The blade deflected off one of the plates in his armor, leaving a small rip in the uniform, but leaving him otherwise unharmed. I dropped my knife and grabbed my axe just as his line of fire caught up to Rose.

The red energy bolts ripped into Rose’s barding, melting steel plate and piercing through her stable suit. The force of being hit by two automatic energy rifles at once pushed her violently back against the wall, cracking the plaster. She grit her teeth and fought to return fire, but even in this drugged up state, she couldn’t last forever against the onslaught of energy bolts, and her telekinesis failed. Her weapons clattered to the floor and her horn went dark.

I brought the axe down with all my might towards the soldier’s head, but he stopped shooting and twisted at the last second. My axe caught the edge of the soldier’s helmet, tearing part of it off before the blade lodged itself in an armor plate on his shoulder.

“Agh, fuck!”

In an instant, his scorpion tail slashed across my face and I jumped back. My vision filled with blood as he turned on me, ripping the axe from his armor and throwing it to the ground. I knew I was dead.

“You–” he started, then paused. “You’re coming with me.” Behind him, I could see two other highly armored soldiers step up to the doorway.

I looked over at Rose. She was covered in burns and scorch marks. The laser rifles had shredded her stable suit, despite the enhanced protection that Iron Jade built into it, and her entire body was smoking. She was slumped against the wall, her pleading eyes locked on mine, her mouth twitching as if she was trying to say something.

She was going to die. She was going to die and I couldn’t do anything to save her. Just like my mom. Just like my dad. And probably just like me. Tears filled my eyes and mixed with the blood, obscuring my vision even more.

“Let’s go,” said the soldier, firmly. He aimed his rifles of death at me and motioned for me to walk through the door.

I looked outside at the other two soldiers. They both wore the exact same armor; they’d both be just as hard to kill. I was fucked. I could try again to take one of them down and probably get myself killed immediately, or I could go with them, leading them away from Rose and maybe– by some miracle– she might survive. I closed my eyes tightly, lowered my head, and took a step towards the door.

I suddenly heard a weird popping noise and saw a spray of blood and gray matter from outside. The head of one of the two soldiers out front had violently exploded into pieces without warning. As his body crumpled to the ground, I heard a distant bang rumble through the air like sharp thunder.

“Incoming!” yelled the other soldier, wheeling around and aiming his battle saddle to the sky as he moved laterally. The ground where he had just been standing erupted with a blast of dirt and debris that flew up into the air. After a moment, I heard another bang echo in the distance.

“Move and you’re dead,” ordered the soldier closest to me as he inched towards the door and looked up at the sky, angling the guns on his battle saddle. Whoever was out there had some serious firepower, enough to take out one of these super soldiers with a single well-placed shot.

The smoke inside the restaurant was pouring out of the broken windows now as the fire had grown. I thought about trying to grab Rose and dragging her out of a back exit, if there was one, but I knew it would take too much time and make too much noise. I also thought about grabbing my axe from the floor, but I knew the soldier would be on me the second he heard me pick it up. What else could I do? I couldn’t just stand here and wait…

My wingblades! The one weapon that the soldier wouldn’t expect. I hoped that I was strong enough and that Iron Jade’s work could hold up against the soldier’s armor. I knew I couldn’t cut through the plates, but it looked like the helmet had some tubes that connected it to the rest of the armor– maybe cutting those would fuck him up enough to even the odds?

I took a breath, then extended my left wing and spun with all my weight, slamming my wing blade into the side of the soldier’s helmet. The aluminum-steel alloy ripped into the tube with a cascade of sparks and I felt tendrils of electricity arc into my wing, causing it to spasm.

At the same time, I heard a loud thud from the roof as several ceiling tiles fell to the ground. The roar of energy weapon fire and large-caliber pistol rounds shook the building and I heard the soldier outside cry out.

Fuck it.

I shoved against my attacker as hard as I could, causing both of us to tumble out the front door of the diner. Without hesitation, he rolled to his feet and turned on me. From somewhere on the roof, another loud pistol shot roared again and the soldier’s front left hoof exploded into bits of cartilage, bone and blood.

“Fuck!” he screamed, stumbling again, then extending his wings. “Fall back! Fall back now!”

Both of the black-clad soldiers turned tail and took to the sky. They were fast flyers, even injured, and they wove through the buildings and alleyways of Silverhoof with military precision, disappearing from view in an instant.

I closed my eyes and tried to catch my breath. One threat was gone, but now I had a new one: whoever, or whatever, on the roof of the diner. I was unarmed aside from my wing blades and my vision was blurry with blood, smoke and tears. I forced myself to stand up and extend my wings.

“Stormy!” called a familiar voice from beyond the smoke. A moment later, an armored griffon with two very large pistols and a battle saddle with a monstrous rifle attached to it emerged from the smoke and landed in front of me. I had never in my life been so happy to see a bartender on the battlefield.

“Sterling!” I exclaimed, folding in my wings and wiping my eyes on my foreleg.

“You’re hurt,” he said, taking a step towards me.

“Rose is worse. Come on.”

I raced inside and started rummaging through both my and Rose’s saddlebags. Rose’s eyes had rolled back into her head and she was shaking violently. I grabbed one of the Med-X syringes and popped the cap off, but stopped, my claws shaking.

“Where the fuck do I stick this?”

Sterling rushed to my side. “Give it to me an’ hold her down. Stabilize her head.”

I did as he said. He felt Rose’s neck with a talon before inserting the needle. He pulled back on the plunger and I could see blood mix with the fluid in the syringe. He injected the mixture and put pressure on her neck as he removed the needle. After a moment Rose stopped shaking, but she was still badly burned and slick with sweat and blood.

Sterling took Rose’s saddlebags and helped me lift her onto my back before grabbing my axe and knife. We raced out of the burning building and stopped for a moment as Sterling quickly cut the dead soldier’s pack off of him and affixed it to himself. He also ripped a velcro patch from the soldier’s shoulder and shoved it in his bag.

“Come on,” he said, and I followed as he led me further into the city. Rose felt like dead weight on my shoulders, barely moving or making a sound. I was terrified she’d die on my back.

“Where are we going?”

“I know a place.”

I didn’t push for any more details. Sterling was one of the most capable creatures I knew. If he had a plan, we’d be safe. I trusted him completely.

We weaved through the streets until we came upon a run-down old yellow brick building covered in graffiti and dead ivy. The windows were long with a gentle arch on top. The first floor windows were barricaded– boarded up and reinforced with piled stones, while the second floor had hardwood boards nailed in place. We stepped into a covered entry that protruded from the side of the building that had a metal door with a chain and padlock on it. Sterling worked the lock with his pick, then ushered me inside.

A musty smell assaulted my nares as I stepped into the dark building. Several small shafts of light shone through cracks in the stones in the windows, but not enough to see where I was going. Sterling flipped a switch and several dim lights that had been wired around the perimeter walls came to life, illuminating the area in an ominous orange light.

Several large industrial vats and tanks covered in rust and cobwebs filled the room. A multitude of pipes and taps came off of them at odd angles and sets of short metal stairs led up to inspection points on the machinery. Bottles and broken glass filled the floor beneath the tanks as if they had been swept out of the way and piled there.

Sterling secured the door with a large steel bar that slid in place, then led the way to the basement. Rows of stone walls stretched out across the room, built in long graceful arches, while metal sheeting and grids of rebar lined the outside walls. Light bulbs hung from metal conduit and several keg barrels were stacked on shelves. There were a bunch of old mattresses and cots strewn about on the floor and Sterling helped me lower Rose onto one.

She was still breathing and her eyes were no longer rolled back into her head, but her lids were heavy and she didn’t move. I spoke to her quietly, “Rose, you’re gonna be okay. Stay with me okay?”

I turned to Sterling. “What do we do?”

He had already rummaged through a cabinet and took out a metal box that he started removing things from. “We’ll need to cut her armor off, treat the burns an’ keep her hydrated an’ drugged up.” He pointed with a claw. “You work on the armor, I’ll prep the IV.”

I barely noticed at the time, but it was weird seeing Sterling in such a serious state. He was no longer the smooth-talking griffon bartender from Ophir; he was a griffon mercenary, giving orders and taking care of his team. And honestly? I was thankful for the merc at that moment.

I slid my talon between Rose’s skin and her stable suit, slicing a clean line back from the nape of her neck to her flanks. I also cut the sleeves on her forelegs, so I wouldn’t have to pull it down over them. I started to peel the armor off of her right side, but there were several spots that the stable suit had melted to her coat and she moaned in agony as it pulled at her skin. My heart ached at the sound and tears once again filled my eyes.

Sterling came over with an IV, a blood bag, gauze and some sort of paste. Seeing the tears in my eyes, he put his claw on my shoulder. “Her moanin’ is a good sign, Stormy. She’s alive. She’s fightin’. This is gonna suck, but we need to get it off of her to treat her.”

He gently peeled the right side of the stable suit off as I strategically cut fur and skin that had melted to the fabric. Rose’s cries grew louder and more agonizing as the last of it was cut free.

“Just one more side, Rose,” I said, placing my claw on her cheek. “You’ll be okay.”

Tears rolled down her face as she looked up at me, fighting to keep her eyes open and focused.

Sterling helped me roll her to where we could peel the other side of the suit off of her. Thankfully, she took the brunt of the fire with her right side and so the left came off much easier. I looked to see if her PipBuck had some sort of release mechanism, but I couldn’t find any way to remove it, so I left it on.

Rolling her back, Sterling inserted the needle for the IV and hung the blood bag on the edge of a nearby table. I cradled her head in my claws and tried my best to comfort her as Sterling worked to spread the paste on her burns and cover them with gauze. She moaned occasionally as the salve was applied, but nowhere near as much as before.

“That’s it,” Sterling said, placing the gauze to the side. “That’s all I can do for now. We’ll give her another dose of Med-X in a bit, but it’s up to her now.” He paused for a moment, then asked with concern, “How are you?”

I looked up at the griff. He was unlike I had ever seen him before: haggard and sweaty with bags under his eyes, and he wore a worried look that made me uneasy.

“I’m… okay,” I stammered.

“Let me look at your face.”

He inspected the slash across my face, then grabbed some water from his pack and a bit of gauze, carefully dabbing at the wound. “How’d you get this?”

I winced as my face stung. “The weird tail thing that the soldier had. Whipped it across my face when I attacked.”

“You’re lucky you didn’t lose an eye. Those scorpion tails can do some nasty work.” He examined the gash on my face. “You might need stitches, but I suck at that. Probably do more harm than good. I got some strips though. Might do the trick.”

He grabbed some adhesive plastic strips from the medkit and carefully stuck them to my face in such a way as to keep the wound closed. I was thankful for his medical training, however limited it may be. It was still far more than I could do, especially for Rose. If it weren’t for him, she’d probably be dead.

“Sterling… Thank you. If it weren’t for you…”

He shook his head and tried to smile, but it looked more like a worried grimace. “Just doing what I can.”

His words were casual but his demeanor wasn’t. He seemed like he was thinking about something important, but couldn’t find the words to express it. Even more unnerving, he seemed… afraid.

He looked at Rose for a moment, then back to me. “Stay with her. Let me know if she gets worse. I’m gonna make sure the safehouse is secure.”

With that, he made his way back up the stairs.

Rose’s eyes had closed and she was breathing steadily. I laid down on the floor beside her and watched the rise and fall of her chest… I thought she was going to die today– right before my eyes. I was useless in the fight against the soldiers and Rose knew it. She was going to sacrifice herself so I could escape…

I brushed her raven mane to the side. It had grown longer from when we had first met and had a habit of falling into her eyes now. It didn’t seem to bother her, but it made her eyes seem all the more intense– not that I could see them at the moment. She looked so peaceful with her eyes closed, breathing naturally. So different from when she was slumped against the wall, her body smoking, her eyes pleading, her mouth twitching… That moment will forever be burned into my memory: the instant that I knew she was going to die; the hopelessness that I felt. I saw it every time I closed my eyes.

I knew that I had to get better, because I was never going to let something like this happen to her again.

* * * * *

It wasn’t long until exhaustion turned into a restless sleep. My dreams were a feverish montage of the best and worst moments from the past couple days. I’d see Rose’s mischievous grin, then horns would protrude from her eye sockets as she morphed into the mutated ram in the valley; I’d see Sterling emerge from the smoke, before mutating into a black armored supersoldier who would vaporize me with energy weapons; and I’d kiss Rose in the diner, the arcs of electricity coursing through my veins, until I’d open my eyes and see her slumped against the wall as a corpse, her eyes murky and vacant, staring lifelessly off into the distance.

I awoke to a dull pain in my foreleg. I forgot that I had burnt it during the struggle with the soldier and had been inadvertently laying on it. I was still beside Rose, who was sleeping soundly, and I had a blanket; Sterling must’ve slipped it over me when I passed out.

“Nightmares?” asked the griffon. He was sitting at a table with a glass of amber liquid and several boxes of ammo and magazines.

“Yeah…” I muttered, moving over to the table to sit with him. “What are you drinking?”

“Bourbon. I also cracked open a cask of ‘Silverhoof’s Finest Amber Ale’.”

“How was that?”

“Pretty much the opposite of ‘fine’. Tasted like sour piss. Can’t say I’d recommend it.”

A ghost of a smile crept across my face. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“I’m glad I found you.” He grabbed one of the two additional glasses he had sitting next to the bottle and poured me some of the bourbon. “Here. I know it’s not what you prefer, but–”

The whiskey burned my throat, but it was also nice and smoky and reminded me a bit of what my father would drink. “It’s fine.”

I noticed that Sterling still looked incredibly tired and was wringing his claws while staring at the bottle. He was also miles from Ophir, and while flying a straight line was always faster than walking, it was still a long journey. He had to have left only a day or so after we did and with the way he was acting…

“Something’s wrong, isn’t it?”

Sterling gave me a long look and nodded. “Veritas learned that his brother had been executed and he came back to Ophir.”

I remembered the battle we had with Veritas in the Ophir Post building. The incredible illusions and misdirection he was capable of, and the magical energy he summoned that blackened our bodies when I tried to fight him claw-to-hoof. He was a dangerous unicorn.

Sterling wrapped his claws around his glass and stared deeply into it.

“He was angrier and more dangerous than ever, and he didn’t come alone– he brought a military detachment with him… He razed the town, he–”

Sterling paused to take a long pull of his bourbon, his talons shaking.

“I watched The Grotto burn down; I saw ponies that we had saved burnin’ in the street; I saw a foal immolated by an energy weapon blast… and all the while Veritas bellowed ‘bout his brother and how the townspeople were murderers.”

I swallowed, thinking about how scared and suspicious the townspeople were when we first came to Ophir and how free and happy they seemed once Ino, Vino, and Veritas were taken care of. The town was finally breaking free from the oppression they had been under for a while, and just a few days later, Veritas returned to crush that hope and kill everyone…

Sterling looked at me with tears in his eyes as he spoke, “The people of Ophir ain’t murderers. They were just tryin’ to make a life in the one place they could find that wasn’t a shithole… and so was I… I tried to save some of ‘em, but I hadn’t seen an attack that vicious since I was out east. We weren’t prepared.”

I placed my claw on his. “You did what you could. There’s only so much one griff can do, especially against a crazy unicorn and an army.”

Sterling shook his head. “It wasn’t enough… but that ain’t even the worst of it. Veritas was also screaming ‘bout somethin’ else… the ‘Child of Invicta’.”

My blood ran cold. Those were the words that Veritas had hissed at me during our battle, right before Sterling put a round through his eye socket.

“He wants me.”

