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