“And that’s why I’m here,” Sterling said, looking at me with fire in his eyes. “I knew where you were headin’, and I knew if I flew day an’ night I might be able to get to you before he could. I grabbed my old merc gear and ran. I couldn’t help the people of Ophir, but I knew I might be able to help you… I didn’t count on the Enclave finding you before me though…” He trailed off as he looked down at the table. “I was almost too late.”

I moved around the table and hugged the griff. He buried his face into my neck as he shook from stifled sobs and I held him tight.

“But you weren’t. I’m here because of you. Rose is alive because of you.”

“But you almost weren’t. When I saw those Enclave soldiers lightin’ up the diner, I thought you were already dead. When the one went inside an’ the other two moved to flank the entry, I saw an opportunity. If there was any chance you were alive, I needed to get you out. I tried to take out both the soldiers outside the diner with my anti-machine rifle, but they were too quick. I circled ‘round an’ landed on the roof of the diner an’ was able to get a drop on the other one thanks to the smoke. That’s when I saw you an’ the third one tumble out of the front entry.”

I thought back to the fight with the soldier. “I was able to slice one of the tubes leading to his helmet and push him out the door. It was a last ditch effort. I just wanted to get him away from Rose.”

A ghost of a smile spread across Sterling’s face. “That’s very intuitive of you… you targeted the weakest part of their armor.”

“Wasn’t enough though. I was useless in that fight. Rose did most of the work.”

I suddenly heard a weak voice from behind. “Did not.”

Rose! I scrambled to her side and Sterling followed. She struggled to open her eyes and lift her head, but I gently placed a claw on her cheek. “Shh, don’t move.”

Rose spoke in a slow, labored voice, “You were… supposed… to run.”

Tears welled up in my eyes, not just from the obvious pain in her voice, but also from the thought of running away and leaving her to die.

“I wasn’t going to leave you.” Suddenly, my inner Rose kicked in. “Especially not after such an explosive kiss.”

Sterling arched an eyebrow, then gave me a sly grin. “Now that is a story I gotta hear.”

The corner of Rose’s mouth curled up and she coughed. “Ow… I thought that was… a dream.”

I shook my head and smiled. “Nope. One hundred percent real.”

“Good.”

Her eyes were barely open as she spoke, but they closed fully as she drifted back off to sleep. Sterling must’ve been able to tell I was worried, because he placed a claw on my shoulder.

“She’ll be okay. The more she can sleep right now, the better. Now, why don’t you tell me ‘bout this ‘explosive kiss’?”

* * * * *

I learned from Sterling that this safehouse was an old brewery– a factory that produced beers and ales back during and before the war. According to Sterling, the quality of ales before the balefire bombs dropped would’ve been easily tenfold what they are now, even compared to what he served me in Ophir. Apparently whiskey and rye kept pretty well though. The irony that Sterling had brought us to a safehouse that was a brewery also wasn’t lost on me. When I brought it up, Sterling just laughed.

“Complete accident,” he said, “but I’m not surprised. Merc safehouses are always stocked with the two A’s: alcohol an’ ammunition. Makes sense they’d use an old brewery.”

“I thought you said you knew this place?”

“I knew a place. When I first came out west, I did some jobs for local merc groups to get by, before I found Ophir. I knew there was a safehouse in the Distillery District, but not exactly where or what it was. I spotted the Wildland Mercenaries symbol in the mess of graffiti on the outside of the building.”

He traced the outline of the symbol for me. It looked like abstract lines at first, but he explained it had the basic form of two hatchets: one facing up and to the left and the other inverted so together they formed a ‘W’ shape.

I learned that a lot of mercenary groups used symbols to mark safehouses, drop points, or weapon and ammo caches. Since no merc can memorize every location in every town, it’s important to have a way for them to find important resources, especially if separated or in a high-stress situation.

Rose continued to sleep and heal with the aid of the Med-X injections, which I learned was way more complicated than I had ever thought: I needed to find the jugular vein in the neck, hold it off two talons-widths below the injection site, insert the needle with the beveled edge facing me, pull back to make sure I see blood slowly fill the syringe (too fast means I hit an artery), then inject. Sterling assured me it got easier the more I did it, but the first time he had me try, I was terrified I was going to hurt Rose.

I knew that the battle at the diner could’ve easily been a slaughter. Rose did most of the work and was very nearly killed. I had to develop my skills, and while first-aid was part of that, I needed to be more versatile in combat as well.

“Hey Sterling?” I asked, a bit sheepishly.

“Yeah?”

“Can you… teach me to shoot?”

A wide grin spread across his face and he puffed out his feathers happily. “O’ course I can! But I thought you hated guns?”

I thought back to the slaver’s wagon: my father stealing the revolver from the slave leader, dropping it when he got shot, me picking it up and trying to aim…

“I do… They’re loud and clumsy, and–”

I paused momentarily, thinking back to the moment before I blacked out.

“And I may have killed my dad with one… I don’t know. He was being held hostage– I tried to aim, took a shot, then someone smashed me over the head and I blacked out. I never saw him again.”

Sterling gave me a sympathetic look and moved to sit next to me. “I’m sorry, Stormy. Not a lot of us have parents in the Wasteland– it must’ve been tough to lose him like that.”

I sighed. “It was… Rose could tell you. I lost it for a bit. But I want to learn to shoot for her. I don’t ever want to be useless in a fight again because all I can do is whack things with a big axe.”

Sterling’s gaze was filled with sympathy and he gave me a slight smile. “I can very much understand wantin' to protect those you love.”

Love!? The comment gave me pause– did I love Rose? I cared for her greatly and she was my best friend, but…

“Alright,” Sterling said, interrupting my thoughts. He stood to my side. “First thing you should know is there’s two types of trigger mechanism– the kind that ponies shoot an’ the kind that griffons shoot. Well, three if you include battle saddles. The guns that Rose uses are meant for ponies– the trigger is pulled by clampin’ your teeth down on the bit, right?”

I nodded.

“Battle saddles work the same way, but the guns are mounted on the saddle. There’s still a bit to clamp down on, ‘less you’re a unicorn. Now these–”

Sterling pulled one of the pistols from his shoulder holster and held it in his claw.

“These are meant for a griffon. Or really, any creature that has talons or claws. They feel better, they’re more versatile, an’ you can wield two of ‘em at once if you’ve got good balance on your hind legs.”

He dropped the magazine and racked the weapon to empty the chamber, then passed it over to me. While it was heavy, it didn’t feel quite as awkward as the slave leader’s revolver did, and I liked that I was able to swing it around and maneuver it without the neck strain.

“The sights work the same way– look through the two pegs on the rear sight an’ line the front sight up at the same height. You’ll hit whatever is right above ‘em, give or take dependin’ on the distance. Once you get used to findin’ that sight picture, you can work on keepin’ both eyes open an’ lookin’ at the target an’ the sights at the same time.”

I noticed that I had closed one eye while trying to line the sights up properly and did my best to try to look at an empty bottle across the room while also looking at the sights. My eyes struggled to focus, but I got it for a split second before I lost it.

“I like how this feels much better,” I said, passing the gun back to Sterling, who grinned.

“I thought you might.” He inserted the magazine and racked the slide before coolly dropping it back into his holster. “You’ve grown up workin’ with your claws. Only makes sense to use a firearm that fits your anatomy an’ skills. Let me see what I can find.”

He searched through a locker and a filing cabinet in the brewery basement that contained a stash of firearms and ammunition, then started looking through the drawers of a desk before something caught his eye.

“Aha!” he exclaimed, pulling a small pistol with a stainless steel barrel and a wooden grip from the desk. He racked the action back and handed it to me. “That oughta work to get you started. It’s chambered in .22 Long Rifle, so you won’t be able to take down anythin’ too big, but there’s tons of ammunition out there for it an’ you won’t blow your eardrums out shootin’ it. I know that’s important to you.”

I smiled. Sterling knew me well. I looked the pistol over and found an engraving on the barrel that read “22 LONG RIFLE - BUCK MARK - MADE IN EQUESTRIA WITH PRIDE”. It was light compared to Sterling’s pistol and I liked how well it fit my grip.

“Thank you, Sterling. For everything.”

“My pleasure. Now, let’s see if we can find you a holster. We can drill the basics while we’re here, but you’ll need to get some live fire practice with radroaches an’ radrats to really get better.”

I nodded. It might not have been the biggest, flashiest, or deadliest weapon, but it was a way for me to gain experience and develop my skills, and I was thankful for it.

* * * * *

It was hard to tell exactly how much time we spent holed up in the safehouse. Sterling continued to teach me about firearms and combat as Rose rested. The healing salves were working wonders on her burns, and she no longer needed Med-X to sleep. Sterling insisted we stop using it as soon as we could to prevent addiction. The scar on my face had crusted over and was starting to heal as well.

From what we could see, there were no signs of additional Enclave patrols or Veritas Azure. Sterling had suggested they’d scan the ground from the skies and we likely wouldn’t see them on-foot. I figured that was also why they seemed to come out of nowhere at the diner and why they didn’t show up on Rose’s E.F.S. until the last second.

It was during a particularly boring stretch of quiet that I heard Rose rustle and then get up. I ran to her side and Sterling followed.

“Hey! Don’t rush it! You don’t need to get up, I can–”

Rose stuck her hoof in my mouth. “Storm Mist?”

“Hrm-mm?”

“I need to piss like a racehorse. So unless you’re really into that kinky golden shower shit, get out of my way and let me pee.”

Sterling laughed as I blushed and hastily moved out of the way. Once Rose had relieved herself, she returned and we all sat down at the table. Rose eyeballed the bourbon and the three glasses. “You saved me a glass?”

“Of course,” Sterling said in his regular suave demeanor, “I would never deny a lady her whiskey.”

Rose levitated the bottle, pouring a glass for herself and I looked to Sterling. “Is that a good idea?”

Sterling shrugged. “She’s off the Med-X now, so she’ll be okay so long as she keeps drinkin’ water as well.”

She gave me the stink eye as she levitated the glass over to herself. “How dare you suggest that alcohol is a bad idea. What kind of monster are you?”

“The kind that cares about you immensely.”

The words just kind of rolled off my tongue before I could even think, and Rose gave me a look of surprise that broke into a smile. “That’s fair, I guess.”

Sterling poured what was left of the whiskey into two glasses, sliding one over to me before Rose spoke again.

“So what’d you find in the ammo can?”

“Haven’t looked yet,” I said with a grin. “I was waiting for you.”

Rose gave me a broad smile while Sterling just looked confused. I pulled the ammo can from my saddle bag and set it on the table before cracking open the latch. I removed the two photos of my parents and explained who they were to Sterling before continuing to dig in the can.

Inside, I found two faded white “Ministry of Awesome” key cards that had printed barcodes and serial numbers on the sides; a paper with the numbers “7-8-6-7-6-9” written on it; a map of Western Equestria with several locations circled, including one that was in Silverhoof; a small burlap bag that had been packed with rice; as well as a note that had apparently been written by one of my parents.

Sterling eyed the items suspiciously. “Not exactly what you’d expect to find in a stash. Usually there’s caps or weapons.”

“What does the note say?” asked Rose, leaning over the table to get a better look.

The letters had faded a bit, but it was still legible. I read it aloud:

Dear Storm Mist,

If you're reading this, we're probably dead. Well, more dead. We did our best to keep you safe and give you a normal life– or at least, as normal as it gets in the Wasteland. We always wanted to do right by you.

If you've learned about your past, we're sorry for our part in it. We didn't know at the time what we were getting into and the balefire bombs dropped before we could even finish the mission. If you still don't know– good. It's better if you keep it that way. Get out of Silverhoof as fast as you can. It's not safe for you here.

We love you more than you can imagine. No matter what, you're our son. Please stay safe out there.

Love,

Evergreen & Carbon

My voice wavered a bit at the end, but I managed to get through the whole thing without crying. I had no idea what my parents could have done before I was put in stasis, but I doubt it could’ve been anything that bad. They were the best parents anyone could’ve asked for.

Rose rested her head on her hoof. “Well that raises more questions than it answers.”

Sterling looked at me. “So, what are you going to do?”

I looked at the assortment of strange items in front of me and thought about what they could all mean. My mind raced with possibilities. Maybe the key cards still worked and the circled locations were old government facilities? Maybe I could find out more about my parents and what they were working on during the war?

But also maybe not. Rose almost died following me as I searched for answers, and here I was finding nothing but more questions. These could just be relics of the past and I might be thinking way too hard. Maybe I should do what the note suggested and get the hell away from Silverhoof… But Ophir was burned to the ground, and Veritas and the Enclave were after me. There really wasn’t anywhere out there that was safe anymore.

I shook my head. “I think… I’m going to make some rice.”

I grabbed the bag of rice and dumped it into a small cooking pot that was kept beside a portable gas stove. Just as I was going to add water, a glint of something metallic caught my eye. Within the rice, I found a small glass vial with a spiral metal casing, filled with a cloudy, dark green liquid.

“What’d you find?” asked Rose, who was watching me intently.

“I have no idea…”

I searched the rice for any more hidden items, but found nothing. I added water and covered the pot, letting it heat up on the stove. I brought the little vial over to the table and the three of us stared at it for a moment.

“Super soldier serum,” said Rose, nodding sagely.

Sterling shrugged. “Could be, actually. With a place called ‘The Ministry of Awesome’, anythin’ is possible, right?”

“The Ministry of Awesome wasn’t a single place,” Rose said, putting on her proverbial teacher’s hat. “It was one of six government institutions that were established by Princess Luna during the war. They were created after Princess Celestia abdicated the throne. They were run by a group of mares called the Elements of Harmony, who each headed up their own ministry.”

She pointed at the ammo can. “M.W.T. means Ministry of Wartime Technology– it was headed up by an earth pony named Applejack. The Ministry of Awesome was led by a pegasus named Rainbow Dash.”

Sterling gave Rose a funny look. “Dash… Like a Dashite?”

“Maybe? I’ve never heard that term before.”

“I worked with a pegasus once back east who was a Dashite. He was former Enclave, kicked out an’ banished to the Wasteland for his beliefs. They branded over his cutiemark with a storm cloud an’ a lightnin’ bolt an’ called him a Dashite. He wore the title proudly, though.”

Rose’s eyes lit up. “That’s her cutiemark! They’ve gotta be related somehow… Information about post-war events is basically non-existent, so I don’t really know what happened to her. That’s really cool though!”

Rose caught me staring and shrunk back slightly. “Sorry, nerd stuff.”

I shook my head and smiled. “It makes me happy to see you excited about something. Plus every time you talk about the past, I learn something new.”

She returned my smile and sat up proudly. “So it’s decided then?”

I gave her a questioning look.

“We keep going. We dig into your past, find out what happened to Rainbow Dash, figure out what that weird serum is, discover the crazy underground bunker of super soldier cyberponies, become their ruler, then destroy Veritas, the Enclave, and every raider in the Wasteland, returning peace and balance to Equestria.”

Sterling raised his glass. “I’ll drink to that. Sounds like fun!”

I stared at the unicorn and griffon before me and realized that I had somehow managed to befriend the weirdest creatures in the Wasteland, but despite their apparent insanity, I wouldn’t trade them for anything.

I raised my glass as well.

Footnote: Level Up!

New Perk: Basic Marksman
You can now handle a weapon without shooting yourself or your companions. Better late than never, right? Your skill with pistols and rifles has increased.

Author's Note

Sterling Silver has joined the party.

I'm very excited to have gotten to this point in the story, because things are about to get weird! Plus, we got the trio back together and they get to figure out how to work together effectively.

Thanks again to Rebel Beats and Artimae for their support!

Chapter 11: Okay… But What’s Ice Cream?

Chapter 11: Okay… But What’s Ice Cream?

“You want weapons? We’re in a library! Books are the best weapon in the world. This room is the greatest arsenal we could have. Arm yourself!”

- The Doctor

We had managed to scrounge up some armor from the safehouse that I was able to customize and fit to Rose, since her stable suit was all but destroyed. Despite that, I knew how much it meant to her, so I cut out the sections of the collar that had the embossed stable number on it. She smiled and got all misty-eyed when I presented it to her, and she took it and carefully pinned it to her saddle bags with some old safety pins.

Sterling had emptied the soldier’s pack and was digging through the contents. There were some chems, including standard painkillers, Med-X and Mint-als, some new-looking individually packaged granola bars, and most impressive of all: a beautiful, fresh red apple.

The three of us stood around the table, transfixed by the incredible sheen and luster of the fruit. Compared to the drab gray-ness of everything else in the Wasteland, the apple seemed to shine like a defiant light burning against the surrounding darkness.

“It’s beautiful,” Rose said breathlessly.

“Remarkable…” Sterling added.

I had heard of apples before. Sometimes Carbon would reminisce about pre-war food and how things tasted both before the war and before he was a ghoul. According to him, everything tastes like sand once you’re ghoulified. He made pre-war food sound like a spiritual experience, with all the incredible textures, smells, and tastes. This would be the first time I had the opportunity to try anything remotely close, but I also knew the value of it in today’s world.

“Do we eat it or save it to trade?” I asked.

“Probably won’t last long enough for us to trade,” Sterling remarked. “If you haven’t noticed, Silverhoof isn’t terribly populated.”

It was a good point. I hadn’t noticed anyone else in the city in the short time we were out, and I hadn’t heard any gunfire or anything since being in the safehouse. Wasn’t that odd, though? Silverhoof was a big place and was supposedly filled with all sorts of creatures before the bombs dropped– why was it so vacant now?

“So we’re definitely eating it, right?” Rose asked excitedly, placing both her front hooves on the table. She was nearly vibrating, ready to pounce like a cat.

“Interestin’ that it’s so fresh, an’ that more food wasn’t packed… the Enclave base these soldiers were from must be very close.”

“Yes, very interesting and spooky, but can we all just agree to eat the apple so I can eat the damn apple?”

I smiled. Rose’s impatience and excitement was sometimes very cute. “Cut it into thirds, I think we could all use a–”

Before I could even finish, Rose had levitated my knife out of its holster at light speed and expertly carved the apple into three perfectly even slices. The knife clattered to the table as she shoved a slice into her mouth with prejudice, moaning as she chewed.

“Unnnh,” she moaned in delight. “It’s so– Mmh! It tastes so– Unnnnh!” Her words devolved into gibberish as she chewed.

Sterling looked at Rose, then looked at me. “She can be real scary when she wants to be, huh?”

“That’s Rose!” I said, grabbing a slice of the apple for myself.

It tasted sweet– almost like the Sugar Apple Bombs cereal, but not in an unpleasant way. It was fresh and juicy and unlike anything I had ever had in the Wasteland. It made me long to remember what the world might have been like in the distant past… and then it made me wonder where the hell it came from.

“Where do you think the Enclave got fruit this fresh?”

Sterling popped the slice of apple into his mouth and chewed before responding. “They’ve got farms above the clouds that produce food for their people. Fresh vegetables, fruit… These granola bars were probably made somewhere up there too.”

Rose scowled. “Well now I just hate them even more. Hiding up there with fresh food while the rest of us are down here starving to death?”

I couldn’t help but agree.

“Actually, I heard rumors back east that there was a group within the Enclave that would come down to the surface an’ trade food an’ medicine. Never seen it myself, but it could very well be that not everyone who lives up there is bad.”

A vengeful part of myself twisted from within and I felt my face get hot. “It was the Enclave that killed my mother. It was the Enclave that almost killed Rose. Fuck them. They’ll get what’s coming to them.”

Rose gave me a nod and Sterling turned back to the items on the table.

“There’s also this–”

He slid a velcro patch on the table to face Rose and I. It was shaped like a curved arch with some embossed dark gray numbers that barely stood out from the black material: 731.

“After we drove the soldiers off, I grabbed the unit patch from the dead one. I don’t know a ton about Enclave units, but I’ve never heard of 731.”

“Could it be associated with a stable?” Rose asked.

Sterling shrugged. “I don’t think so, they tend to stay above the clouds. But y’never know. How many of those things were built?”

Rose smirked in response.

“That was a hot-button issue back in 131. Stable-Tec documentation was notoriously unreliable– some reports showed only 100 or so, others were closer to 250. Some researchers believed there were only ever a few dozen stables completed, while some conspiracy theorists thought we had been lied to and we were the only one. One idiot even thought there was a stable on the moon.”

I gave Rose an incredulous look. “How would you even..?” I shook my head. “Actually, nevermind.”

The map from the ammo can was still sitting on the table, and I eyed the circled areas– Silverhoof, Shadowbolt Pass, Ironclad Mesa– until one caught my eye. Deep in the heart of the San Palomino desert was a circle, just north of Las Pegasus.

“‘Ministry of Awesome Area Fifteen’ it was called, officially, but we just called it Plume Lake.”

These were government installations! They had to be!

I moved to the wall where a makeshift map of Silverhoof was pinned. It was rudimentary and only highlighted a few of the more prominent buildings– apparently mercenaries didn’t make stellar cartographers. I looked for anything that might be a government building or military installation.

“Sterling, do you know if Silverhoof has some sort of secret government building? My father once said something about a Ministry Mare locating a project here that brought more soldiers to the area.”

Sterling shook his head. “I mean, there’s the giant tower to the north, but those things are swarmin’ with Enclave. I’m not sure if there’s anythin’ in Silverhoof proper.”

“What about a library?” Rose asked, moving to my side and examining the map. “There may be building plans or some record of events during the war.” She squinted at the map for a moment before pointing. “There! On the northwest side.”

“Good idea,” I replied. Rose bumped my flank with hers eliciting a smile from me.

“We should move at night an’ keep low an’ slow. We’ll wanna stay as inconspicuous as possible, in case they’re still patrollin’ the skies above.”

I looked at Rose. “Are you sure you’re good to get back out there?”

Rose nodded and gave me that determined look she was so good at. “Good to go, cap’n!” She stopped and looked sidelong at Sterling. “Or are you the captain? How do merc ranks work?”

Sterling shook his head with a smile. “We don’t really have ranks. We just follow our contract.”

“Then how do you know who’s in charge?”

Sterling looked amused as he grabbed the anti-machine rifle by the barrel. “You look for the guy with the biggest gun.”

Rose snorted. “Typical.”

“And then you look for who’s giving him the orders. So Stormy–” Sterling dropped the weapon and gave me a sideways grin. “What are your orders?”

Something about the way Sterling asked that sent chills down my spine– in the good way. I felt a warmth inside, knowing that my friends cared and trusted me enough to make a decision. I also felt incredibly seen and a little put on the spot, but I cleared my throat to respond.

“We move tonight.”

* * * * *

It was just after twilight that we left the safehouse and made our way towards the library. We had plotted a path that Sterling thought would give us the most cover as we moved, limiting the amount of times we had to cross an intersection or move through an open area. We stayed close to the buildings and crept under awnings and through fallen debris.

As we crossed an intersection, I had a clear view north towards the tower. It plunged up into the clouds like a dark abyss, ripping into the last tendrils of twilight that painted the clouds beyond the mountain in purple and violet. I could see small black dots buzzing around the tower like mosquitoes, and I guessed that they were Enclave soldiers either on patrol or doing some kind of work on the tower itself.

“Keep moving,” Sterling whispered. “If you can see ‘em, they can see you.”

That was all I needed for my curiosity to be instantly replaced with vigilance. I made sure to stay low and keep my guard up as we continued to weave our way through the streets of Silverhoof.

Eventually, we found what we were looking for. The library was a large brick building with a multitude of windows across the front, all multi-segmented and most of them broken, leaving only decorative wrought iron window guards in their place. Several columns were built into the structure and rose up into pointed towers, some of them broken, but most intact. The main entry had collapsed into a pile of rubble, but as we circled around the building, we found a broken section of wall that was just big enough for us to squeeze into.

Sterling cracked a chemlight that was attached to a chain around his neck, illuminating the area with a dim green glow. We were in a dark study area where several desks with little lamps were arranged in rows, some of them had old books strewn amongst the desk tops. On the far side of the room there was an entrance to a hallway that had the slightest hint of warm light illuminating it from a distance.

The hallway connected a series of study rooms and led to a grand arched opening that opened into a massive chamber that was filled with book cases. Books were strewn on the shelves haphazardly, and it seemed like many were missing.

As we stepped into the main room, Rose suddenly stopped and waved her hoof. “Hold up.”

I could hear quiet whispers, but I couldn’t quite place where they were coming from.

“I didn’t hear–”

“Shut up!”

The voices quieted. Was the Enclave searching the library? How could they have known we were here? We had to move.

Suddenly there was a cacophony of war cries from all around us as the enemy moved in. We were flanked, outmaneuvered and completely surrounded… by foals.

There were foals of all shapes, sizes, and ages: unicorn foals wielding pipe rifles and spiked bats with their magic, a pegasus colt with a crossbow, earth ponies with guns and knives, and even a tiny griffon foal with what looked to be a sharpened broom pole in its mouth.

I raised my claws up in the air. “We surrender!”

The glacier-blue pegasus scrunched his face up as he looked us over. “You don’t look like Enclave.”

“We’re not,” I said, addressing the pegasus. “We’re trying to avoid them. My name’s Storm Mist, this is Crimson Rose, and this is Sterling Silver.”

The little griffon foal looked Sterling up and down. “Awr you a gwiffon, like me?”

Sterling couldn’t help but smile at the tiny foal as he knelt down. “Indeed I am. I’m Sterling, what’s your name?”

The little griffon foal looked away from Sterling and mumbled, “Ass.”

Rose and I exchanged a glance as Sterling coughed. “I’m sorry, what?”

The foal spit out the broom pole. “My name’s Ash!”

“Oh, Ash!” Sterling looked visibly relieved. “What a beautiful name.”

“Where are all your parents?” Rose asked, stepping forward.

“They’re–”

The young filly that spoke was quickly cut off by another voice that was approaching.

“You don’t need to tell them that.”

From behind the group, a young mare approached. She was definitely the oldest, a slender earth pony with a warm, off-white coat and a medium-length lavender mane that fell messily in front of her striking purple eyes. Despite being so young, her eyes looked old– heavy lidded with dark circles underneath. She walked with a quiet grace and dignity, but her words were heavy and straight to the point.

“Who are you?”

“I’m Storm Mist, this is–”

“Crimson Rose and Sterling Silver. That doesn’t mean anything. Who are you with?”

I looked at my companions in confusion, then back at the mare. “We’re not with anyone– I was born here and–”

“If you were born here, I’d know you. You, griffon.” She pointed at Sterling. “Are you Red Scorpion or Wildland?”

Sterling stood up and brushed himself off. “Neither, miss. I’m an independent. I used to work with the Wildland Mercenaries, however.”

She scrutinized him for a long moment. “You know, Ash came to us from a cowardly merc who decided to abandon her here…” She let the silence hang in the air for a long moment. “But that motherfucker was a Red Scorpion. We still got good relations with the Wildland boys.”

The mare’s eyes drifted to Rose’s saddlebags. “Did you kill a stable dweller and take those as a reward?”

Rose’s face immediately contorted in anger. “Fuck you.”

The mare was unmoved at Rose’s outburst and responded calmly. “Fuck you too, answer the question.”

“They’re my patches. I came from 131. Only reason they’re on my bags is because some Enclave dipshit nearly incinerated me. And the only reason I’m still here is because Storm Mist and Sterling saved my life.”

The mare’s eyes widened ever-so-slightly. “You killed an Enclave soldier?”

“One of ‘em,” Sterling said with a shrug. “Wounded the other enough to drive ‘em away.”

The mare gave a long look at both Rose and Sterling. “Alright, I believe both of you.” She turned back to me. “You, however, are a liar.”

I shook my head. “My parents were ghouls. They found me in a stasis pod in some sort of secret government facility in Silverhoof and raised me as their own. They’re both gone now, but I’m here because I want to find answers.”

The mare gave me a strange look for a moment, then nodded. “I believe you. Weapons down.”

At her command, the foals all lowered their weapons and the pegasus colt landed. Everyone visibly relaxed.

“The name’s Amethyst. We don’t get a lot of visitors here. We try to stay unseen.”

“What happened here?” Rose asked, trying to move past the flash of anger she felt during the interrogation. “You’re the first ponies we’ve seen. Where did all the parents go?”

Amethyst gave Rose another long look, as if considering something.

“Come with me. I’ll show you.”

The kids all scattered and made their way down to a small fire that burned in the center of the main atrium, while Amethyst led us up a set of stairs and towards what looked to be an administrative office. On one of the walls was a large poster featuring a lavender unicorn with a blue and purple mane. She had a kind smile and was holding a book. Behind her, the poster had a starburst of magic and big words that read: “Reading is magic! Start your journey of discovery with the Ministry of Arcane Science.”

Amethyst trotted behind an old oak desk, opened a drawer and pulled out a small crystal orb. She sat it on top of the desk and stared at it tentatively before looking at Rose.

“You wanted to know what happened… This will give you an idea.”

Rose stared at the object on the desk. “Is it a crystal ball?”

“It’s a memory orb. It’s used to record and play back a memory. When you activate it, you’ll see, hear, and feel everything as if you were there. They’re pretty rare, but there’s still recollectors that allow creatures to record and play back memories. Unicorns can activate them simply by focusing their magic on it, touching it to their horn, whatever works.”

“Neat!” Rose said, levitating the orb.

“Hold on,” I said, raising a claw. “Is it safe?”

“She’ll be unresponsive to us while she watches it, but it’s safe. The memory itself is a bit heavy, though. You sure you want to see it?”

Rose nodded. “I’ve been through a lot. I can handle it.”

I exchanged a nervous glance with Sterling as Rose levitated the orb up to her horn and closed her eyes. For a couple minutes everything seemed fine, but then she started to twitch and groan as if she was dreaming about fighting someone. Soon, she started to moan in pain and tears flowed down her face.

I turned on Amethyst. “What’s happening? What’s it doing to her?”

Amethyst just gave me a sad look. “It’s just the memory. This is normal.”

“She’s in pain!” I yelled. “Stop this!”

“I can’t.”

Sterling kept his gaze on Amethyst, his claws twitching. I moved to Rose’s side.

“Rose, I’m here. Snap out of it.”

Suddenly Rose’s eyes opened and she jolted as if she had just awoken from a nightmare. The memory orb fell to the floor as her magic released. She was shaking and panting, and her eyes were wide, filled with tears. She looked at Amethyst.

“I’m so sorry… I’m so, so sorry.”

Amethyst did her best to appear unaffected, but a single tear ran down her cheek.

“Now you know.”

It took a minute or two for Rose to breathe and compose herself. I held her and stroked her mane until she gently pushed me away and asked Sterling and I to step outside the office so she could talk with Amethyst alone. I wasn’t thrilled about the idea, especially since the memory orb seemed to have such an adverse effect, but Rose insisted. Sterling and I exchanged a glance, then both hesitantly exited the room. I assured Rose (and warned the young mare) that we’d be right outside if anything were to happen.

The door to the office closed and I could see through the inset window that Rose scooted closer to Amethyst’s desk as the two began to talk.

I turned my gaze from the window to Sterling. “Do you trust her?”

He shook his head. “Not at all. But she seems to be very intent on keepin’ these kids safe an’ showin’ ‘em how to survive. I respect that.” He looked me up and down for a moment. “You doin’ okay? With Rose an’ everythin’?”

Rose and I had been through close calls before. I thought I had seen the worst of it when Rose was kidnapped by Vino, but nothing compared to the visceral reaction of being convinced Rose was going to die in front of my eyes… But then there was Sterling. He also had just gone through a horrific event– how was he coping? Especially after we worked so hard to help the people of Ophir?

“It was tough, but she’s alright. She’s here. I can’t imagine what it’s like for you, though, with everything that happened in Ophir.”

Sterling’s face darkened as he looked at the floor, and I immediately regretted bringing it up.

“I’ve lost people before, an’ I’ve seen all the injustices the Wasteland has. It never gets easier. It never goes away.”

He raised his head and looked at me, his amber eyes shining in the dim light of the library.

“But that’s why I’m here, with you. You have a good heart, Stormy. And that’s somethin’ that’s worth protectin’... Plus you’re cute, even if you’re taken now.”

Despite the amount of compliments that I’ve received from Sterling in the time I’ve known him, I still couldn’t prevent myself from blushing. Stupid smooth-talking griffons… I couldn’t help but wonder if they were all as eloquent as my combat bartender.

He gave me a warm smile. “I’m glad Rose told you.”

I returned the smile. “Me too.”

I looked back through the window into the office and saw something I would have never expected: Rose was hugging Amethyst. The young mare was still very rigid and didn’t return the hug, but Rose had her forelegs wrapped around her and was leaning her cheek on the mare’s head.

Rose had never given me mom vibes before, but in that moment I was reminded of how Evergreen would hold me when I was upset or scared as a little colt. I had grown so familiar with superhero unicorn Rose that I never expected to see caregiver Rose, and the sight made my heart feel warm, despite what that young mare did with the memory orb.

Rose looked up and caught my gaze, giving me a small smile before letting go. They exchanged a few words before Rose turned and opened the door for Sterling and I. We entered and again sat around Amethyst’s desk.

“Okay, sorry about that,” Rose said, addressing both Sterling and I. “I’m sure you both want to know about the memory orb…

“So, as a technology, it’s incredible. As soon as I focused on it and touched it to my horn, it was like I was transported into another body. I was someone else and I was in another time and place. I experienced things from behind the eyes of one of the kids– seeing, hearing, and feeling everything they did, like I was in a vivid dream or memory.

“I was hiding in an attic with other kids, looking out at the scene through a slotted vent hole. I saw a gang of creatures walking through the street– earth ponies, unicorns, griffons– all with a green bandana tied around their neck or up high on a foreleg. They looked like raiders, but they weren’t as erratic. They moved as a unit– every bit as violent and merciless as regular raiders, but organized and methodical– almost military. They were kicking down doors and pulling ponies out onto the street, killing and raping.

“They brutally killed all the adults like raiders would normally do, but any kids they’d find were caught and rounded up…”

As Rose spoke, Amethyst shifted uncomfortably in her seat, idly spinning the blades of a broken fan that sat on the desk.

“There was an Enclave soldier– bigger than the ones we saw, and with more advanced armor. His voice was raspy and low, and sounded almost robotic in nature. I couldn’t understand what he was saying from where we were hiding, but I saw him point a weapon at the captured kids… He shot them with some kind of energy weapon that vaporized them with a red flash.”

My thoughts immediately went to my mom. What Rose was describing sounded exactly like the weapon that was used to execute her.

“You managed to survive alone since then?” Sterling asked.

Amethyst nodded. “We had to learn to survive on our own. Most of us grew up here, so we know the area well. We move by night, we stay quiet, and we stay smart. We’ve survived for nearly two years now.”

“Two years…” I repeated, surprised at how long they lasted in such a hostile environment.

“The oldest teach the youngest how to survive, and we take care of each other.” Her ears twitched momentarily. “Speaking of… Nimbus!”

The pegasus colt landed in front of the doorway to the office with a look of shame. “Yeah, Amethyst?”

“What did I tell you about eavesdropping?”

He rubbed his shoulder abashedly, and looked to the side as he spoke. “Do it from the ground so the enemy can’t hear my wing beats.”

“Mhm.”

Sterling looked impressed. “You were still damn quiet, though,” he said in a hushed tone. “Learn to read lips an’ you’ll be unstoppable with intelligence gatherin’.”

Nimbus’s emerald eyes lit up as he gave Sterling a grin. “Bet.”

“Go on,” Amethyst said with just a hint of pride in her tone. “I need to help our visitors here find what they’re looking for.”

With a quick nod, the pegasus flew out of the room and back to the other kids.

“Nimbus is our oldest. He’ll be in charge when I’m gone.” She gave Sterling a nod. “Thank you for being kind to him.”

Sterling gave a slight bow. “Of course.”

Amethyst once again looked at the three of us with an assessing gaze. “You all aren’t like regular Wasteland adults.”

“How so?” I asked.

“Regular Wasteland adults are cunts. You all seem like you actually care about each other, and not only that, you show compassion towards ponies you’ve never met. It’s… weird.”

“It’s the right thing to do.” I said, and Rose and Sterling both nodded in agreement.

Amethyst gave me another long look before standing up. “I need to take care of some things. You’re free to look around the library, but if you touch a hair on any of my kids–”

“You’ll make us wish that it was the Enclave that killed us.” Rose interjected, and Amethyst nodded. “I understand.”

* * * * *

‘Sprawling’ was perhaps the right term to describe the interior of the library. The main floor was built in several levels with the lowest at the center, making it seem to one who stood in the middle of the atrium that they were surrounded by mountains of bookshelves. It would’ve been quite a sight back in the day when all the shelves were full, and even now it was impressive. A grand balcony wrapped around the perimeter of the room, with more shelves built into the walls. There were wooden ladders that slid on rails, allowing creatures of any size to climb up to the highest shelf and retrieve the books they desired.

We learned that the kids used a bunch of books as fuel for their small fire over the years– a fact that hurt my heart a bit. A good book was always a rare find for me growing up, so to be surrounded by them was a bit awe-inspiring. There were so many stories here, both real and fictional, and so much knowledge to be gained. I understood survival, but there had to be other things to burn, right?

Rose and I decided to systematically work our way through the library, looking for any kind of city planning maps or plans, journals from notable figures, or just books that seemed interesting or useful. The shelves on the lower levels seemed to mostly have fictional titles in various genres– adventure, mystery, horror, romance…

Rose plucked a book from a shelf and flipped through the pages before stopping to read to me in a low, husky tone.

“She turned to see the colt she had eyed from a distance earlier. He stood tall, his dark features accented by his sleek suit and tie. He ran a hoof through his perfectly styled mane as he flashed her a dazzling smile.

“‘Hey there,’ he said, his voice low and smooth–”

Rose lowered her voice to imitate the hulking chunk of man-meat.

“–’I couldn’t help but notice you were new to the neighborhood. The name’s Brad. Brad Apples.’”

She fell against me, pretending to faint as she threw a hoof over her eyes.

“Oh, Brad Apples! You’re so tall and dark and handsome. Whisk me away from my mundane life! Make me feel like a mare.”

I let her drop to the floor.

“Ow.”

Despite my best attempts to look serious, I couldn’t wipe the stupid grin off my face.

“If you ever call me ‘Brad Apples’ again–”

“You’ll punish me?” Rose asked in a tiny voice, putting her front hooves together in front of her mouth and batting her eyes at me.

The heat rushed to my face as I blushed and looked away. “No, I’ll–” I saw her pout out of the corner of my eye and I felt my heart beat faster as tingles spread throughout my body. “You… I–”

“Are you two gonna make babies?” asked a little pink unicorn filly who was spying on us through an empty section of shelf.

Rose’s face immediately went beat red, matching mine, as she shimmied her way out from between my forelegs and stood up. “Nope, definitely not! Not here– no babies, nope. Hi, hello! I need to go uhh… look at more books. Yep! Excuse me!” She ran off and disappeared behind more shelves in the distance.

“What’s her problem?”

“I’ve been asking myself the same thing for a while now,” I replied absently before turning to the filly. “What’s your name?”

“Sundae!”

“Oh, like the day of the week?”

The filly shook her head. “No, silly, like the dessert!”

I looked at her in confusion.

She opened a book and took out a crayon, drawing something on a page that read “This page left intentionally blank.”

“Imagine a bowl piled high with ice cream, then drizzle chocolate sauce all over it with sprinkles and a cherry on top. That’s a sundae!”

“Oooh,” I replied, looking at the scribble on the page. “Okay… but what’s ice cream?”

The filly facehoofed. “You’re hopeless.” She trotted off with an indignant air, leaving me to my imagination. What exactly was ice cream and what it could possibly taste like? I figured it was cold, and since it was covered in chocolate, probably sweet. I guessed that it would be something that Rose would like, and I made a note to ask her about it later. Maybe she’s had it before?

While I was contemplating the properties of a dessert I never had, I discovered Sterling playing with the other two unicorn foals. He was darting around the library, looking through shelves and corridors.

“Found you!” he called, landing beside a bookshelf that the foal had crawled into. He had a white coat with a walnut-brown mane and mulberry eyes.

“Man!” said the young colt as he crawled out from underneath the shelves. “You’re good.”

“It’s tough to hide from a griffon,” Sterling remarked with a smile. “But you did well. Cover is very important, ‘specially when you’re trying to hide from someone with wings.”

Sterling looked over at me as he saw me approach. “Speaking of– did you find what you were lookin’ for?”

I shook my head. “Not yet. Rose and I got a bit distracted and then I met Sundae.”

A young filly who looked nearly identical to the young colt ran up to Sterling, panting heavily. “Man, you’re fast.”

Sterling grinned, then stepped back. “Excuse my manners! Stormy, this is Orion and Rhode– they’re identical twins. You two, this is Stormy– the finest hippogriff in all the Wasteland.”

“Hi,” they both said plainly in unison.

Rhode, the young filly, tugged on Sterling’s saddlebag. “Let’s go again! This time you can hide!”

Sterling chuckled. “I can try, but you two are pretty good!” He gave me a sympathetic look. “It seems my services are in demand. Can we catch up later?”

I nodded. “Of course.”

“Alright,” he said, turning back to the foals. “Close your eyes and start countin’!”

They both did as he said, and he took off into the air, doing his best to find an adult-sized hiding spot. It seemed like he was happy to interact with the kids, and after the last few days I could tell that this was good for him.

I continued my search of the library and found a section that had books on architecture and building, but none of them had any information on Silverhoof in particular– they were all just informational books on the topic. They were strewn in amongst books on gardening, interior design, woodworking, and something called origami, which seemed to involve folding paper into shapes. I couldn’t help but wonder how bored pre-war ponies were.

I did however find a book in that section titled “A Field Guide to the Plants of Western Equestria”. I flipped through it and found plenty of pictures and information on the different plants, herbs, and wildflowers that grew (or used to grow) in this area. It seemed like many of them were extinct at this point, but I recognized a few and decided it might be a worthwhile book to keep. Seeing as how Amethyst’s foals used books to color in and burn, I didn’t think they’d miss it, so I slipped the little book into my saddle bag.

Back in the center of the library, I found two earth pony foals sitting around the fire with Rose. She was recounting the story of how she and I first met, but in a playful and dramatic way. She flailed her hooves around as she narrated the daring tale.

“And then, we burst from the wagon, hooves up for a fight! Stormy and I took on four of the slavers all at once, beating them up like the chumps they were! We used their weapons against them, fighting back-to-back, sending those slavers flying. They were barely even a challenge!”

Rose was being very kind to me in this telling of the tale. She had defeated three of the slavers herself while I clumsily tried to deal with only one of them. But– wait… did she just call me ‘Stormy’?

“I threw the slave collar into the wagon as Stormy and I turned and walked away, slipping on two awesome pairs of sunglasses as we did. Behind us, the wagon exploded in a great fireball, sending smoke and shrapnel into the air! But we didn’t even bother to look back. We just kept on walking.”

She did! It had surprised me when Sterling used the nickname, but hearing it from Rose was completely foreign– and yet, I still felt that warm feeling when she did. It didn’t remind me of my parents, nor was it like how Sterling said it… It was different, but it made me feel… loved.

I walked up to the fire with a grin. “And then we fled stealthily into the night?”

Rose looked surprised for a second, then smiled back. “Something like that.”

She introduced me to the two earth ponies, an older foal named Blossom, who had a soft blue coat with a lavender mane, and a younger one named Clover, who had a light green coat with a dark green mane. They both seemed enraptured with Rose’s tale of derring-do, and I didn’t have the heart to correct it with the facts. Instead, I simply listened with the both of them as Rose weaved tales of a strong, handsome hippogriff and a smart, cunning mare who fought back-to-back against the horrors of the Wasteland with all the skill, strength and poise of a comic book superhero.

* * * * *

It was a little while later when Amethyst came to find us. Rose and I had searched most of the library and talked with the kids, and Sterling had eventually grown tired of playing hide and seek with the twins. She approached us as we were sitting around the fire with Nimbus, Orion, Rhode and Blossom.

“Come with me,” she said plainly.

I exchanged a glance with Rose and Sterling before we all got up.

“Nimbus, you’re in charge.”

“Aye-aye, cap’n!” he replied with a salute and a grin. The other foals snickered.

Amethyst turned and began to walk as we followed. She glanced back briefly. “Stay in the library and keep tabs on Ash. If anything happens, I’ll be downstairs.”

Nimbus nodded as the twins teased him.

We followed Amethyst to the back of the library where there was a door with a sign that read, “Staff Only”. She produced a small flashlight as we entered the dark hallway beyond the door, leaving behind the grandiose library atrium and entering an echoey hallway flanked by cinder block walls that were covered in faded beige paint. As we entered a concrete stairwell with metal railings, Rose and I exchanged a glance. We both seemed to be uneasy, and even Sterling looked more vigilant.

“Where are we going?” I asked, my voice reverberating along with our hoofsteps.

“After you left my office, I watched you all. I wanted to see how you’d interact with my kids. You all seemed like good people, but I needed to be sure. You humored them when they bugged you, you played with them, you told them stories… It’s not often that creatures come along that don’t want to rob, kill, rape or abduct you. Even less rare when they seem genuinely good.”

Amethyst paused for a moment at the bottom of the stairs to brush her mane out of her eyes.

“To be honest, I had forgotten that creatures like that even exist…”

She opened another door and led us down a hallway that had working industrial lights hanging from the ceiling amongst a multitude of pipes and wires.

“The library sits on top of a network of tunnels that run throughout Silverhoof, connecting several of the bigger buildings. Some of them are locked behind doors that we can’t pick, some of them have collapsed, and some of them are full of ghouls and other monsters– we’ve done our best to fortify those ones.”

“So that’s how you’ve managed to move ‘round the town undetected for so long,” Sterling observed and Amethyst nodded in response. “Smart.”

“Why show us these tunnels, though?” Rose asked, eyeing Amethyst suspiciously.

“Because of something Storm Mist said.” She stopped short of a corner and turned to look at us. “You said your parents found you in a secret government facility and that’s why you were here?”

I nodded.

She stepped back and gestured towards the corner with an expectant look.

I looked around the corner and saw that the hallway came to an end with a large mechanical double door set into the far wall surrounded by signs that read “Ministry of Awesome” and “Authorized Personnel Only”. Just ahead of the doors on the adjacent wall, there was a pedestal that had an electric card reader.

“Whoa…”

“No way!” Rose said, stepping around the corner behind me along with Sterling. She looked at me excitedly. “You need to try the keycard!”

Sterling readied his weapons. “Be careful. We have no idea what might be behind those doors. There might be ferals, irradiated creatures… could even be an Enclave detachment.”

That last one gave me pause. The last thing we needed was to barge into a bees nest of Enclave soldiers. Still, if this entrance was being used for anything, Amethyst more than likely would’ve run into soldiers down in these tunnels.

“Have you ever seen any soldiers down here?” I asked.

Amethyst shook her head. “Nope. Plenty of radroaches and radrats, feral ghouls in certain tunnels, but this one has been quiet.”

“Good enough for me!” Rose said, levitating her rifle. “Let’s do it– I gotta see what’s behind the giant awesome door!”

I glanced at Sterling, and he nodded, pistols ready. Rose was nearly vibrating at the prospect of breaking into an old government facility, and Amethyst was calm, but seemed interested.

I, however, felt more like Rose. My heart was beating fast as I removed Evergreen and Carbon’s keycards from my saddle bag, their written words echoing in my head:

“If you still don't know– good. It's better if you keep it that way. Get out of Silverhoof as fast as you can. It's not safe for you here.”

They wanted to protect me. They always did… But I needed to know.

I readied my firearm and swiped the key card through the card reader.

Footnote: …

Author's Note

Some new characters and new spooky government places to explore! What do you think they're gonna find behind that door?

Thank you so much to Rebel Beats for helping with this chapter's accuracy and proofreading!

Chapter 1: From The Forge

Chapter 1: From the Forge

“I am a product of the flames which burnt me, the anvil which forged me, and the will that made me grow formidable instead of breaking.”
- Jeff Mach

It wasn’t easy growing up in the Wasteland with ghoul parents.

I mean, it’s not easy surviving in the Wasteland at all, but somehow my parents did it while caring for a child. I’ll never understand why two ghouls would free a hippogriff boy from a stasis pod and care for him as their own, but I’ll always be eternally grateful that they did.

They found me in Silverhoof, a quiet mountain town that, before the war, was filled with honest hardworking creatures: ponies, pegasi, griffs… The kind of place that wasn’t in a rush, where locals were kind, and where busy city creatures would travel vast distances by train or sky carriage and camp on the side of a lake for a weekend.

As the war dragged on, the town got quieter and the skies grew darker until one of the Ministry Mares decided it was a good secluded spot to locate some ultra-secret project that would help turn the tide of the war. Tourists were replaced with soldiers, and the citizens of Silverhoof felt like their home no longer belonged to them.

It wasn’t long after that when everything went to hell. Equestria was riddled by a barrage of megaspell bombs, mostly focusing on the eastern front and the capitol region, but several others hit locations all across the land, and Silverhoof was among the locations hit. That was nearly two hundred years ago. Now, what was once a prosperous tourist town is just another settlement in the Wasteland.

I don’t remember the life I had before my parents discovered me, and while I’ve tried to press for details about how and where they found me, they’ve always avoided my questions and kept it a secret. But, I suppose in this post-apocalyptic world where mere survival can be a challenge, mysteries about one’s past seem… trivial, at best.

I shifted the heft of the axe over my back, my wings helping to align the handle as I reached over and grabbed it with my talon, swinging it low and cleanly swiping the legs out from under the feral ghoul. The feral fell, it’s severed legs sent skidding towards a murky pool a few feet away. Its rotted face snapped up at me as I turned and brought the heavy shoe of my rear hoof down on top of it, crushing its skull.

I felt a tug on the barding near my hind leg, as another feral tried and failed to bite through my armor into my hide. Shifting my weight, I gave my best applebucking kick, hitting it square in the chest, and knocking it back a few feet. I whirled around low as I rotated the combat axe and brought the broad blade up through its lower jaw. It sliced straight through and out the top of the feral's head, splitting its already-contorted face in half.

Unfortunately, I didn’t quite get the leverage I wanted in that strike, and the creature crashed into me-- its flayed face attempting to envelop mine. I held the handle of my axe with both claws, pushing back against the poor thing.

I was momentarily distracted by staring through the split face, eyeing the inside of a neatly sliced trachea, nasal cavity, and a partially shattered skull. I would’ve found the dissection interesting if the creature wasn’t trying to kill me.

I heaved against the feral, creating enough space for my wing to extend and slice through the chest of the creature with the blades fixed to the ridge support on my wing-- a device of my own creation that had yet to be fully tested. Fortunately, it gave me the opening I needed to heave the axe down on the top of the feral’s head.

I continued to walk along the makeshift fence that had been assembled from scrap wood and sheet metal, I made notes of spots where the fortifications were wearing thin. Materials were low, and we had to strategically patch the weakest parts to keep out critters and ferals.

I looked back towards a partially collapsed barn that had been strategically fortified and strengthened. A rusty metal chimney jutted out the side of the structure, trails of languid smoke rising from it: A sign that my father had the forge lit.

We had called this place home for quite a while now; longer than any other place we’ve stayed. Though, I had become so accustomed to constantly moving and travelling with my dad, I knew it wouldn’t be long before we moved on.

I stepped into the barn and immediately felt a wave of heat envelop me, and sweat began to form on the back of my neck. My father, Carbon Cylinder, was pulling a peytral from the forge with a large pair of metal tongs. He quenched the piece in a barrel full of water, and closed the front of the forge.

“Father, I’m back,” I said as I undid the clasp on my barding and let it fall to the ground with a thump. My ottoman-gray coat was matted under where my armor had sat, but cleaner than the bits of hide that were exposed. I brushed myself off with a claw.

Carbon jumped and whirled around.

“Dammit boy! Stop sneaking in when I’m in the middle of work!” he exclaimed, snapping up a wet washcloth and dabbing at his face. “One of these days you’re going to make me fumble a piece and that’ll be it for me! I’ll be a ghoul bonfire!”

I smiled to myself as I hung my axe and armor on the hooks by the door, kicking the greaves off and sliding them under an antique table that was littered with medical supplies, oil, and flux. “There’s no way an earth pony could possibly be that clumsy!” I said as I turned towards him. “Besides, if you did that, you might turn into a kickass balefire ghoul!”

Carbon’s eyes narrowed. “There’s nothing ‘kickass’ about a balefire ghoul,” he said darkly, “as soon as they see you, they’ll whip balls of screaming death at you so fast, you’ll be a flailing mass of feathers enveloped in green flame!”

“Green flame?”

“Green flame!” he exclaimed dramatically as he balanced on his rear hooves and waved his forelegs about.

I laughed and sat by the large table in the center of the barn that was covered with smithing tools and half-finished projects that had been strewn about haphazardly. I noticed some new additions that weren’t there this morning.

“Been busy?” I asked.

“Always,” Carbon replied, taking off his heavy leather apron and making his way to the table. “How’d your experiment turn out?” he asked.

I stretched out a wing and looked at the ridge support and blades affixed to the leading edge. “I like the idea,” I said, “but they’re a bit too heavy… not bad for walking, but it makes it hard to fly for any length of time.”

The old ghoul stallion looked at the design with milky eyes as he spoke, “Hmm… I wish we had the materials to make an aluminum or titanium frame. With the right design we might even be able to sell it to the Enclave…”

“You want to sell a weapon to the boogieman?” I taunted.

The Enclave was supposedly the descendants of pegasi who decided to retreat above the clouds when the balefire bombs hit, and are still up there today doing… Celestia knows what. To folks around these parts, they were simply a story to scare young foals. An army of flying death machines ready to swoop down from the clouds and dispense justice to misbehaving young fillies and colts.

Carbon looked at me with his crooked stare, his mouth curling at the edges. “...In a word? Yes.”

“You’ve had the great privilege of living a relatively sheltered life out here,” he said, “but know this: The Grand Pegasus Enclave is very real and very dangerous. But, they are single hoofedly the most advanced group in the Wasteland. If we could establish a trade relationship with them, we wouldn’t have to crawl from place to place scavenging and selling to poor townsfolk and shady mercenaries. We could set ourselves up with good materials and a comfortable home and not have to worry about all this wickedness surrounding us!”

I frowned, considering his words. What could possibly be ‘sheltered’ about constantly fending off ferals, hiding from radstorms, and avoiding raiders? And why does he always seem so obsessed with isolating us and trying to do things by ourselves? Wouldn’t we be better off in a community like Silverhoof, or even Tiny? But, we’ve had these arguments before, and I knew that everything he did, he did to protect us.

I sighed and smiled, “I’m just worried about you. Wouldn’t want some mysterious pegasus death machine taking advantage of you and leaving you full of bullet holes somewhere.”

“Ahh, I’d be fine!" Carbon said with a smile as he wrapped a hoof around me. "They’d never get close enough, cuz my Stormy would rip them to shreds if they tried anything!”

I smiled and gave him the side eye. “You think our melee weapons would hold up against magical energy weapons?”

“Darn tootin’ they would!” he exclaimed, his hoof rising triumphantly. A moment later he slumped slightly. “Well, probably not," he admitted, "but we’d at least take a few of them with us before turning into pink ash.”

The playful grin never left my face as I replied, “Outstanding optimism, father.”

Carbon Cylinder gave me a weird little smile, then trotted to the other side of the table where he started punching holes in a piece of leather barding with a hammer and punch. I took a quick look over the table and started assembling a pile of rivets.

While my dad was more than capable of setting rivets back in the day, and could still get through it just fine, my talons were more adept at grasping and maneuvering the little parts. Besides, I always loved helping my father with his work, and he always appreciated it.

He slid two punched pieces across the table: the start of a crinet, articulated armor that protects a pony’s neck. I set a rivet through the two pieces, placing the rounded edge in a metal form, then hammering the free side with a ball peen hammer until nearly flat. I gave it a test wiggle to make sure it was securely fastened, but had enough play to move freely.

“You know we’re going to have to move on soon, right?” Carbon asked.

“Yeah, I figured,” I said with a sigh, “We’ve had to go farther and farther to find quality materials, and every day it seems like there’s more ferals trying to get in.”

Carbon nodded. “That, and I think Tiny’s at trade saturation. Just about everypony who has any amount of caps to their name in that town is now outfitted with our gear.”

I saw an opportunity to press more than just rivets. “So… why not head back to Silverhoof?”

Carbon’s expression turned sour and he spat at the ground. “There’s nothing left there for me,” he said with a dark tone.

“But it’s a much larger town… There’s bound to be more salvage and a better market--”

“I said no!” he exclaimed as the hammer dropped loudly on the table. He sighed and stared down at his hooves. “Sorry, it’s just… it was Silverhoof raiders that took your mother from us.” He fell to his rump and looked away. “That town’s not safe anymore…”

Raiders were the scourge of the Wasteland: creatures who succumbed to their violent impulses, killing and raping indiscriminately, raiding settlements and forming deranged gangs that could easily drive entire communities away from an area.

“Is anywhere safe?” I asked, but I already knew the answer.

“Not really, but the country is safer than the city. ‘The demon you know’ and whatnot…”

I nodded, and we continued working in silence for some time.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

It was the middle of the night, and I could hear the crackle of the forge quietly smoldering in the background. The wind outside had picked up and was occasionally bashing the branches of a nearby tree into the barn. I was in my cot on my back, staring up at the shadows on the ceiling and I felt… cold.

I tried to pull my blanket up over me, but my talons grasped at air as I heard a sickly wet squishy sound like the mashing of a hoof into a bucket full of worms…

A chill flew down my spine. What was that sound?

I couldn’t take my eyes off the shadows on the ceiling as they seemed to morph and chitter about forming demons, raiders, and feral ghouls…

There was another loud squishy sound and a slurp.

With great effort, I slowly lowered my gaze from the ceiling and looked down at my body-- my completely flayed body.

The skin around my stomach had been viciously ripped open, exposing partially eaten muscle and sinew; my entrails stretched out of the open cavity, all over the cot and onto the floor. At the end of one particularly long, bloody piece of intestine was my father, his eyes crazed and yellowed as he mindlessly munched on my insides.

He looked up into my eyes and I screamed.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I could swear my father was getting used to hearing me scream in the middle of the night. I came to and found him standing several feet away from the cot with a compassionate and sad expression. A bottle of Wild Pegasus and a half-filled glass sat on the table behind him.

“You had the dream again?” he asked.

I nodded slowly, running a talon over my fully intact stomach. One downside to ghoul parents: you have this illogical fear that one day they may turn feral and eat you in your sleep. I knew that turning feral wasn’t something that just happened overnight, and that there would be warning signs long before he lost it, but still-- sometimes you just can’t shake those primal fears.

I sighed, collapsing back onto the cot and stared up at the shadows on the ceiling, cast from the warm glow of the dying forge. In the waking world, the shadows were just shadows, not demons or monsters.

You know, I don’t think I had these nightmares when I was younger… I think it started when I lost my mom. Before then, I thought of death as something that happens to other creatures, or as mercy for ferals, but after… It became more personal. More real.

“Hey dad?” I asked as I continued to stare at the shadows on the ceiling.

“Mm?” Carbon muttered as he took a seat by the table and continued nursing his whiskey.

“How did you and mom meet?”

Carbon Cylinder raised an eyebrow at the question and paused momentarily, his eyes dropping to the side as he thought. “That was a long time ago and in another life,” he said as he took another sip of the whiskey. “We were scientists and researchers... contracted to a military base in the San Palomino desert. ‘Ministry of Awesome Area Fifteen’ it was called, officially, but we just called it Plume Lake.”

I gave Carbon a confused look as I spoke, “There was a lake in the middle of the desert?”

“Sort of," he said with a chuckle, "it was a dry lake bed: an area that once held water but was fully evaporated leaving a salt flat in its place.”

“Huh,” I muttered as I laid back and closed my eyes, trying to imagine such a place as he continued.

“The locals made a big deal of it. Said the base was part of a government conspiracy and that we were hiding aliens in there.”

“Were you?” I asked.

“Of course!” he said jovially. “Big nasty things! Kinda had a pony body with hooves on their rear legs, talons on their forehooves, and wings and a beak like a gryphon!”

I snorted as he described me. “Dad…”

He gave a hearty laugh. “No, I never saw any aliens. I was a mechanical engineer working on parts for some MoA contraption. Never really knew what it was, since we’d only get blueprints for parts of a machine from an engineer and we’d fabricate mockups for them to experiment with.

“Your mother was a researcher. A botanist. She knew everything there is to know about plants: their uses, structures, what kind of medicines you could make from them. Though, I never really understood what good a botanist was in the middle of a desert. Always figured she’d be more at home in the jungles south of the Badlands…” He gave a long sad sigh. “Anyway, we never really worked together, but we shared a break room and I fell for her the first time I saw her… Literally.”

“Literally?” I asked.

Carbon grinned. “Yup! Tripped all over myself straight into her and got covered in hot coffee! You’d never be able to tell it burned like hell as I stared straight up into her eyes from the floor.”

“So, she was into bumbling earth pony idiots?” I teased.

Carbon gave a snort. “Pfft, no. She thought I was a moron! ...And I was, compared to her. Still am, I guess… She always knew exactly what to do, and where to go…” He topped off his glass and took another pull of whiskey.

“You’re concerned about where we’re going next...”

“Among other things, yeah…” He trailed off, his gaze drifting. After several moments, he broke the silence. “You should try and get back to sleep.”

“So should you,” I countered, gesturing towards the whiskey on the table.

“Ah,” he muttered with a dismissive wave of his hoof, “sleep is for the living.”

I laughed and rolled over, pulling the blanket tight over my shoulders. “Hey dad?”

“Yeah, Stormy?”

“I think you’re every bit as smart as mom.”

I laid there for some time as my thoughts wandered to an earth pony stallion and a pegasus mare sharing coffee in a secret military base. My imagination began to take hold and I started to drift off to sleep as I heard the crackling embers of the dying forge... and a sound that I could only describe as a ghoul trying to weep.

* * * * *

The morning was spent finishing several pieces of armor, packing our saddlebags, and storing leftover materials in preparation for the move. We cleaned out and disassembled the forge into several smaller parts, taking the time to separate the essential pieces from those we could easily find at a new location.

In the early afternoon, we set out towards the town. It was a fairly short hike, and it wasn't long until I saw the fortified wall surrounding the encampment. As we approached, we waved at the guard pony who smiled and returned the wave as we passed. She was wearing hardened leather barding of my father’s design.

The settlement of Tiny was, well, tiny. It wasn't much more than a small clearing containing a multitude of tents and several ramshackle structures that surrounded an old wood and iron outpost. Each side of the outpost proudly displayed the “Equestrian Forest Service” logo, battered and faded by time. Underneath the tower there was an enclosed area that had a makeshift sign that read, “Tiny Market & Town Square”.

We set up behind an unused table, and Carbon began immediately brushing off the display pieces and setting them out. I dropped my saddlebags and started to sort through them when he placed a hoof on my shoulder.

“Hey,” he said, “why don’t you go and talk with the locals some? See if you can find any information on other towns or settlements.”

“Really?” I asked. “You don’t need help here?”

He waved a hoof dismissively. “Naw! I’m a natural at this selling thing!” he said in a charming, albeit raspy, voice. “But you, you’ve always enjoyed talking and getting to know our clients, rather than actually selling them something!”

I gave a small laugh and smiled. He was right. I cared much more about learning where some creature was from, what their home town was like, or what juicy gossip was floating around town rather than trying to sell them on a particular piece of equipment. That was my father’s forte.

I nodded and turned to take a walk through the market, though “market” was a very generous term for the place. It was really more of a smattering of stalls and tables under the lower level awning of the outpost. Many of the tables were vacant, but there were a few ponies selling homemade wares as well as parts and scrap. The stalls contained a general store, a potion shop, and a clothing shop.

I took a quick inventory of how many caps I had and trotted into the general store. While the shopkeeper was... nice, she didn’t want to talk about anything other than her merchandise, and eventually asked me if I was going to buy something or bore her to death with small talk and stupid questions.

Okay then! Good start, Storm Mist. I mentally facehooved. Facetaloned? Being a hippogriff is hard.

I then took a quick browse through the clothing shop, but couldn’t actually find any shopkeeper. A well-kept unicorn mare with a dark blue coat and an alpine mane was also browsing through the shop and I struck up a conversation with her. Found out she was from a place called Ophir, a town several miles to the northwest. She was traveling through the area towards Redwing Ridge where she hoped to find her nephew, and apparently stopped here in Tiny hoping to find a new set of shoes. I smiled and pointed her towards my father’s table. I wasn’t sure if any of the shoes that we had would be of the sort she was looking for, but I figured it was worth a shot.

I visited a shop that was filled with potions, herbs, and various medicines, and bought a couple healing potions, since having an abundance of the things was always a good idea. As I passed the caps to the vendor, I asked if he knew anything about the town of Ophir.

“Oh yes! Great travelers from Ophir,” he said. “Have plenty of caps to spare! Always welcome!”

I tucked the potions into a small pouch I kept on me, and gave the shopkeeper a smile as I turned to leave. Browsing the table vendors didn’t reveal any more useful information, though I did find out that the guard pony was about to have a foal, the mayor was found drunk in a pile of garbage this morning, and that apparently some gang called the “Broncos” were going to rise up from the Wasteland and beat a rival gang known as the “Chiefs”.

I was starting to question the legitimacy of the information I was being given.

In any case, I walked away from the experience with some healing potions, a little bit of information, and a smile upon my face. It wasn’t often I got to see and talk to creatures other than my dad, and I relished the opportunity. The ponies in this town were actually pretty friendly!

I returned to my father's table and told him about my conversations. He laughed when I mentioned the mayor, and smiled warmly when I told him about the guard pony, but his ears perked up when I told him about the unicorn mare searching for her nephew.

“Ah! She came over and said she was looking for shoes!” he exclaimed.

“Yeah, I sent her this way. Did you manage to sell her any?”

“Pfft! Of course I did! Told her I would ordinarily love to do some custom work on a fancier set for her, but explained we’ve been low on materials. She understood completely and bought the nicest set we had, even slipped me a tip as I was fitting them for her.”

“That’s great!” I said with a smile, taking a moment to transfer the healing potions from my pouch to the saddlebags. “She mentioned she was from a place called Ophir, a town fairly close to here. The shopkeeper from the medicine shop said folks from there are great customers.”

I could practically see the image of caps cascading from my father’s milky irises, and I knew.

“Looks like we’ve got a destination, boy!”

The rest of the afternoon passed quietly, though we did manage to offload a bit of our gear at a discounted rate. The trot back to the compound was uneventful, aside from the occasional feral that we made quick work of.

My father had purchased a brahmin from one of the locals: a mutated two-headed cow-like creature that was dumb as a bag of rocks, but excellent for transporting a large quantity of stuff. Also one of the few sources of milk still in the Wasteland. It walked quietly behind us, both our saddlebags slung over its back.

We spent the evening packing up the rest of our things as Carbon excitedly fantasized about the prospects in Ophir. My thoughts, however, wandered to the blue unicorn who was travelling by herself to find her nephew in a far-away place. Was she from a rich family? Or the daughter of a crime syndicate? Would she be okay on her own? She wasn’t wearing any armor when I met her, and didn’t have any weapons on her… Come to think of it, how had she survived up to this point?

Suddenly, I was very confused and conflicted. Was unicorn magic really so powerful that they could just walk through the Wasteland without a care in the world? I made a mental note to try not to piss off any unicorns I met, and headed to bed. I drifted off quickly, dreaming of superhero unicorns saving the Wasteland from the Chiefs gang.

* * * * *

We woke up fairly early the next morning and got the bags loaded and tied down to the brahmin, and without a second thought or a glance behind us, left the barn behind. A fine mist rolled lazily over the mountains as we trotted up the ridge to the northwest.

After some time, we entered a canyon surrounded by large rocks to either side. As we approached the crest of a hill, I spotted what looked like a caravan up ahead. An orange earth pony stallion in a tattered duster leaned against a covered wagon that was parked in the middle of the road, smoking a cigarette.

“Someone up ahead…” I said, keeping my eyes focused on the pony in the distance.

“Trouble?” Carbon asked, slowing his step slightly.

“I don’t think so… Looks like he’s pulling a big wagon. Probably resting.”

The pony in the distance turned to face our direction, then whistled and made a circular motion with his hoof. He ditched his cigarette and ran to the front of the wagon. It lurched and veered around in a circle until it was rapidly moving towards us, drawn by two stallions.

Okay… not resting then!

“Shit.” We stopped dead in the road and I took a quick look behind us-- even if we turned around and ran, we’d lose the brahmin and everything we packed.

“Stay calm,” Carbon said, “we might be able to reason with them.”

Within a moment they were upon us in a cloud of dust, the earth pony stallion pulling back on the reins as the wagon rolled to a stop. I noticed that the two very dirty and tired-looking ponies pulling the wagon were physically chained to it, with padlocks securing the links. They were both wearing some kind of strange metal collar.

“Well, well, well, what do we got here?” drawled the stallion as he hopped off the wagon.

My father stepped forward. “I’m Carbon Cylinder, and this is my son, Storm Mist. We’re traders travelling from Tiny.”

The stallion raised an eyebrow. “He’s your son?” he asked incredulously, then started laughing hysterically as he stomped a forehoof on the ground. “Aha! That’s a good one! And just what kind of wares do you trade, Ghouly McLiar Pants?”

My eyes narrowed as Carbon responded, “Armor, mostly… We’d be happy to outfit you with a sample if you’ll let us pass and be on our way.” The brahmin shifted its weight nervously.

The orange stallion smiled, revealing a gold tooth with several black ones to complement it. “Ah, well that’d be swell, just swell…” He took out another cigarette and deftly lit it up, blowing smoke in our direction, and I noticed he had a six shooter revolver strapped to his side. “But, can you outfit my whole crew?”

Suddenly, several ponies emerged from the rocks around us, mostly wielding knives and bats; some had collars on their necks similar to the ponies pulling the wagon. I spotted a red unicorn on top of an outcrop ahead of us with a rifle floating by his side. My feathers stood on end: we were surrounded from every direction.

The low chuckle from the gang leader sent a chill down my spine as I gritted my teeth. This couldn’t happen again. I wouldn't let it! But, what could I do?

“Please,” implored my father, “I can give you all the armor and caps we’ve got if you’ll just let us pass…”

The gruff stallion smirked as he spoke, “Now, I do like caps! And armor. But you see,” he took another pull of his cigarette as he trotted towards us and looked me up and down before continuing, “I reckon’ I could get a LOT more caps by slappin’ a collar on Pretty Birb here and selling him to the highest bidder.”

I spat in his face, and a burly pony to my right immediately grabbed my claw and slammed a hoof down hard on my neck. My foreleg exploded in pain as I suddenly got very acquainted with the ground. I swore as my face hit the dirt. “Fuck!”

Carbon started to react, but was swiftly met by a collared pony pointing a machete at his throat. The blade quivered and shook as the mare wore a crazed, determined expression.

The stallion wiped his face and sneered, “You’ve got a lot of spirit there, Pretty Birb! I bet your illegitimate corpse of a dad is real proud of ya!” He wrapped a hoof around my father. “What a boy you got! What’s a slender little griffin go for these days, anyway? Couple thousand caps you think?”

“Please,” my father said slowly, deliberately, as his eyes met mine. Wait a minute… I barely noticed my dad’s hooves moving in time.

“Please don’t hurt my family.”

The gang leader didn’t notice that Carbon had undone the clasp on his holster until too late. With a quick jerk, the revolver came free, and the old ghoul snatched the weapon up in his teeth. He immediately turned towards the beefy stallion who was pinning me down and let loose two shots.

I rolled, snatching the axe from my back and swinging it towards the white mare wielding the machete. I buried it in her chest, collapsing on top of her, and watched as the look of surprise in her lavender eyes quickly faded into a distant, lifeless stare.

I heard three more shots from the revolver and saw several ponies running along the rocks. One of the shots ricocheted above me. Suddenly, a loud crack echoed through the canyons and Carbon screamed out in pain. The gun flew out of his mouth and landed a few feet away from me, as he stumbled backwards. A bullet from the sniper had come dangerously close to decapitating him. It had ripped through his cheek and buried itself in his shoulder.

I scrambled to grab the revolver, but just as I brought it to bear, the gang leader piped up. “Uh uh uh! You don’t wanna do that.”

I stared past the iron sights at the gang leader, his hooves wrapped around my bleeding father. The gun shook within my grip, and I struggled to steady it; I had been taught long ago how to use a firearm, but neglected to train the skill. Melee fighting had always worked for me… but at this moment I felt useless as the gang leader pressed a tanto blade into my dad’s throat.

Take the shot.

“You’re a pain in the ass, bird,” he said.

Don’t let this happen again. Take the shot.

“But you’ll make a fine addition to my collection.”

TAKE THE FUCKING SHOT.

“Take him.”

A loud bang filled my ears and my world turned to pain. I watched the gun slip from my grip just before my vision went black.

Footnote: Level Up.

New Perk: Tough Hide (Rank 1)
Your hollow bones don’t stop you from being a tough son of a bitch! Damage resistance increased.

Author's Note

Hey!

Thank you so much for checking out my story and giving Invicta a chance!

Huge thanks to Artimae and Fiaura for their editing, Cadet for giving life to my characters with her amazing artwork, and Fiaura, Kkat, and Somber for inspiring me with their works~

It's gonna be a wild ride!

~ Forest Rain

Chapter 9: The Rose Revelation

Chapter 9: The Rose Revelation

“You want my opinion? We’re all a little weird. And life is a little weird. And when we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours, we join up with them and fall into mutually satisfying weirdness…”
- Robert Fulghum

The journey out of Emerald City was uneventful. Neither Rose nor I put any effort into trying to fit in with the Society and we strolled out of Castle Sage in our armor. While we received a couple curious glances, most of the locals opted to just pretend we didn’t exist whatsoever and even the porters by the entrance looked straight through us.

As we began the long walk down the silver ribbon tunnel, Rose spoke quietly as she idly stared at the ground. “So that’s what it was like for you…”

I couldn’t help but give a sardonic chuckle in response. “Yeah, you’ve seen both sides now.”

We continued to walk in silence as the noise of the Grand Bazaar gave way to only the quiet echo of our hoofsteps. Eventually, Rose looked up at me with a grin, “I think I like it better this way. No attention, no small talk… less pressure, really. How about this: next fancy town we go to, you can dress up and I’ll be your silent companion.”

“Deal,” I said as I tried my best to give a placating smile. Rose nodded and turned her attention back to the dusty floor of the tunnel, but I could see the sadness that was in her eyes and I found myself similarly studying the floor as I wistfully thought about the happy mare that was brimming with excitement just a day or so ago... Was there anything I could do that might help? I felt the weight of my bear claw necklace shift as we walked and I got an idea.

“Hold up,” I called.

Rose stopped and turned to look at me. “What is it? Hey! What are you-”

I dug through her saddle bag for a moment, then pulled out the small jewelry box. I flipped it open. “Here.”

“Storm Mist, I don’t–” Rose began before I silenced her with a talon.

“Rose... Don’t let your experience with these Society ponies dictate how you feel about yourself. Don’t let them take your imagination, or your joy... And don’t believe for a second that wanting to be beautiful or to wear something that means a lot to you is a crime.”

Rose watched me with a shocked expression as I held the necklace up in front of her. “You and I both know that this necklace has meaning for you. It’s not a relic that an old nag wants, and it’s not a status symbol for the Society. It’s yours, and only yours. And if it brings you joy or reminds you of what’s important, then you should wear it.”

Rose looked at me as her mouth hung open for a second. She looked like she was about to say something, but after a moment she gave me a warm smile and lowered her head. For the second time, I snapped the piece of jewelry around her neck and she beamed at me.

I slipped the box back into her saddle bag and we continued down the tunnel. As we walked along the dusty chiseled rock, it somehow seemed as if things were just a bit brighter; the walls slightly less oppressive. Rose bumped my flank with hers and giggled slightly as she spoke. “I think I may have to adjust my definition of ‘hero’.”

“Oh?” I asked. “To what?”

“Smart-ass hippogriff who isn’t as dumb as he looks.”

“Hey!” I replied with indignation, but Rose just trotted quickly ahead while giggling.

Despite the backhanded compliment, I smiled. It was good to have happy Rose back.

* * * * *

The cold dusty tunnel seemed like it went on for forever. Every fifteen minutes or so we’d encounter another offshoot that would branch off and wind away deeper into the mountain. While we were following the silver ribbons, it felt to us as if we were constantly walking further into the lazy gaping maw of the earth– slowly being digested by an ancient and gigantic beast made of thousands of tons of rock.

We had both been quiet for some time. The repetitive fall of our hoofsteps and the sounds of our equipment jangling around echoed off the walls, creating a pool of sound that covered us like a blanket; a monotonous drone that made us sleepy even as we walked.

Some piece of equipment must have brushed against something else making a noise that sounded like a whisper. Then, a moment later– the same whisper-like noise. I stopped. “Did you… hear a whisper?”

Rose stopped and gave me a sideways glance. “No…” She fiddled with a few knobs on her PipBuck. “And my E.F.S. isn’t showing anypony nearby. You sure you’re not going crazy?”

I paused for a moment. It had been a long, boring walk through the tunnels, it wouldn’t be that surprising to have misheard something as a whisper, right?

Then I heard it again. A whisper from behind, from the voice of a small foal. It spoke, but not in a language I could understand. I was definitely going crazy. But if I learned anything from Rose– crazy works sometimes. “Follow me.”

Rose skeptically followed as I turned and backtracked to an intersection we had just crossed with an unmarked tunnel. I closed my eyes and tried to follow my instincts. Where are you? Where are you calling from?

Left.

I turned left and made my way down the hall to another intersection where the hallway split into two branches. Again, I concentrated.

Right.

Following the tunnel to the right we passed one intersection and came to another, where I felt the urge to go left again.

At this point, Rose had accepted that I lost it. “It’s a good thing my PipBuck automaps our surroundings, otherwise we’d be screwed finding our way back out of here. You sure you haven’t flown over the cuckoo’s nest?”

Flown over a what? “I don’t know what you mean,” I replied. “What’s a cuckoo?”

Rose shook her head and laughed. “It’s a bird. But specifically, it’s referring to a pre-war radioplay where a colt lands himself in an–”

Stop.

“Hold up,” I interrupted, trying to follow the crazy voices in my head. I studied the wall next to where we had stopped. It was made of chiseled stones, stacked atop of one another and reinforced by wooden posts. The surface was smooth, but there was an almost imperceptible line running vertically up and down the wall not far from where we were– almost like a seam. I walked over and placed a claw against the wall and it pushed in easily, like it was hung on hinges.

“–insane asylum,” Rose finished, staring at me and the secret doorway with a suspicious look. “How’d you know that was there?’ she asked.

“Just a feeling…”

Truthfully I didn’t really know how exactly I got here, but I knew that if I heard the whisper, I could follow it– one way or another.

The secret doorway opened into a small room, not much bigger than a closet. Inside there were some long burnt-out candles, melted down to the wick, along with some caps from Sunrise Sarsaparilla bottles placed on a steel tray. The tray sat beside a rotted-out single mattress that still hosted the skeletal remains of its former occupant– a unicorn foal, that seemed to be clutching something in its hooves.

Rose shivered. “Well this isn’t creepy at all,” she muttered sardonically.

Normally, I’d be inclined to agree, but it felt like I was being called here, so it wasn’t entirely weird. I moved closer to the bed to figure out what the skeletal remains of the foal was holding. It was another statuette! My heart jumped and the little cyan colt in my saddle bag seemed to vibrate with energy, as if he were calling out to a friend. This statuette was also in mint condition and portrayed a frail lavender unicorn mare with a large horn and a soft flowing seafoam-green mane.

“You wanted me to find this?” I asked, partly to the skeletal foal and partly to the weird whispers in my head. I heard a response from neither, however.

“Find what?” Rose asked, curious. I motioned towards the foal and Rose inched closer in the cramped room to inspect what I had found. Her eyes lit up. “Another statuette!” she exclaimed. “It’s Mistmane, one of the Pillars!”

So they are a set! I felt the urge to reach out and grab the little lavender mare, but I didn’t want to disturb the dead foal– as silly as that sounds. I felt like if it called me here, I needed to treat it with respect.

“Rose, could you use your telekinesis?”

She nodded and her horn lit up with a crimson glow as she gently levitated the statuette up out of the grasp of the long-dead foal and over to my outstretched claw. As it landed within my talons, I read the inscription on the little black base– “Stay Beautiful”. Oddly enough, as Rose’s magic released, the mare upon the pedestal was no longer the old, wrinkly mare that struggled to hold her own head up, but was instead a much younger, beautiful version of herself with a flawless lilac coat and an ethereal turquoise mane that flowed like an aurora in the night sky. Her entire body seemed to glow with a soft white light that made the mare look all the more ethereal and lovely.

“Whoa,” I stammered, shocked by the transformation. “You see this?”

“Yeah,” Rose replied, cocking her head to examine the statuette more closely. “These statuettes must have magical properties… makes sense given that the Pillars were ancient protectors of Equestria. You remember Mistmane’s story, right?’

I nodded. “When her kingdom was nearly ruined by an empress who wanted to steal all things of beauty for herself, Mistmane fought back by bringing beauty back to the kingdom and all its inhabitants by sacrificing her own.”

Rose smiled. “And she never stopped. She fought her entire life to make things better for others, despite how it made her look on the outside. Her true beauty, the kind that truly makes a person who they are, shone from the inside.” She paused for a moment, considering something. “Maybe that’s why we see her like this now, in your claws. Maybe you have the same kind of spirit?”

I laughed at the thought. I was nothing like a Pillar of Equestria. I wasn’t a hero. “That’s a kind thought, but I don’t think I’m anything like Mistmane. I haven’t sacrificed parts of myself for anyone.”

Rose narrowed her eyes and looked at me with a mischievous look. “Not yet, but I wouldn’t put it past you.” She nudged me with a hoof. “You have a good heart, and I know you’ll always do what’s right.”

The statuette seemed to glow with Rose’s sentiment and I quietly chided it for being on her side. The last thing I needed was another smart-ass unicorn telling me I was a hero. I packed the little mare into my saddlebag next to the cyan stallion; it felt right, keeping them together.

“I’ll always try,” I said, honestly. “But I’m just a hippogriff. We’re all just trying to survive. There’s no heroes anymore.”

Rose allowed herself to touch the Heart of Ophir momentarily, then gave me a sly look as she turned to leave the cramped space. “We can agree to disagree.” She winked and disappeared back into the hallway.

I smiled and looked at the long-dead foal one last time. “Thank you,” I whispered, before stepping out and shutting the door.

* * * * *

It wasn’t long after that we finally reached the end of the silver tunnel. Interestingly, the exits to the outside were also sealed by the key, so even if someone had managed to sneak in, they wouldn’t be able to leave. Thankfully, the key that Sterling had given us worked for this exit as well.

As the mechanical rock door opened, the light of the outdoors flooded our vision and momentarily blinded us. Through squinted eyes, I could see Rose bolt outside and hug the dirt.

“Sweet sunny solar-flaring mareheat!” she swore, rolling around in the dirt like a madpony. “It’s good to not be in that fucking mountain anymore!”

I smirked as I squinted against the bright outdoors. I always knew Rose would lose it some day. I just didn’t realize that it would be today.

She lay on the ground all splayed out, as if she was trying to make as much surface contact as possible. “It smells so good! It smells like earth and the outdoors!”

“Very descriptive,” I said dryly, my eyes finally adjusting to the change in light level. As I blinked and looked out at our surroundings, what I saw filled my heart with excitement and hope.

We were on a large berm near the base of Roan Peak that wound its way down into a lush valley full of plants and trees that looked every bit as green and lush as pre-war photos, despite the cloud-covered sky. The mountains in the distance were a hazy blue color with white-capped peaks that disappeared into the clouds and perfectly complemented the green of the valley. Near the base of a distant mountain, an incredibly tall black tower reached up into the clouds like an oppressive monolith, and nestled into the heart of the valley below was a large town… no, a city: Silverhoof.

“Rose…” I said, almost breathless as I wanted to share this incredible view. After a moment, I looked over and found the gray unicorn still splayed out on the ground. “Rose, stop hugging your dirt and look!”

She got up and trotted next to me, looking out at the surrounding vista. “Whoa… That’s cool.” She paused for a moment, taking it in, then spoke again, “There’s so much more dirt to hug!”

I fought a sudden urge to push her down the side of the mountain, but also couldn’t help but smile.

We heard the distant crack of gunfire, breaking us from our reverie. First one shot, then several in rapid succession. It sounded like small caliber arms, but also too far away to be an immediate threat. At least we knew that there were other armed creatures nearby, and if we stayed aware we could get the drop on them or avoid them altogether.

Rose sighed. “Is it weird that I find the sound of gunfire oddly comforting?”

I gave her a flat look. “Yes, but you excel at weird.”

She smiled. “Good!”

As we descended the mountain from the secret Society entrance, we began to be surrounded by more lush vegetation: trees with healthy green needles, lush bushes, even wildflowers and living sagebrush! It was fascinating to see so many living plants in one place and I knew my mom would’ve loved it, though I once again wished that I had paid more attention to her lessons on plants as a kid.

Rose’s PipBuck made a small clicking noise and she stopped momentarily to poke at the device on her foreleg, but kept walking. I didn’t think much of it until a bit further down the mountain I heard the noise again. “What is that?” I asked.

“Geiger counter,” she replied, “it makes noise when we’re close to magical radiation or taint.”

“Oh, it’s the same noise from Autumn Vigil’s cabin!” I exclaimed and Rose looked at me confusedly. “Whenever the lightning would flash during the radstorm, your PipBuck would click a bit.”

She nodded. “Yeah, the lightning sends tendrils of magical radiation everywhere and a bit of it can reach you, even through a window or shelter. Don’t know why it’s clicking now, though. May be broken? Or there may be a very small radiation source nearby.”

As we continued down the mountain into more and more of the green grass and vegetation, the device began to click more– never more than a single chirp at a time, but it was happening more frequently. We began to realize that this area may not be so green because it was untouched land, safe from the horrors of the Great War, but because it may be contaminated by magical radiation.

“Should we be worried?” I asked.

Rose shook her head. “Radiation levels are still low, but if it gets worse I have a few RadSafe pills.”

“RadSafe?”

Rose gave me a look that suggested either I had something on my face or I was an idiot. I presumed it was the latter. After a moment she smiled to herself and spoke, “Yeah… it prevents your body from accumulating magical radiation. I’m surprised you never used it, but I guess with ghoul parents you wouldn’t see it as much?”

I nodded. “I was always taught to stay away from taint and out of radstorms, but my dad loved working out in the rain during one. It’s like he got stronger and more energetic whenever one came around.”

Rose smiled. “I wish I could’ve met him.”

“Me too.”

Suddenly, gunfire rang out again, but much closer this time. Both Rose and I unsheathed our weapons and moved closer to the tree line as we continued our way cautiously down the mountain.

“Up ahead,” Rose said. “Off to the right and down the mountain a bit.”

I narrowed my eyes and looked past the berm down to where the ridge circled in. I could see a group of ponies with spiky cobbled-together armor and extremist mane and tail styles. Many of them were missing parts of their armor, or wore very badly damaged pauldrons, saddles or croupieres. They mostly carried pipe rifles that had been heavily modified or perhaps assembled from several different things. They were passing some kind of drug around while laughing and shooting at something in the woods.

“Raiders,” I observed. “Seem to be in pretty rough condition too.”

Rose took the lead as we worked our way down the mountain, occasionally pausing as she seemed to notice something within her field of view. I guessed that she was tracking something on her E.F.S. with her crazy vision thing. Eventually we wound our way to a little ridge overlooking where the raiders had gathered and I peered out over a rock to see what was in the woods… What I saw made my stomach churn.

In addition to the three raiders who were on the edge of the forest wielding pipe rifles, there was a group within the woods in various stages of undress. Some were pleasuring themselves, moaning and huffing as they clopped and rubbed. A few raiders had mounted others, riding and slamming with animal instinct, one raider stallion even holding a knife to the neck of the raider mare he was plowing, who just seemed to get off on having a knife to her neck.

They all surrounded the sickliest sight of all though, and most of them couldn’t look away: two ghouls in a pretty decrepit state were going at it. REALLYgoing at it, as if they were drugged up and sex-crazed. One of them had lost a hindleg, but it didn’t stop him from plowing the shit out of every hole and orifice the other had, whether natural or inflicted.

Without warning, one of the raiders aimed his pipe rifle at the two ghouls and took a shot. The bottom ghoul’s lower jaw suddenly exploded into pieces, parts of it impacting into the mare who had a knife to her throat. She moaned, and a clopping stallion next to them suddenly shook, grunted and released a massive load on both the mare and the stallion plowing her.

“Ugh!” the stallion shouted in disgust. “What the fuck!?” And without hesitation he plunged the knife into the clopping pony’s chest. As he removed the knife, blood spurted from the severed artery and many of the raiders cheered and moaned in response.

“What the fuck…” Rose breathed, and I silently agreed. “I count eight total. Do you wanna take them?”

Raiders were already a blight upon the Wasteland, but the fact that we had managed to stumble upon some kind of sick raider sex games and that they were drugging and abusing ghouls just made me feel sick. “Yeah,” I replied, “but you’ve got the five in the forest. I don’t wanna get anywhere near that shit.”

Rose smirked. “You don’t wanna participate in the sex-lympics?”

My face contorted at the suggestion. “You’re disgusting. Let’s go.”

Rose levitated her pistol as she spoke, “Betcha I can take all five before you get those three!”

I was already on my feet and taking flight. “You’re on!” I called back, even though I knew Rose was far faster.

As I silently glided my way down towards the three raiders at the tree line, I could see Rose jump over the rock and slide down the hill. The ponies in the forest were oblivious, but the three that I winged my way towards were distracted by the sudden appearance of the mare. I took advantage of the distraction and angled my glide so that I could cleanly behead two of the three of them. Maybe I could beat Rose! But at the last moment the one on my right looked down to adjust his rifle, and while I beheaded the raider on my left, I had simply given the one on my right a cool new haircut.

I heard the first shot from Rose’s pistol as the freshly-shaved pony yelled “Whhat the fwuck!?” and whipped around. I knocked his pipe rifle sideways, ringing his teeth and skull in the process. I took the opportunity to swing at the other raider as I heard the second shot. Damn, she was fast!

The raider that I swung at grunted as he dodged the swing, then brought his rifle up towards my head. I deflected it with my axe, but a shot rang out, grazing my left side. I spun to the left while extending my right wing, slicing into the stallion’s legs. He cried out, jumping back and dropping the pipe rifle. Rose’s third shot rang out.

I turned my attention back to the raider with the new hairdo and knocked his rifle to the side with my axe just as he pulled the trigger. He watched the bullet rip through the shoulder of his disarmed companion, causing him to stagger and flail, just before he saw my axe slice through his neck. I had grown up fending off feral ghouls. By comparison, these drugged-up raiders were slow as sin.

I heard the fourth shot from Rose’s gun as I charged the remaining raider. He turned to run, but I was able to catch one of his rear legs with my axe, severing his achilles tendon. He fell to the ground and tried to scramble through the dirt, but I tackled him and held his head up.

“Ghoul-abusing raider scum,” I muttered as Rose’s fifth shot rang out. “Damn it.” I slit the raider’s throat with my axe, cleaned the blade and returned it to my back.

Rose trotted over with a shit-eating grin. “Shut up,” I said, trying to cut her off.

She looked me up and down with a smirk, then poked me with a foreleg. “You’re getting faster. Let’s call it a tie.”

I couldn’t help but immediately wonder if something was wrong with her. Rose was a lot of things: funny, talented, deadly… but humble wasn’t exactly a word that came to mind. “You didn’t take any of their drugs, did you?”

She immediately scoffed. “No, stupid, I was trying to be nice for once.”

“It’s weird,” I retorted.

She smiled. “I excel at weird, remember?”

I grinned in response, then thought about the ghouls. “The ghouls– did you..?”

She shook her head and pointed. “See for yourself.”

In the woods, the two sex-crazed ghouls were still going at it: two highly doped-up corpses plugging each other in the woods. Love is love, right? Or… whatever that was. We decided to just let them be. Besides, they were surrounded by all sorts of fluids and neither of us really wanted to get too close.

* * * * *

By nightfall we had made it down into the valley. The steep-pitched roofs of Silverhoof could no longer be seen from this altitude, but I knew we were close. I vibrated with excitement at the thought of returning to my childhood home, but I also didn’t really know what to expect. The only memory I really had was returning to Silverhoof as a foal with my parents… remembering my excitement then, my dad entering the restaurant with the funny name, then being chased by raiders in a wagon, or… not raiders? Whoever they were. My mom dying…

I shook my head and sighed. My excitement over returning to Silverhoof and trying to find answers kept being tempered by bad memories. Rose seemed to notice, as she looked at me from across the fire with concern in her eyes.

“Thinking about your mom?” she asked quietly.

I nodded and grabbed the box of Sugar Apple Bombs we had found at the raider camp earlier, tossing a helping of the sickly-sweet cereal in my mouth. My eye twitched as I munched on the stale kernels.

“Who likes this crap?” I asked, trying my best to not gag.

Rose grinned, levitating the box over to herself. “I do!”

She emptied the last of the box into her mouth and chewed happily as she tossed the bag into the fire and neatly folded the cereal box before sliding it into her pack. I rolled my eyes. There was no end to Rose’s weirdness.

We had managed to walk away from our assault on the raider camp earlier with a bunch of drugs, including painkillers, some Med-X, Mint-als, Rage, and Buck. Honestly, I didn’t even know what some of these things did, but Rose insisted they could be useful. We also found more food and water, including the stale pre-war Sugar Apple Bombs cereal, which I was now convinced was either formulated exclusively for weird unicorn mares or was some kind of horrible joke that pre-war parents played on little fillies and colts during breakfast. The raiders also had a few good pieces of meat, but when we discovered an entire salted pony flank with cutiemark still visible, we decided it wasn’t worth the risk.

“Ugh, I’d take radroach meat over that,” I groaned, taking a sip of water to rid myself of the taste of that horrible crunchy, sugary mess. Rose just laughed. As nice as it was to have the pure water and exquisite food of the Emerald City, I think we both felt more at home here– sitting together by a campfire in the Wasteland.

“Hey Storm,” Rose asked, pensively staring into the fire. “Do you think we should’ve done something?”

“I thought we did,” I replied. “The Wasteland has a few less raiders now.”

She shook her head. “Not about that. Back in Emerald City. Should we have tried to help the serfs?”

Emerald City had hundreds of serfs that signed their life away to bring a semblance of pre-war opulence to the Society ponies for nothing in return aside from a safe place to live out their days. But, like Abby said, those serfs agreed to it… if we had tried to do something to disrupt that, who knows how violently the Society would react, not just against us, but the serfs as well.

I shook my head. “I don’t know… I’m not even sure if there was anything the two of us could even do. We’d probably be dead or rotting in a cell right now if we had tried anything.”

“I know,” Rose said, idly poking at the fire. “But I still feel like something needs to be done… When my sister and I escaped 131, we sparked a revolution. I mean, if Abacus can be believed. Our actions could’ve helped free hundreds of stable dwellers. But how many of them couldn’t handle the Wasteland and decided to just throw their lives away by working for the Society?”

I thought about Abby’s words: “Not everyone in the Wasteland is capable of defending themselves or protecting those they care about. For some, it’s the best thing they can do to ensure their survival.”

“I mean, it’s not the choice that either you or I would make, but it is their choice, right?” I asked.

“Not much of a choice,” Rose muttered as she continued to idly poke at the fire.

She always seemed to glow by the fireside. Something about the fire made her charcoal coat shimmer with warm light while her dark raven mane fell across her crimson eyes, framing them like an intense portrait of determination. She looked up at me with that intensity, and a flicker of panic shot through me– not because I was afraid of what she could do, but because I was afraid she caught me staring.

“Is it really a choice if there’s no other option? That’s like signing a contract with a gun to your head. Nobody showed them how to survive out here, and you can bet that in serf housing, nobody’s going to.”

“I guess so,” I said, glancing down to the fire. It was starting to burn low. “So do you have a plan?”

Rose tilted her head and looked at me with a funny look, then smiled. “No, but I’m thinking about it. Besides, I wouldn’t just abandon you. You’d be a goner without me!”

I gave her a level look. “I’ve saved your flank just as much as you’ve saved mine!”

In response, she struck a seductive pose and spoke in a low breathy tone, “I didn’t realize you were such an expert on my flank.”

I blushed before I could even stammer a response, so I looked away. Somehow, even now, I kept falling for Rose’s games. But even so, a large part of me still enjoyed playing them. She was my best friend and I knew that no matter what the Wasteland tried to throw at us that we’d always be there to help one another… Rose giggled and stoked the coals of the fire.

“Hey Rose?”

“Mm?”

“When you finish your plan, I’ll help you.”

Her playful grin melted into some other expression as I spoke, one I couldn’t quite place, but it seemed almost… softer.

“You’ve been by my side through everything… I just want you to know: when you figure out how to make the Wasteland better, I’ll be there to help.”

She looked at me with that soft look for a moment, then asked, “Is that… Is that all?”

I thought about my words. Did I not say something right? I wanted to make sure she knew that I’d always be by her side…

“I… think so?” I responded. “I mean, you’re my best friend, and I wanted you to know I’ll always support the things that are important to you–”

Rose rolled her eyes and sighed before curling up on her bedroll. “Good night, Storm Mist.”

Did I say something wrong?

“And thank you,” she added.

Now I was just confused. I shook my head and decided to let the last dregs of the fire burn out as I lay down as well and kept watch as Rose drifted off to sleep. The night was quiet: no gunshots, no bears, just the occasional tendril of lightning arcing across the clouds in the distant sky.

* * * * *

It was maybe an hour or so into our journey the next morning that we came upon a large open field. The trees and plants gave way to an area that consisted mostly of vibrant green grass and the occasional shrub. Everything seemed extra still here, the peaceful quiet accented by the mountain wind blowing off the peak and down into the valley.

Rose’s PipBuck began to click more and more as we got closer, to the extent that she broke out the RadSafe tablets for the both of us.

“Isn’t it weird?” I asked, looking out at the lush, vibrant field.

Rose cocked her head. “What?”

“There’s nothing here… No megaspell damage, no pools of taint… nothing that would really indicate this area is irradiated, aside from the super green grass.”

Rose shrugged in response. “Maybe whatever is causing it is underground? This area was a hotspot for government activity. Could’ve been a taint disposal site…” Suddenly she grinned mischievously.

“What?” I asked. “I know that look…”

“Ooor,” she crooned, “there’s a secret Ministry bunker hidden underneath this field, full of crazy mutated cyberpony soldiers that’ll pop out of the ground any moment and try to kill us!”

I looked at Rose, then looked at the field, then back at Rose. “I doubt it.”

She pouted. “You’re no fun.”

“I know,” I said, looking back at the field to check for threats before we crossed. As I scanned the grassland, my eyes caught sight of what looked to be a large bunny. It hopped around like a normal bunny, munching on the irradiated grass, but was easily twice as big as you’d suspect… and had one extra eye.

“Oh…”

Before I could relay what I saw, a massive red-headed vulture screamed while swooping down and sinking its talons into the monster bunny, who screamed and struggled as well. The bird thrashed its wings while the bunny screamed and twisted, pulling the bird momentarily to the ground.

Rose noticed that something caught my eye. “What is it?”

“Bird versus bunny, over there.” I pointed and Rose squinted her eyes.

“I can barely see…”

Suddenly there was movement from a tall patch of grass not far from the scene. A massive sheep-like creature rose, seemingly from out of nowhere. Its patchy, matted fur glowed with the same green hue of the surrounding grassland. Twisted, gnarled horns sprouted from the top of its head and circled around, piercing its own skull and poking out through the front of its decayed face where its eyes should’ve been. The two horns were sharpened into deadly spears of bone that jutted forward aggressively.

The sheep-like monster screamed an other-worldly sound that sent chills down my spine as it made a beeline for the bunny and bird that were locked in combat. Within seconds it easily crossed a hundred yards of distance and rammed the two creatures. The mutated bunny was tossed into the air as the vulture was skewered on one of the massive ram’s horns. It flapped and flailed wildly as the bunny landed a few feet away and ran off as fast as its legs could take it. The mutated creature rammed its head into the ground, crushing the bird between the dirt and its skull, then pulled it off with help from a cloven hoof before gnashing at it with rotted teeth.

I looked at Rose and whispered, “Could you see that?”

She pulled her gaze from the field and looked back at me. “Why does nature always have to be scary? Why can’t we ever just have a pretty field?”

I gave her an incredulous look. “You’re excited about mutated cyberpony soldiers but afraid of a mutated ram?”

Rose scoffed. “Is that even a question!?” She levitated the sniper rifle from her pack and worked the action.

“Whoa,” I said, holding out a claw. “Is that a good idea?”

She looked through the scope and squinted. “It’s distracted right now. Maybe a good shot will take it down.”

I looked back out at the glowing creature. “Or you might just piss it off.”

“One way to find out!” she said, and my stomach sank. I knew how radiation could enhance the strength of a ghoul. Who knew what it could do to something this size.

She aimed carefully, then telekinetically pulled the trigger. The rifle roared and I could see the bullet impact dead-center on the skull of the ram. Without hesitation, it raised its head and faced directly towards us. It may not have eyes, but it definitely heard and felt the shot.

Rose swallowed. “Oh shit…”

It bolted directly at us, covering a massive amount of ground in just half a second. Rose worked the mechanisms of the gun at incredible speed, firing off three shots in the span of a breath. All three shots looked like they hit the ram, but didn’t slow it down in the least.

“Come on!” I said as I pushed Rose sideways. We ran off to the side and into the treeline near the edge of the field as the giant creature ran straight through where we were just standing, gnashing its teeth and thrashing its head.

The thing was even more massive close-up. Now that it was only a few dozen yards from us, I could tell that it stood easily twice as tall as Rose. The horns alone were probably the length of my forelegs, and that was just the part that stuck out straight from the front of its skull.

The beast thrashed its head a couple more times, then slowly circled the area, stopping occasionally to cock its head and wait. From what I could tell, it had no eyesight whatsoever, and relied mostly on sound.

Rose's PipBuck clicked and I froze as the creature angled its head slightly. I looked at Rose and quietly pointed to my ears. She nodded. With her telekinesis, she silently grasped a rock that was nearby, levitating it over the ram, before tossing it into some bushes in the opposite direction. At the sound, the ram snapped up and charged towards the bushes, ripping them from the ground like overgrown weeds. Rose played a couple more rounds of “go get the rock” with the ram before we felt that it was far enough away for us to hazard moving.

We briskly made our way across the irradiated field as Rose’s PipBuck clicked up a storm; every blip and click setting our teeth on edge and making us glance behind to make sure the creature wasn’t following us. About halfway across, I lost sight of the beast and we booked it the rest of the way with weapons ready– not that they would really do us much good against that thing.

We kept up a steady pace afterwards, even as Rose’s PipBuck stopped clicking and the vibrant green grassland disappeared behind us. It wasn’t long before we found a dusty road that wound down to familiar white buildings with black lattice and my heart skipped a beat. We were finally here!

As we entered the outskirts of the city, patches of broken cobblestone peeked through the dusty road and shallow rock fences popped up occasionally, worn down by years of rain. The foundations of the old buildings cracked and crumbled and a lot of the wood and lattice work was rotting. More than a few buildings had their roofs caved in.

As we continued into the city, we encountered a few radrats and radroaches that were easily dispatched, but we didn’t spot any other Wastelanders. The road began to seem familiar and my intuition took over as I wove us through the streets. It wasn’t long until we found what I was looking for…

A sign rose up out of a pile of garbage and overgrown brush, its lights no longer functioning, but the letters still clear as day: Ass Diner. At that moment, nothing was ever more beautiful.

Rose began to giggle. “Seriously? You dragged me all this way to take me to an ‘Ass Diner’? I knew you were a flank expert, but this just takes it to a whole ‘nother level!”

I snorted. “Come on.”

Rose skipped behind me as we entered the silver bullet of a building. The inside was trashed: chairs with ripped and faded fabric and old tables with peeling metal trim were strewn about, a bunch of them piled in a corner. The old checkerboard floor had fallen apart long ago, leaving random vinyl tiles everywhere and revealing the floorboards underneath. In the middle of the restaurant was a long bar filled with trash, some checkered porcelain tiles still visible on the underside of the lip, matching the old floor. At the far side of the bar was a cash register, still half-bolted to the bartop with its drawer hanging open. It looked like someone had bashed it with one of the vinyl-covered benches from the booths at the other side of the restaurant and discarded the bench behind the till.

“Help me with this?” I asked, grabbing the bench that was lodged behind the bar.

Rose telekinetically lifted up the other end, and we shoved it out of the way. I knew my parents had a stash under the floorboards behind the register, but I didn’t know exactly where. I moved some of the trash aside on the floor and examined the floorboards, tapping on them with my talon until I found one that sounded different. I was able to slide that board in towards the bar, then up and out. Rose watched with interest as I reached in and pulled out an old green metal ammo can that had the letters “M.W.T.” painted on the side of it.

I couldn’t help but hesitate. I had wondered what was in this box for years. What was it that two ghouls had hidden to make their lives easier if they were to ever return to this city? I remembered the conversation with my mother in the wagon:

“I hate secrets... When do I get to find out?”

“When you’re much, much older.”

I was only maybe 10 yards from where I am now when that conversation happened, but it was so many years ago… Well mom, I’m much, much older now– so screw it! I opened the ammo can.

The first thing I saw took my breath away and brought tears to my eyes. There were old, faded pictures of my parents– not as ghouls, but as the ponies they once were! I saw my dad, Carbon Cylinder, with a soft yellow coat and beautiful green eyes, smiling proudly as he stood next to some big mechanical contraption. And I saw my mom, Evergreen Sky, her mint green coat and hazel eyes shining in the light of the sun as she gave the camera a slightly bemused “put that thing down right now” look. At the time they were taken, they were just quick snapshots of two ponies in an ancient world, but to me, now? They were everything.

“You have his eyes,” Rose said quietly, sharing the moment with me. “He was handsome too. No wonder your mom fell for him.”

I laughed, thinking back to the story my dad told me about when they met. “Actually, he fell for my mom. Literally. Tripped all over himself and fell to the floor covered in hot coffee.”

Rose laughed and placed her hoof on my talon. “And I fell for you.”

It felt like my heart stopped as I was torn from the past and thrown into the present. “You what? I mean, you did?”

Rose nodded at me slowly, cautiously.

“I just… thought you were always like that. Like… you make a lot of jokes and sometimes you comment on my butt, but I always thought you’d rather punch me than–”

“Kiss you?”

“–flirt with me…” I paused for a moment, wondering how I had misinterpreted Rose’s signals for so long. “I’m so dumb, aren’t I?”

Rose smiled and nodded. “Sterling told me that you didn’t know and that I needed to tell you directly. So… this is as direct as I can get.” She wrapped her front hooves around my neck and kissed me. Electricity arced throughout my body, my heart pounded, and my mind went blank. I closed my eyes and kissed her back.

Sparks flew as the plywood boarding on the front windows exploded and energy weapon fire filled the room.

Footnote:

Quest Perk Added: Kiss The Mare
You have reached a new level in your relationship with your companion! New actions have been unlocked!

Statuette Discovered: Mistmane
Permanently gain +1 CHA.

Author's Note

In the words of Arti, "Stormy must be one hell of a kisser!" 🤣

I've come back from the dead! I'm unendingly sorry to those who got very invested in this story only for it to be abandoned for so long. I burnt myself out hardcore and the longer I was away from it the harder it was to get back to it. But the characters never left me and I finally have been able to get back to writing Stormy's story in a healthy way. And so I'm here, writing it for him, and for Rose, and for Sterling. And for those we have yet to meet.

I hope this chapter was enjoyable. I always knew that their first kiss was going to be explosive, and I'm so happy that it's finally in print! Chapter 10 is half-done as I write this, and I promise it will be out in a week or two. It's gonna be a trip.

Thank you to Artimae and Rebel Beats for their proofreading!